by Aaron, Blair
But behind closed doors, Jaylon was not nearly as cooperative.
“Okay,” he said. “If you're not going to help the cops do the best job they could do, then we're going to do it ourselves. Do you understand that I did not really know who my brother is? I'm 10 years older than he is. I moved away when I was 18, when he was eight. I know virtually nothing about him—not who his friends were, not the kind of music he liked, nothing. If we're going to find him, we need to let my mom know.”
Stetson silently agreed, on the outside doing it all to appease Jaylon, but on the inside because he had decided he would die before he gave up on finding that boy. He should have been there, he thought. He should have been there when it happened, and maybe he could have prevented it.
“I dreamed about this,” Sheree Simmons said. Stetson leaned against the kitchen counter of the Simmons family trailer, his legs crossed long ways, one boot over the other. He sat listening quietly, as Jamie did all the talking.
“Mom, you don't use dreams to figure out missing persons cases. They say the first 48 hours are critical. Do you know anything we don't know about my brother? I need to know everything so we can find him fast.”
“I dreamed someone took him, chopped him up into little pieces, and put him in the trunk. They buried him way out in the desert, by some kind of crater, or dig. All because of who he was. He was so careful.”
“Careful about what?” Jamie said.
“I don't know if he would want me telling you.”
“What is it, god dammit!”
“His nature. He was different. He liked his own kind,” she said, composing herself. Sheree Simmons was without a doubt a very strong woman; her upbringing required her to be, and motherhood had only intensified this pattern. Despite her warmness, her own nature was solid stone.
“He was queer?” Jaylon feigned ignorance and shock. “Dear God. Do you think maybe someone knew, maybe Uncle Ed said something and it got out.”
“No of course not. Ed has not told anyone.”
“You know he's got a big mouth. Maybe he did and they told someone else and maybe that he was living with me.”
“It's impossible Jamie.”
“Let's talk to him then,” Jamie said. So Sheree got up from the table called in Uncle Ed from the other part of the trailer. The family was in the progressive of loading up their attractions, and no one besides Carter’s parents knew about his disappearance. After they informed Uncle Ed of what had happened, he stood there in disbelief, but then started laughing uncontrollably.
“What about this situation could be funny to you Ed,” Sheree said.
“Kid's probably staged his own break-in. He's just looking to run away.”
“That's not what happened. There was blood everywhere. I assume it was because he staged that part too, right Uncle Ed,” Jamie said.
“Yeah of course. I bet it wasn't even real blood.”
“You're an idiot.”
“Well this idiot knows who could have grabbed him, or who he might have run off with. I guarantee you it was his little buddy's family. The friend of his who died.”
“What friend?” Stetson asked, showing only a hint of jealousy no one caught onto.
“He had this friend since he was about 10 years old. They did everything together. He's dead now.”
The television in the small den in the trailer began flashing breaking news. The image caught Stetson's peripheral vision, and he walked away from the kitchen to get a better look, as the rest of the family continued talking.
“Tonight, we have breaking news, of a routine traffic stop gone wrong. A cop was killed tonight after he approached a white sedan for mild speeding. On the dash cam footage, we're about to show you, you can see the cop never had a chance, as the perpetrator point blank shot him in the face, after a short conversation between them. No one knows what the cop said at this time, as the body cam footage is currently classified and under review by the police department. Viewer discretion is strongly advised.”
In the footage, the cop approached the white sedan; the driver was wearing a hoodie. Stetson could see the cop talking with the driver for a few seconds, and then the driver handed the cop his license. When the cop turned around, the man pulled a gun and shot him from behind. Stetson was a fantastic hunter, and even in videos, he had a great instinct for zeroing in on his prey. In the footage, the driver briefly looks in the direction of the dash cam of the police car, and Stetson caught a glimpse of the driver's unforgettable green eyes.
“I'll be god damned,” he said.
“What is it?” Jamie asked. The news station replayed the video several times. “God dammit! God dammit!” Jamie screamed at the top of his lungs. Sheree, Ed, and Stetson looked at Jamie for a few second; unable to comprehend what produced such incense anger.
“I've seen that guy before,” Stetson said. “I damn near broke his hand. I think I may know who took our boy.”
“Who? Tell me! Who?” Sheree called after them, as Stetson opened the door to the trailer, Jamie, Ed, and Sheree following after. Stetson opened the door to his truck and Jamie stepped in, fearful of being left behind. He looked over at Stetson as he started the ignition.
“Where are we going?”
“The police station.”
VI
“We know the license plate and the profile. But the body cam footage will be much clearer,” Presley Watkins said from behind his desk. He was the lead investigator of the police department for missing persons cases, and he had access to all forensic data in the building. Stetson hoped he could convince Watkins to give him access to the body cam footage.
“Let's see that footage,” Stetson said. “I know it's him.”
“So what if it is? This is a guy we've run into before, and when we catch him, this time he's going down. But the question is: what does this have to do with Carter Simmons?” Watkins asked.
“I damn near broke the kid's hand for being an ass,” Stetson said. “He wasn't exactly the softest fella you'd meet. I know he's probably mad at the both of us, Carter and me.”
“How do you know about the guy? I've never heard of him,” Jamie said, refraining from looking at Stetson.
“He's part of the Nash Gibson gang here in Wyoming. They have a history of terrorizing the local blacks and homeless people, but back in the day, they had a lot more power over the county seat. But the times, as they say, are a changing,” Watkins said. He opened the drawer and pulled out a file full of crime scene photos. He handed them to Stetson and Jamie.
“Our men busted into his place last year after a local hobo who hung out at the square went missing. Turns out, the hobo did after all have a family. Even the people at that hardware shop had grown to likin' him. We found the body in a ditch not 20 miles from town, beaten with a tire iron across the face. Marsh's apartment had nothing we could directly tie him to the crime with, so we had to drop the case. There wasn't anything we could do,” Watkins said.
The photos showed pictures of a darkened, incommodious apartment, gray walls, and a single bed in a bare place. There were two air mattresses stacked on top of each other, with a small cheap desk with a metal chair nearby. On the walls were KKK and insignia celebrating the Confederate States of America. Other photos showed a curiously random place in the desert, an archaeological dig site it looked like.
“What's this?” Stetson said.
“Oh that's where we think he hangs out on Fridays, getting drunk with the rest of his gang. We have never found any hard evidence of missing persons at that place so there's no point in hounding them.”
Watkins was coming off as resigned about Jaidon Marsh, and Stetson had a burning desire to smack the cop right across the jaw, given that Carter's life was at stake. Stetson thought the guy was acting mighty careless about following up on any leads, and when Watkins threw another stack of photos in his direction, he immediately knew the man just didn't give a shit about finding Carter. Carter might as well have been given up for dead.
The photos showed gruesome, detailed images of the hobo's body, whose face was lacerated beyond recognition, and in a hallucinatory moment, Stetson saw Carter's broken face and hands in those photos. The hobo's bloody clothes and burned scalp were now Carter's clothes and scalp. Stetson's stomach churned at what his instincts told him—that when he accosted Jaidon Marsh, he'd made a spiteful enemy, and now Carter was paying for it. Stetson felt a tremendous, Herculean responsibility to make things right at all costs, no matter what, no matter how. He realized Presley Watkins neither had the gall nor the smarts to realize the solution to the mystery lay right before him, on his desk, in photographic detail. Stetson knew he would be outside the law, on his own in the mission to save the kid whom he had betrayed, and it was a compromise he was more than willing to take, no matter what the cost. As Watkins continued chatting away with Jamie, Stetson picked up the photo of the dig site, his hunter instincts giving him even more information about Jaidon's possible whereabouts. There was a time when Stetson's father took him to various events around the state. In Wyoming, just about the most exciting thing to experience was a real-life dinosaur dig, as Stetson was a dinosaur fanatic as a child. The place in the photos looked incredibly similar, especially one showing Jaidon standing next to a U-shaped rock formation, the same rock formation Stetson himself had obsessed about in his toddler stages. It was unmistakably the same place.
He decided not to tell Presley Watkins where he was going, as he stood up, putting the picture of the dino dig in his pocket discreetly. He thanked Watkins as he left the room and Jamie followed after. They were walking through the hallway, on their own, when Jamie inquired about Stetson's motives.
“You're acting strange. Why did you leave so quick? Tell me if you've figured something out.”
“I know he took your brother,” Stetson said. “I had a gut feeling at first. But now I know where his hideout is.”
“Where is my brother?”
“There's a dig site not 50 miles south of this place. Went there when I was a kid. He's gotta be there.”
“Well, well why didn't you tell him? We've got to tell him, Stets. That's where my he's got my brother,” Jamie said, his voice calm, as he walked back in the direction of Watkins' office. Stetson grabbed his elbow and pulled him back.
“He ain't got time nor care, Jaylon. We gonna have to take this into our own hands,” he said. “I gotta save him.”
Jaylon became very cold all of a sudden. “Do you think I forgot I caught you fucking my brother? You're a fucking queer and I'm liable to tell Watkins the full story. Maybe you were the one—” Jaylon’s speech was cut off back Stetson's massive hand around his throat. In one instant, he pushed Jamie back into the men's bathroom where they couldn't be heard. Jaylon had never been more afraid in his life.
“I—can't breathe,” he said.
“Listen here fuck stick. I ain't no god damn queer. If I so much as hear one word from you about what you witnessed, you'll be the next missing person bud. Nod your head so you understand me boy.”
Jaylon was a tall guy, but there was not a single human being he'd ever met who was scarier than Stetson in that moment. No matter what animosity Jamie held for those different from him, homosexuals included, there was nothing he'd ever do to put himself at the mercy of the angry cowboy currently choking him. He agreed to keep his mouth shut, and before they could say anything else, both men heard sounds coming from next door. They stepped out of the restroom and took a peek at the cops watching the body cam footage of their murdered fellow officer.
The screen showed the officer approaching the white sedan from behind, where the driver was reluctant to roll down his window. The officer tapped on the window with his flashlight, cracking the glass a little. The man rolled down the window finally, as the officer's flashlight shined into his near-translucent green eyes. The man was Jaidon Marsh.
“You cracked my window,” he said.
“Good afternoon sir. Do you know why I pulled you over today?”
“Speeding I guess. I apologize.” There was not a single mark of sincerity in Jaidon's voice.
“That'd be it. Can I see your license and registration?” Stetson could see Jaidon reach into his pocket and pull out his license to hand to the officer. The tension in the room was palpable, given that the men knew what the outcome of the video was going to be. They all sat, stomachs in knots, anticipating the dreadful moment when the officer would be shot.
“I'll be right back,” the officer said, as the camera turned back in the direction of the police car. When the officer walked near the trunk of the car, there was a strange sound coming from within it. The officer stopped and the men watching could hear him say, “What the shit.” A loud bang emanated from the trunk again and the officer reacted out loud. “There's someone in there!” Before he even had a chance to turn around there was a loud pop of a gun and the camera went down, pointed at the tire, as the officer fell to the ground.
VII
Stetson drove 75 miles per hour down the highway, only 5 miles per hour above the speed limit, but the urgency and dread that permeated the cabin gave Jamie goose bumps.
“Man, I'm sure he's all right. Let's just turn back and let the cops handle it. We're going to get killed, I say. Stets just stop.”
Stetson ignored him as he pulled over to the side of the road. “What the fuck are you doing Stetson? We're in the middle of fucking nowhere. Where are you going?”
Stetson got out of the trunk and walked around the back of the truck bed. He opened a metal box snug against the edge of the rail and pulled out a rifle. He opened the chamber to make sure it was loaded. He walked back around to the driver's seat and pulled out a cell phone, handing it to Jamie.
“Listen here. I'm gonna handle this situation. But I want you to call the cops when I tell you and let them know where we are?”
“Why can't we just call them now!?”
“Because I don't trust them. They won't look for Carter. Once I find him, then we can drag Marsh to jail where he belongs. Are you ready?”
“God a mighty,” Jamie said. “I can't believe this is happening.”
Stetson put his rifle behind the cabin seat and got back into the truck to head to the dig site. He pulled from his pocket the picture he'd stolen from the police station of the rock formation where Jaidon was smoking with his buddies. After some driving around in the dark, he came upon the formation from behind, his headlights revealing it head-on in the distance. When he got as close as he could, Jamie looked out the window at a 50-foot high cliff wrapped around in a semi-circular aboveground cave. Stetson got out of his car and pulled a flashlight from under the seat.
“I want you to follow behind me several yards with this flash light, ya hear?” Stetson told him.
Jamie nodded his head, and both men approached the cave as if an evil wizard has called them forward to face their fate.
They stepped deliberately on the damp sand on step at a time, the light from behind Stetson trembling in fear. The opening of the cave swallowed them whole from the start, where they would have been enveloped in complete darkness if not for Stetson's careful thinking. It was silent, moist, and cool inside, and Jamie waved the light back and forth, scanning each side of the wide tunnel. After a few hundred yards, the tunnel opened out into a clearing, the heart of the cave, and there was nowhere else to go, save a hole in the roof of the rock, where soft moonlight spilled down into the opening. The wind created a hollow moan that sent shivers down Jamie's spine.
Stetson remained stoic and unblinking. He walked around the place, around a smoldering campfire with some black ash in the middle of the area, a few medium size boulders obviously used for benches, and globs of burned cigarette butts. Stetson's head shot around, his ear pointing to the opening of the cave.
“Hey guys?” a familiar voice said. Stetson gripped his rifle as he turned to face Jaidon Marsh, who had a pistol pointing at Stetson. “Mind if I join the party? Your headlights announced your
arrival better than a lighthouse.” Jaidon put on a face of bravado—he was playing muffin—but Stetson could sense nothing but fear from him.
“Drop your gun,” Jaidon said to Stetson. He obliged. Jaidon picked it up and started to hand it to Jamie, who acted confused. “Oh I see. Well, cowboy, let's go. Walk in front of me so I can shoot you when you try to run.”
They walked out of the cave, past Stetson's truck for several miles through the desert. After a while, the flashlight revealed a barbed wire fence in the distance, with a figure tied to one of its posts. As they got closer, Stetson's heart sank at the sight of Carter hanging on the side, his hand beaten to a pulp and the rest of him whimpering from exhaustion.
“Here's your buddy cowboy.” Jaidon's eyes seemed greener than ever with the evil vibrating out of them.
From his peripheral vision, he could see Jamie laugh nervously as he dropped the cell phone Stetson gave him on the ground, crushing it under his feet. Jaidon laughed with him. “Looks like there's nobody to help you now, fucker.” Jaidon and Jamie were working together all along.
He poked Stetson to a nearby post and then pulled out a giant rope. As he sat down the rifle on the post and switched the gun from one hand to another, Stetson's hunting instincts took over, and he jerked his elbow back as hard as he could, planting his thick tricep right in Jaidon Marsh's mouth. He could feel Jaidon's teeth break under the weight of the blow, and Jaidon fell back, screaming. As he did, he dropped the gun where Stetson snatched it from mid air. Without thinking, he shot in the direction of Jamie who fell back screaming, as a bullet grazed his shoulder, and then he fired in Jaidon's direction, blowing his face off all at once. Jamie ran off screaming in the night, and Stetson shouldered the rifle around his torso and the pistol in his tight pants. The worst was over.