Good Boy Gone: Mountain Justice (Buck Valley Mysteries Book 1)

by Joshua Erik Rossi

  “I understand. Has Chief Ryker come by?”

  “Oh, he was here while they…” She stopped and shielded her face with her hand as if she were seeing it all again. “They...they didn’t get all the blood. I had to clean it up. It took days. There was a stain on the carpet. Roy ripped it out of there. I sure liked that carpet.”

  “Did they say who done it?” Steve asked. “Do they have any ideas?”

  “No. Chief Ryker thinks Jimmy did it.”

  “Suicide?” I asked.

  “That’s right, but I didn’t see it. He was happy. You know he was. You saw him.”

  “Yes ma’am. He was at the diner last week with Ian and Dale. He seemed fine. They were laughing and carrying on the way they always do.”

  More tears fell, and she wiped her face with a towel. “I’ll never get over it. I know I won’t. I keep seeing the blood…”

  I pulled out a chair for her. “Here, sit down Mrs. Hamilton. Is there anything we can do for you?”

  “The pot roast is more than enough, Seth. Thank you. You’re both so kind. I appreciate you coming out here.”

  “Well, Jimmy was a good boy,” Steve said. “If there’s anything we can do, let us know. Do you mind if I use your bathroom before we ride back to town?”

  “Go on,” she said, with a quick wave of her hand.

  As soon as Steve reached the end of the hall, I saw him turn left instead of right and I knew he was going into Jimmy’s room, looking for clues.

  “I saw your ma the other day,” Mrs. Hamilton said.

  “Oh yeah?” I never knew what to say. I hadn’t seen my mother in years.

  “She didn’t say anything. She was out foraging, collecting kindling wood and herbs. It was odd seeing her walking this far down off the mountain. She seemed all right, though. Didn’t stay around long and she went back up there.”

  I nodded my head, accepting the grief, mine, and hers. She knew my family. Everybody did. I was the only Keegan to make it out of the family business and down off that mountain alive.

  Steve came back to the kitchen, and we said our good-byes. As long as he was gone, he’d had time to walk through the house. “They’re going to bury him out back,” he said after we got in the truck. “Roy dug a fresh grave.”

  “They’ve got a family cemetery. The Hamilton’s have been here forever.”

  “You heard what she said. The old man doesn’t come home. He’s avoiding the place. Maybe he found out Jimmy was gay and he shot him.”

  “Roy Hamilton wouldn’t shoot his son.”

  “How do you know? Your pa shot at you a few times, didn’t he?”

  “That’s different.”

  “How’s it different?”

  “Steve, you know what my family is like. They shoot at each other all the time.”

  He snickered, but he opened up his notebook and started writing.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I’m adding his name to the list.”

  “Just because he wasn’t there, doesn’t mean…”

  “He’s a suspect.”

  “What about Mrs. Hamilton? I guess she’s on the list now, too.”

  “Naw, I saw her eyes. She doesn’t know what happened to Jimmy.”

  “You saw…”

  “I’m a good judge of character, Seth Keegan. You know I am. I trusted you, didn’t I?”

  “I wish you would stop bringing this back to me.” I started the ignition and drove down the dirt road.

  “The thing is...you could have been Jimmy. Roy might have done it. Look what your pa did to you. You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

  “Yeah well, he missed.”

  “I couldn’t do anything to help you back then. I didn’t have the nerve, but I am not the same Steve Lark that grew up here. Nah, that boy is gone, long gone.”

  The slick tone in his voice made me uncomfortable. It didn’t sound like him. The guy riding with me wasn’t the same one who made a fuss over Miss Janette's Yorky. He wasn’t the one who cried at all the sad movies. “If we do catch the guy,” I said, “we’re turning him in to Chief Ryker.”

  “Sure we are,” Steve said. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a phone.

  “Is that Jimmy’s?”

  “Yes, Sir, and it’s unlocked.”

  Chapter 4

  Steve scrolled through the phone looking for clues, but I wasn’t thinking about the murder. Steve Lark was at my side, riding in my truck. In a town of flannel and tobacco, he’s hard to ignore. Steve was polished and refined. His blond hair was long, wavy and it rested on his shoulders. The short stylish beard framed his face and his confidence had grown beyond his looks. He was better looking than ever and he still smelled like cotton candy. I had a hard time concentrating.

  “Whoa,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “It’s going to take a while to figure this out. He was on a ton of dating sites.”

  “Did he make any calls before he was killed?”

  Steve worked his thumb over the screen and froze.

  I felt the shock across the cab of the truck. “What?”

  “The call history was erased. There’s nothing here.”

  “All of it?”

  “Yeah,” Steve said, “and I found the phone in his room, so someone in the house did this.”

  “I thought you said the phone was missing.”

  “It was. Mrs. Davis told me that yesterday. She said Ryker couldn’t find it.”

  “Maybe Ryker had it and he returned it,” I said.

  “Maybe. Whoever it was, they wanted to hide who Jimmy was talking to before his death.”

  “You shouldn’t have taken the phone.”

  “Why not? It’s going to give us more clues. You heard what Mrs. Hamilton said, Roy hasn’t been around. I don’t think he’ll miss it.”

  “She might.”

  “Nah. The only thing she’s missing is her boy.” Steve put the phone in his pocket. “It’s going to take a while to go through all the messages on the dating sites. Do you want to grab something to eat?”

  “Why do you talk like you’re still in the city? There’s no place to grab anything except for my diner and I’m done cooking for the day.”

  “How do you own a diner and not eat?”

  “For the same reason you don’t cut your hair,” I muttered. He was the only man in town who dared to sport long, wavy locks.

  “I’ll have you know I have my hair done at Beaux Creations de Cheveux.” He indignantly flipped his hair over his shoulder and went back to looking out the side window.

  It took everything I had not to smile or at least, chuckle. “Never heard of it.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Hey, I get my hair cut.”

  He huffed. “I know where you go. You may as well let a dog groomer do it.”

  “It’s cheap,” I argued. “Six bucks.” He looked at me like I’ve been committing a felony.

  “My salon is beside your diner.”

  “I know that.”

  “You’ve purposely avoided me for years,” he stated.

  “Yeah, well…” I readjusted my grip on the steering wheel and stared at the road ahead. My knuckles whitened.

  “Come to my place. I’ll make supper for us.”

  I burst into a forced laugh with enthusiasm. “You’re going to cook? You are?”

  “Fine. Go home hungry, open another can of ravioli, and watch rodeos.”

  “How do you know what I watch?”

  “That’s all you ever watch,” he said. “You don’t change Seth Keegan. Nothing about you changes. You wear the same flannel shirts, blue jeans and cowboy boots you always wore. You’re in the same apartment above the diner which also hasn’t been touched since 1944. You probably have old Tom’s furniture up there.”

  I sighed. “Nothing broke. Why throw it away?”

  “Style?”

  “I don’t have any.”

  He smiled at me. “At least you’re honest
.”

  There it was. The genuine, heartwarming smile came to his lips and his green eyes sparkled. I heard people’s eyes glisten or light up, but I’d never seen it happen for real, except with Steve.

  “Come to my trailer. We’ll eat and go through Jimmy’s messages and texts.”

  “I don’t know. That’s personal.”

  “We have to do it if we’re going to catch the killer,” he said. “We need more clues and you need to eat.”

  “How do you know so much about what I do?”

  “Like I said, you haven’t changed.”

  “Sometimes that’s good,” I replied. “The things that don’t change in life are things you can count on.”

  Chapter 5

  I took Steve back to town and waited while he got into his little convertible. There were people in their yards and on their porches. Kids were playing, enjoying the warm summer evening, but it felt like everyone stopped to stare when they saw us.

  As I followed Steve out of town with my truck, I realized that what I’d attempted to silence for years was going to start all over again. The rumors, the talk and all those looks we got before were about to come back. I couldn’t handle it when we were in high school and Pa beat me for it many times.

  I was determined to prove I was no different than the people in town. I didn’t want to be known as the gay kid from the ridge. I could live and work in this town just like anyone else, but that meant I had to stay away from Steve. I quit calling him. He went off to the city for a while and things calmed down. About four years ago when he came back and rented out the empty shop next to my diner, I was furious. I waited to see if I’d lose customers. I waited for the hate to rise up when he designed his shop like Saint Paul’s Cathedral of London. It didn’t happen. In fact, all the women in town rushed over there to have their hair done and afterwards, they came into my diner. The rebellious teens did the same. I wanted to stay angry at Steve, but I couldn’t. He’d increased my daily business.

  Still, they talked. People like to gossip. It’s a favorite past time in our town. There isn’t much to do here in the way of entertainment. I tried to stay off their radar, but now it would be impossible. A gay kid had been murdered and Buck Valley’s two most prominent gays were hanging out together. The talk would last all summer long.

  Steve lived in what I called a fancy trailer, but he referred to it as a manufactured home. He had it custom built. People said he’d become citified and now he considered our houses to be nothing more than shacks. I think he had it built so he could have a crew of construction workers at his beck and call every day. The rumors, if any of them were true, said he’d had more than a few of those workers in to try out his new hot tub.

  He was born out and proud. Steve was confident in who he was and he was telling the truth when he said his parents supported him. What he doesn’t know, or maybe he does, is that everyone in town thinks his whole family is weird. His mom and dad were hippies and I think they still are. His brother legit left to join the circus and he’s a tightrope walker. His sister moved to California and she’s in an alternative rock band. Rumor has it, Steve’s grandparents live in a penthouse in New York City. For thirty two years, everyone in town has been trying to find out exactly who they are and what they do.

  I’d been to his parent’s single-wide, but I’d never gone into the fancy trailer. It looked small from the front and ordinary, except for the gardens. Steve loves flowers. They are everywhere all year round. He even has a green house in the backyard. The white iron gate, the entrance leading to the front door, was locked. “I don’t remember seeing this locked gate before,” I said. “Are you pretending you’re in a gated community? When did you build it?”

  “How would you know anything about a gated community, ridge-runner? You saw it in a movie, huh? I built it last year. I had a stalker online. Sweet man, but he had some crazy kinks that I wanted nothing to do with.”

  “I can’t imagine anything being too crazy for you.”

  “My shoes. He wanted my shoes.”

  “Oh?”

  “He sent videos of him naked, begging me to let him watch me take my shoes off.”

  “Foot fetish. Yeah, that’s different.”

  “Well, to each his own,” he said, going into the house, “but it didn’t do anything for me. He got angry and sent two hundred hate messages to my phone.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Yes, and after I’d come back from the city, well, I don’t trust anyone.”

  “Is that what changed you? The stalker?”

  “Oh lord no,” he said, hanging up his keys on a hook. He closed the door and locked it. He alarmed the gate. “I got beat up in the city.”

  “You never told me that,” I said.

  “How am I supposed to tell you anything when you avoid me like the plague?”

  “The talk…”

  “Yes. Yes, I know. You’re worried what the neighbors think of you.”

  “Yeah I worry and with good reason. If Jimmy was killed for being gay, there’s good reason to worry.”

  “That’s true,” he agreed. “If the killer has a hate list, I’m sure my name is on it and it’s probably near the top.”

  I couldn’t disagree. Steve lived life out loud. That’s how he was and everyone in town knew it. “I just thought of something.”

  “What?”

  “If this killer is murdering gay guys, why didn’t he come after you first?”

  “Gee, thanks,” he said. “Dumping me in high school wasn’t enough? You want me dead, too? What did I do to you?”

  “I didn’t dump you and I never wanted you dead. You hear what you want to hear. What I meant was, if the killer’s motive is to kill gays, you’re the most visible gay in town. Hell, you were born out. Why would he go after Jimmy who wasn’t even out to most people?”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” he said with a grin. “What do you call it when you date someone on a regular basis and suddenly they stop calling?”

  “We weren’t dating. We were going places together.”

  “Oh really?”

  “Yeah,” I said, “and we’re getting off track here. You’re missing my point entirely, which is why I stopped calling you. You are hard as hell to talk to.”

  “You think so?” he asked. “Why?”

  I gave him a quick glance and walked away.

  “Still running from me?”

  “I am not running anywhere. I’m talking about a murder. What are you talking about?”

  He sighed and sat down in a chair. It must have been his favorite because it was old and it didn’t match anything else in his living room. “I guess we’re talking about why I’m not dead and Jimmy is.”

  “Exactly. Unless,” I said, “the killing had nothing to do with him being gay. Maybe he was murdered for another reason.”

  “Maybe Chief Ryker is right.”

  “Suicide?”

  Steve shrugged. “People can seem happy when they’re depressed. We should talk to his friends. They would know more about his true feelings.” He paused. “Why do you think I’m so hard to talk to?”

  “I have to go. I get up at four o'clock in the morning.”

  “What about supper? It’s not that late.”

  “I can’t. Sorry. After we close tomorrow, okay?”

  “Sure,” he said, standing up. “Listen Seth...was it something I did?”

  “Huh?”

  “The real reason you stopped calling me.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

  “It matters to me,” he said. “If I did something to upset you, I’d like to know, especially since we’re partners now.”

  “Partners?”

  “Partners. Detectives, like Holmes and Watson?”

  “We are not even close to being Holmes and Watson,” I told him. “Look, it was nothing. Let’s start over. Okay?”

  “I’ve known you for years. Why start over? What was so wrong from before?”

  “
Nothing. It was me, okay? The talk. The rumors. It got to me, but it doesn’t matter now.”

  “Jesus Seth, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking about that at all when I came into the diner this afternoon. That’s what this was all about? People talking about us?”

  “I wasn’t ready for it.”

  “Are you ready now?”

  I headed for the door. “You’re impossible.”

  “No, I’m possible. I’m very possible.” He smiled and those green eyes sparkled with mischief. He chuckled. “All right,” he said, “I’ll let you go, again. We’ll investigate more on Jimmy’s case tomorrow.”

  I nodded and went out the door. My feet never listened to my head or my heart. I wanted to stay, but I couldn’t. I was in my truck, driving down the street and his fancy trailer was in my rear view mirror before I could stop myself. I paused at the stop sign wondering if I’d ever find the courage to stay with him. He was right. I’d been running from this, from him, for years.

  Chapter 6

  I couldn’t sleep. My pillow felt like a pile of rocks. It was a hot, humid night, and I meant to bring the AC unit up from the storage closet downstairs, but I hadn’t done it. Usually, there was a breeze that came down from the mountains and it blew through my bedroom windows. Tonight, the air was stagnant and thick. Lying on top of the covers, I waited for a breeze, any breeze, but it never came.

  I blamed my sleeplessness on the heat, but I couldn’t stop thinking about Jimmy. I saw him last Tuesday. He came into the diner with Ian & Dale. They were laughing. He didn’t do or say anything out of the ordinary. It was typical Jimmy Hamilton smiling at Dale’s jokes, or maybe he was smiling at Dale. Period. Does falling for a straight guy make you suicidal? Maybe. They sat at the booth in the corner and ordered three burgers, three large cheese fries, two Pepsi's and a Root beer.

  Those three traveled in a pack since elementary school. They were together so often people forgot they weren’t brothers. What would Ian and Dale do without Jimmy?

  I regretted agreeing to help solve this murder. Who was I to pry into people’s lives? I brewed coffee and cooked hamburgers for a living. I simplified it. It was easier for me to handle, but the truth was I was more involved in their lives than I wanted to be. I heard their conversations. The people in this town included me in their daily existence. As much as I tried to remain alone, I knew everyone and somehow, they knew me. I was Seth Keegan, the gay kid from the mountains. Steve Lark was the gay guy in town and Jimmy?