Haunted Love

by Jessica Frances

  Aiden nods again, his annoyance obvious to me. I wonder if he is too afraid to open his mouth to say something in case he swears at his captain. I sort of wish he would, since he won’t be able to hear me swearing at him. Not only am I dead, but I’m tied to Aiden, who I can only be friends with. Furthermore, I get to watch him focus on other cases while mine goes away, forgotten about. Great.

  Then again, Aiden would get in trouble if he popped off, and I don’t want that. Therefore, as he stays silent, I keep my ranting inside my head.

  “I’m not saying to drop the Bell case. You can follow your possible lead and keep working it, but I can’t justify keeping you only on that case. I want that son-of-a-bitch caught just as much as you do. I don’t want another woman coming through here having faced the horror that victim went through. Find him.”

  Aiden’s head lifts, and his shoulders straighten. “Yes, sir.” He sounds a little more enthusiastic, and there is relief in his eyes.

  “Good. Now get out. I’m busy.”

  Aiden’s captain stares back down at the files on his desk, a pile I notice is ridiculously high, as Aiden quickly leaves, closing the door gently behind him.

  As soon as we’re alone in the hall, he lets out a deep breath, whispering to me that it is the best outcome we could have hoped for. “I’ll check off some of the names on my list as I look over the new case file. Then I’ll need to go out and have a talk with the gas station owner.”

  “Okay,” I agree, wishing we could listen to my dad’s tapes, instead.

  I’m not sure how I feel about the only detective who is looking for my murderer being placed on another case. It feels callous and insensitive of his boss to do that, not just to me and any future victim, but also to Aiden. Doesn’t he care how much time and effort Aiden has been putting in? Does he not care that, by giving Aiden another case, he’s giving him twice the workload?

  After looking over the case file that has been left on his desk, Aiden grabs his handwritten list and types in each name on the first page into a database. Since there are multiple people with the same name, we have to go off the description of the case and notes my dad made. For example, cases involving possible cheating spouses mean we are searching for someone who has been or still is married while factoring in an appropriate age given the case files are all over twenty years old.

  Ultimately, Aiden is able to cross off several names from the list. A couple are currently doing jail time, a few are tucked away in nursing homes, and sadly, there are many who have passed away. Only two names on the list from the first page are unable to be found using the police database or searching through social media sites. Both are on the older side of life, and unfortunately, people pushing seventy are unlikely to be using technology like that.

  Besides, what are the chances of someone that old being strong enough to attack me, overpower me, and harm me in such a way? I picture cute, old men who are fragile and kind in my mind. Surely, I wouldn’t be brutally killed by someone so weak and sweet looking, right?

  Aiden is quick to point out plenty of celebrities who are over sixty and look terrifying, though. I picture action movies that have an aging slew of Hollywood stars who still appear strong and fit. Of course, while a lot of the scary action scenes could be stunt men and special effects, it is still worrying enough that I stay quiet on the matter afterwards.

  He also calls the storage company my grandpa was using to see if they had written down any of the names of the other people who also bid on the unit. Unfortunately, that is a dead-end, too. There was only one other man besides my neighbor who tried to buy the contents of the unit and he did not leave his name. The security footage isn’t kept longer than a month either, so there is no image for the other buyer.

  After a quick lunch at the deli down the road, something I didn’t even need to nag Aiden about, we head out to the gas station to talk to the owner.

  The gas station is a long and slow hour drive away. When we pull up outside, I notice how seedy and deserted the area appears. The quiet gives this place a sinister feel. There are no cars parked, filling up or driving along the street. I have never been to Vernon before, and I don’t believe I missed out by not seeing it while I was alive.

  “This road looks abandoned.”

  “This neighborhood is notorious for gangs and violence. I’d say most people know to avoid it.”

  I nod, understanding the wish to dodge this place. I would not feel safe coming here alone, let alone at nighttime, which leads me to the question I ask Aiden. “Why would Anna come here alone at night?”

  “I don’t know. She was clearly acting a little erratically in her final days. She was found with a large amount of marijuana in her car as well as traces of the drug in her system; perhaps she was coming to the area for a fix.”

  “I don’t think you really have to come out to a neighborhood like this just to score that.”

  “Oh, really? And what do you, Thea Bell, know about scoring marijuana? Where did you go for your fix?” He raises his eyebrow at me, a smirk playing over his lips.

  “I have never taken drugs in my life, thank you very much. However, I’m not an idiot. I know marijuana is just a plant, and I’ve seen senior citizens being arrested for growing it. If a grandmother can grow the stuff, then you don’t need to come to a seedy area to buy it. Besides, she already had plenty of it in her car, so why stick around?”

  “Because she needed gas, maybe?” he answers, shrugging at me while glancing back over at the gas station. “I don’t know. Stop making me look like a crazy person and let me talk to this guy.”

  I roll my eyes, following Aiden into the small gas station. The bell on the door rings loudly, waking the man behind the counter up who had his arms crossed over the counter with his head resting upon them.

  The man, who we discover is also the owner, appears exhausted. He has dark rings under his eyes, which are glazed from exhaustion as they stare at Aiden warily. From the baggy clothes to his bony arms and gaunt face, he appears as though he has lost weight recently. When Aiden identifies himself, the man’s shoulders slump, and the wariness changes to what I would guess is nerves and then fear.

  Before Aiden can state why he is stopping here to chat, the man goes into full meltdown mode, begging Aiden not to close him down then stating he has kids and a wife to support, and without this income, he won’t be able to pay for food or his mortgage.

  I feel sorry for him. He’s obviously struggling to make ends meet. With how quiet the place is as well as being situated in a bad neighborhood, I can’t say business must be booming for him.

  When Aiden asks why the cameras aren’t working, I notice they have been smashed up. The man mentions they have been broken for months. Understandably, I suppose the security of his store isn’t as high of a priority as feeding his family and keeping a roof over his head. If they had been fixed, this case would likely be as open and close as Aiden’s captain had originally hoped.

  He tells us the same story as what is in the file that Aiden read aloud to me, and when we walk away, I suggest Aiden fill up his tank. He does, and then I watch him go back in and buy a few bags of chips, leaving his change behind.

  A small smile plays over my lips. Aiden might not like to appear it, but underneath his overworked and annoyed self, there is a big softie hiding. He has been generous with his time working my case, going above and beyond for Flynn, and he probably just made that man’s day by leaving a thirty dollar tip.

  I don’t mention it as we leave and neither does Aiden. However, he is frowning as we drive away.

  “What is it?”

  He doesn’t answer right away, but I see there is something eating away at him. I wait him out, rewarded when he does eventually answer me.

  “Something feels off.”

  “Really? I thought that guy was fine, maybe stressed and tired, but I don’t think he’s some evil mastermind.”

  Before Aiden can respond, his cell phone sings loudly from in his poc
ket. He pulls over to answer the call and appears to only listen, nodding his head in agreement, even though the other person can’t see.

  “Got it.” Are the only two words he utters after identifying himself before he hangs up.

  “Who was that?”

  “That was Tim at the coroner’s office. He received Anna Jarvis’s medical files, and three weeks ago, she was diagnosed with an inoperable brain tumor. She was given only a few weeks to live.”

  “She was dying?” I gasp, surprised by the turn of events.

  “Yes. Her husband never mentioned it, although perhaps he never knew. It explains why her actions appeared erratic as of late. Quitting her job, leaving her husband, and taking drugs are all unusual things to do so suddenly and without reason, but now we have a reason.”

  “Why would she try to rob that gas station, though? If she had packed her stuff into her car, then chances are, she was going on a road trip, right? Maybe she was going to Mexico to see the sights she thought she’d always have time for, but now her time is running out. I know I always thought I’d get to travel. I had so many plans. If I knew ahead of time that I was going to die, I would have dropped everything, grabbed Flynn, and travelled the world.”

  I know I sound wistful, and the pitying look Aiden gives me makes me feel worse. There’s no point getting upset about something I can’t change.

  “Maybe it was on her bucket list—rob a gas station,” Aiden rushes to say, no doubt hoping to distract me from my sad train of thoughts.

  “Why did you think something was off before? I thought that man seemed genuine.”

  “The cameras. They’ve been smashed up, the screens obviously broken and the cameras useless. Anyone who sees what is in there can be assured they don’t work. If you do that, you’re hoping to cover up a crime, but he hasn’t reported so much as even a shoplifter in two years. The police have been called out for nothing. In this area and being an easy target, that is strange. I understand him saying he can’t afford to fix the cameras, but he could get some cheap dummy ones. Even a fake camera is a deterrent.”

  “I never thought about that.”

  “Also, most of the products in that store have been there a long time; much of the food is out-of-date, and the place is covered in dust. It’s obvious the place isn’t busy, yet he hasn’t missed a payment on his mortgage. He’s not rich by any means, and his accounts appear normal for an owner of a modestly successful business, but nothing in that place screams out that he is doing well. So, where is he getting the money to make ends meet?”

  “What are you thinking, then?”

  “I’m thinking we might need to do some stakeouts to see what the place is like at nighttime. I want to see what Anna Jarvis saw when she entered that gas station.”

  I nod, feeling a little proud by how Aiden is working out this case. He’s clearly a competent detective. I even feel excited about doing a stake out. I have never been on one before. Maybe I should add that to my own bucket list so I am able to cross it off.

  If only we could have such an easy lead for my own murder case.

  ***

  On our way back, Aiden drops in to see Flynn. This time, when we arrive, the mail has been retrieved and the front door is locked.

  Unfortunately, Flynn doesn’t look any better when he answers Aiden’s knock. His eyes are bloodshot, and there are dark rings underneath. His hair is greasy, and he hasn’t changed his clothes since we last saw him.

  “Oh, Flynn, what are you doing to yourself?” I mutter, reaching out to touch him, but I can’t make contact. No matter how many times I try and fail, I can’t stop myself from trying again.

  “What is that smell?” Aiden insensitively blurts out, holding his hand to his nose.

  “I don’t smell anything.” Flynn shrugs, leading him down the hallway to the living room.

  “That’s because it’s you. When was the last time you showered? I’ve smelled rotting corpses that smelled better than you.”

  “I showered yesterday!” Flynn snaps indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest. Then his eyes shift to the side, the anger over his face changing to thoughtfulness. Soon, his arms drop to his sides. “Actually, it might have been a few days ago. I don’t smell that bad, do I?”

  “Not if you have dead rats attached to your body under those clothes.”

  “Aiden!” I snap at him, slapping him over the arm. “Be kind!”

  “Thanks.” Flynn rolls his eyes.

  “You hungry? How about I order some pizza while you go have a quick shower? Then we can talk about the stuff I arranged while we eat.”

  “I’m not really that hungry.” Flynn shrugs again, his arms appearing more defensively across his chest now.

  “Aiden, he’s lost so much weight since I passed away. Look at him! That shirt never used to be so loose on him. Make him eat, please!”

  “Too bad. I did you a favor by organizing this stuff, so you can eat some pizza,” Aiden tells him, grabbing his cell phone out of his back pocket as he turns his back on Flynn, showing him he is finished with the conversation.

  I watch Flynn’s indecision play over his face, the sadness staying in his eyes the entire time. Then he settles on resigned and leaves the room. Soon after, we hear the water running.

  “I’m so worried about him. Why is he alone? He shouldn’t be alone now. Where are his friends? How am I supposed to leave him like this? Why did I have to die? Why couldn’t I have fought harder? Why didn’t I survive this?”

  A few tears escape down my face, and I don’t feel any comfort when Aiden hugs me to him. Instead, my anger grows.

  “It’s not fair. My killer is alive. He gets to be with his family and probably doesn’t have a care in the world. Not only did he steal my life, but he took away the Flynn I know.”

  “I know, and I promise you, I will get you justice. And Flynn isn’t alone. I won’t leave him alone. I promise I’ll keep checking in on him and won’t stop,” Aiden tells me.

  Despite the fact that I should probably feel bad at adding to his burdens, I don’t. It makes me feel better to know someone will look out for Flynn.

  “Can you check his fridge? I need to see what state it is in.”

  Aiden nods, removing his arms from around me, but his hand wraps over mine, holding me securely in his grip. He walks us into the kitchen, and I wince at seeing the empty beer bottles lining the counter. In the fridge, there are only some moldy vegetables, a half empty tub of butter, and expired milk with disgusting chunks already forming.

  Aiden clears out the old food, placing it all in the trash, and then clears the empty beer bottles.

  “Flynn has never been a drinker. This is not good.”

  “Give him a break, Thea. He is dealing with some heavy shit and just trying to cope right now. It won’t always hurt like this for him.”

  “I wish I could hug him. I wish he could hear me.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry you can’t.”

  Aiden keeps cleaning up, and I cry silently, watching him work. My heart both breaks for Flynn and how much trouble he is having coping with my loss and grows from how nice Aiden is being. I didn’t ask him to clean up for Flynn, and he doesn’t really have to check in on him. He might only be doing it because I am here, but he didn’t have to make a promise to look in on Flynn. I know he means it, too. I won’t be here forever, but after I am gone, I know Aiden will keep his promise.

  Flynn comes back out a few minutes later, looking better and definitely smelling nicer. He doesn’t comment on the fact that Aiden is cleaning up his house. He simply begins to help him. It isn’t long before the house looks much more tidy and livable. I would love to run a vacuum over the place, but this is better than nothing.

  Minutes later, the pizza arrives, and they eat as they begin talking about the arrangements I suggested, which Aiden called to confirm earlier.

  Flynn is relieved not to have to deal with it, and he doesn’t object to anything that has been planned. He doesn’
t ask how Aiden knew what to do and how he knew what I would want. I’m glad because I have no idea how Aiden would answer. As far as Flynn knows, Aiden never met me, and the first time he ever heard about me was when he got the case. He shouldn’t know anything about whether I would want to be buried or cremated. He shouldn’t know who to inform about the service, which charity I like, or what my favorite songs are. Flynn is too deep into his grief to realize those questions, though.

  Right as the last piece of the two large pizzas is consumed, Aiden’s cell rings.

  He answers it, and I ignore the one sided conversation at first, staring at Flynn, instead. Then I notice the tension entering Aiden’s body, the sharper tone, and his eyes straying to me.

  “When?” he barks out. “Be there in five.” He hangs up, his eyes staying on me for a moment before he looks to Flynn.

  “There’s been a break in at Thea’s house. A neighbor called it in. The police are there, but the suspect fled the scene before they arrived.”

  “Someone broke into Thea’s house? Why?”

  “I don’t know, but as far as the police are concerned, nothing appears to be missing. I’m going to head over there now.”

  “Can I come?”

  “Are you sure you want to?”

  “Is it safe for him to be going there with my murderer still free?” I ask worriedly. Unfortunately, with Flynn there with us, I don’t get an answer to my question.

  “Yes. I need to go there eventually, so I might as well do it tonight.” Flynn shrugs at Aiden, appearing nonchalant, but I see his fear. He’s pushing himself to do this.

  The ride to my house is done in silence, and as Aiden parks outside my place, the flashing lights of a police cruiser light up the front of the house. I instantly feel an eerie sense of déjà vu.