by J. L. Hickey
“Right, deep shit, aye?” Aaron question.
“You could say that,” She sat back down. “I really want another drink.”
“You should let your stomach settle first.”
“Yeah,” she didn’t like that answer but saw it to be true.
“You believe him?” asked Aaron?
“About the manifestation thing?”
“Yeah, I mean, I know a little bit about psychology and that jazz. I got an associate’s degree yea to know?” he gave her a thumbs-up as if to ask ‘impressed?’ He continued, “I have watched enough reality tv to know the mind can do some fucked up shit to someone’s psyche. Got to love I.D. Channel.”
“I don’t believe it, no,” Haylee said bluntly.
“Really? Not even a shred of it? I mean, the shit you’ve been through? I believe it.”
“I can’t believe it,” Haylee replied.
“Why not?”
“—Because,” Haylee shook her head. “I never told anyone this, but I was having dreams about it, the thing that haunts me, I saw it before the murder. The dream was...you know...different. Not the thing, it looks the same. But now it taunts me with my sister.”
“What is it? The thing? Is it like a dude, a person?” asked Aaron.
“No, not human, not even close.” Haylee let out a deep sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Okay, okay,” Aaron frowned. “I’ve been hard at work while you took that hour shower. Found some decent stuff. Maybe a few leads. You up for that?”
“Yeah,” she nodded. “What did you find out? Anything I need to know?”
“Well, it’s definitely weird,” Aaron pulled the laptop forward. “This is your neighbor Dennis’s Facebook profile.” Aaron clicked open a browser. There stood the smiling face of Dennis Simmons, his perfectly parted salt and pepper hair. More salt than pepper, but he wore it well. Just a hint of a five o’clock shadow. Fairly attractive man in his late forties.
Haylee thought he looked happy in the photo.
“Pretty normal, public, says he’s married, even links to his son. Lots of photos of cars, but nothing family-wise other than the bio section linking to Brandon,” Aaron explained.
“That’s not too weird. I have lots of friends on Facebook that sit around all day, posting nothing but memes. Sort of like shadow profiles, at least he has real pictures. Some of my friends just use memes.”
“Well, look, as we scroll down, he has lots of people commenting. They’re all dudes, see…” Aaron scrolled through multiple posts on his page, pics, musings, basically the average Facebook wall from a fifty-something-year-old married man.
“I don’t see what is so weird about that?” Haylee frowned.
“So, all these comments and mini conversations he’s having stemming from his posts are with dudes. All of them. See?” He highlights multiple posts with the cursor. “Very few women, maybe three total, and one’s his sister.”
“Okay?” Haylee shook her head. “So what?”
“Well, not all of the profiles are private. So, I began trying to see if one of them may have been the guy his son posted about. You know, maybe get lucky?”
“Wait. What?” Haylee wasn’t following. “What did Brandon post?”
“I forgot to mention. His son has a page too. I mean, who doesn’t, right? My mom had a page for her Australian Sheppard, updates it daily,” Aaron joked, Haylee did not laugh. “Right, anyway... Brandon posted the night before last about his parents not answering his calls or dm’s, and that he thought someone from out of town was visiting them. He asked if any friends or family had heard from them. It’s all right here, see?” He clicked another browser open to Brandon’s profile and highlighted the specific post about his parents.
“I’m still confused as to why this matter?”
“Well, I noticed a theme. A lot of these guys, and I mean a lot of them are gay, bi, you know switch hitters. They’re also open about it on their pages. Like, more than eighty percent of the people he is talking with fly the rainbow flag with pride.”
“That’s a good thing,” Haylee suggested.
“Hey, I love gay people. I got most of my weed back in LA from my gay friend Timmy. The dude had the best smoke, way better than the stuff I get here.”
“Okay, focus,” Haylee tapped his laptop screen.
“I’m just saying if the shoe fits. And I think this dude had some sugar in his,” Aaron smiled.
“You think he is gay?” Haylee questioned. “He’s not gay.”
“Well, yeah,” Aaron didn’t understand how Haylee wasn’t making the connection. “I mean, I hang out with a diverse group of people. I have gay friends, lesbian friends. I even have a few Trump supporter friends. But I don’t have an overwhelming amount of any one of those friends,” Aaron explained. “Looks to me like Dennis used Facebook to meet dudes. Maybe behind his wife’s back?”
“He’s married and has a kid in college,” Haylee protested.
“So?” Aaron shrugged his shoulders. “Why does that matter?”
“Because he’s obviously not gay.”
“You have a lot to learn, young one.”
“Last I checked, I was your elder,” she got up from the couch. She began pacing around the living room. “Did you find this guy who was supposed to have been spending time over there?” she asked.
“I think so,” Aaron smiled. “I should have been a detective, huh?”
“If you say so,” Haylee hovered beside him. “Pull up his page.
“Here it is. His name is Gary Thom. Lives in Hemlock Hills, Mi. Openly gay looks like he has a supportive group of friends. Has his family in lots of photos. Listed being single. Look at his last post…”
Gary Thom: Meeting a friend in Emmet County Up North, should be back next week! =)
“Well, he definitely came here to Emmett,” Haylee sighed. “Certainly looks like it could be him. He didn’t post anything after this, did he?”
“Silence, nothing. Page goes dark.”
“So, I guess...what?” Haylee began to muse out loud. “Dennis had a gay friend? Why is this important? You’re jumping to conclusions. Circumstantial as my Dad would say.”
“Listen, Dennis had a gay friend, you said Nora was lonely. I dunno, I’m just thinking out loud. Maybe your neighbor had a secret? This is America, stranger things happen. People have secrets, you know? We all do.”
Secrets.
Haylee knew about secrets.
“Nora always said it was business meetings and trips,” argued Haylee. “Pretty sure gay men hold jobs, they go on trips, have straight friends.”
“He didn’t say he was making a business trip. Gary Thom said he was meeting a friend. Then the dude used a smiley emoji. That’s not a professional post on a professional Facebook page. And, you said Nora was lonely and visited you a lot at the house. Because her husband wasn’t into her anymore.”
“I mean…” Haylee couldn’t quite grasp the concept.
“So, you want more evidence?” Aaron smiled. “I got more.”
“What?” asked Haylee.
Aaron opened up a new browser. He typed something fast, Haylee couldn’t see it.
“This is Scruff, ever heard of it?”
“No,” Haylee replied.
“It’s a Gay hook up site, like Grindr, but not.”
“Okay…” Haylee looked closer at the page Aaron had brought up, “Is that…?”
“Mr. Dennis Simmons profile on Scruff? Yes, Haylee, yes, it is,” he mocked her with a telling voice.
&
nbsp; “How did you find that?” Haylee’s jaw dropped. She couldn’t fathom what she was seeing.
“Reverse image search on Google. Lot’s of pics Dennis posted on his Facebook page. I got a hit on the one we’re looking at. Dude’s gay, or Bi, whatever.”
“You think? Did Nora know?” Haylee shook her head in disbelief.
The word secret popped up in her head. Sat there, haunting her. Her stomach dropped.
“No clue, but unless she had reason to think her husband was cheating on her, I doubt she was searching gay dating sites for her husband’s picture. I mean, you see his name, right? Donald Sigmund, it’s a pseudonym. I would have never have found it without the reverse image search.”
“Okay...wait, back up,” Haylee was still recovering from the nightmare. Her head still hurt. Now she had to digest this turn of events. Her brain was swimming with half-thoughts and theories, what-ifs and how-comes. “So, we found out that the Simmons had a friend over for the week. His name was probably this Gary Thom guy. Brandon, Dennis’s son, who is away to college, couldn’t get ahold of his parents. So, he posted on Facebook about finding out if anyone had heard or seen them in the last few days. You were able to backtrack that, somehow to Gary Thom’s Facebook. Then you stalked Dennis’ profile and noticed he conversates with a lot of gay men and did an image search for his pictures allowing you to find him on a gay dating ap site.”
“Yep,” Aaron stood up excitedly. “Nailed it!”
Haylee gave him a dirty look. “Nora was my friend,” her lips pursed with anger.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Aaron regretted that immediately. “I mean, it makes sense, though. He invited this guy over to his house, behind his wife’s back. Living this double life, and something goes wrong. Maybe this Thom guy is a serial killer, a fucking looney tune. He kills them both and makes his way back to town. Although the news is spreading on the groups as we speak, that there is a search party out there in the woods behind your old home. Cops have been scouting out the area. He may have gotten away. There’s a statewide search set up and everything.”
“Fucking great,” Haylee dropped her face into her hands. “Murderer on the loose.”
“Look, it’s too early to tell, this is just a theory. We won’t know what happened until tomorrow when the police release a statement if that’s even tomorrow. Maybe we should take a break from this. Maybe watch a movie? I was looking at your collection while you slept. Horror buff, I see.”
“I used to be. I can’t watch that stuff anymore,” Haylee got up from the couch. “I don’t care. I’m getting a drink. I need something strong. I need vodka.”
“Yeah, I suppose I could use one as well,” Aaron stepped over the large Dane, who didn’t flinch. The dog was passed out, snoring loudly.
“Hey, Haylee,” Aaron stopped at the entrance into the kitchen as she made her way to the fridge. “I’m really sorry you’re going through this.”
“Thanks,” she said. “It’s been a rough few years. That’s an understatement, to be honest. It’s nice to have someone here with me. I need the company. Not a lot of people I know here in Michigan, and my own family is still down in Ohio.”
“You know, I was pissed when I had to move back home,” Aaron pulled two mason jars from Haylee’s cupboard above the sink. “After my accident, I lost everything I had worked so hard for. I was so close to nailing my big part.”
“You lived in Hollywood, right?” asked Haylee. “You’ve mentioned it briefly before.
“Yeah, chasing dreams, you know? A fat chubby kid from Michigan looking to make a splash in Hollywood. Silly, I suppose. But I was sort of doing it. Had some things in the works.”
“Why is it silly?” Haylee untwisted the top off the vodka.
“Parents told me I was crazy. Get a real job sorta stuff. They were supportive but didn’t get it either. We had a strange relationship when I moved out there. Pretty sure me moving home was their ‘I told you so’ moment.” Aaron took a deep breath, “I don’t know why I got in that damn car,” followed by a deep sorrowful sigh. “I should have stayed home. I was working on a script. I planned on staying in, hard work, right? Shits supposed to pay off. Then my roommate landed a role on some shitty sitcom. It’s not airing, by the way, never got picked up by any networks. It doesn’t matter, we went out, partied like big shots. Alcohol, hard drugs, we lived the life, always partying. I got in the back seat. Dumb ass, he drove, his girl was with him. Boom!” Aaron clapped his hands together.
“What happened?” Haylee took the two glasses from him.
“Hit a tree, drunk ass Matt hit a fucking tree. Took a corner going eighty the cops said. We survived. I got the worse of it. He spun the damn car. The back hit a telephone pole on my side. Just fucked me up something fierce. Spent a month in the hospital, something like that? Many more in physical therapy. I had a few gigs lined up, small roles, but they were paying roles.”
“You gave up?” Haylee’s voice sounded defeated herself.
“Yep. I wound up giving in. Swallowed my pride. Moved back here with a coke problem. At least I was closer to my parents. Its why I get the pills, you know? I try not to use em’ much, but there are days where the back pain is unbearable. It’s why I have the cane, why you see my fat ass limping at times. Fucking Matt. God-damned piece of shit, Matt. Dude is a loser.”
“I’m sorry,” Haylee poured a large portion of vodka into the mason jar. She followed it with a handful of ice cubes. “Want pop with it? I got Pepsi.”
“Naw, I’ll sip it, thanks,” Aaron took a long sip straight. It burned his throat. “We need to get you better vodka.”
“Fuck today,” Haylee nodded.
“Fuck every day,” Aaron took another drink.
ELEVEN
No one was answering their phones, but maybe that was a good thing. Fewer distractions while Haylee traversed one of the biggest snowstorms Northern Michigan had seen in years. Not only was the snow thick, making her vision less than stellar on the road, but heavy winds batted her car, causing her to swerve uneasily—her knuckles, still white from gripping the steering wheel in fear of losing control.
Haylee drove an hour south down I-75 before talking to her father. It was then they decided the weather was only getting worse downstate. It would be safer to turn around and reschedule her visit. She needed to get away, though. She needed a break from the stress at home, from her sister, especially from her fiancé, Robbie. No matter the pressure, the mental health break she needed, Mother Nature was not going to allow it.
The conversation with her father was looming in her head. She needed to gather the strength and courage to confront Robbie.
Be open.
Be honest.
Come clean.
About everything.
She thought of Robbie, his sudden outbursts of violence. It was so unlike him. It has been growing; for weeks now, she could sense the friction between the two. Was he cheating, was he unhappy? Did he know? Could he have found out about her secret too? She couldn’t forget about what she was hiding from him as well...She hadn’t mentioned that to her father. It was too personal. She’d been up every night crying when no one was around. She’d been a basket case ever since the doctor told her the terrible news.
She held dealt with it all for months, alone.
Trying to come to terms with everything.
She also had to do this while her little sister was not in the house. She didn’t want Camille to see her weak. Camille was always the strong one, the smart one, daddy’s perfect angel. Finally, for the first time in their life, Camille needed her sisters help.
She was running away from an abusive husband, starting over, scared, unsure of herself. Haylee wo
uld never admit to it or say it out loud even to herself, but deep-down Haylee was happy her sister’s marriage failed. Camille did everything first, and better than Haylee, even with marriage. But if things continue to go down the route, it’s going with Robbie, Haylee won’t have a fiancé anymore, and will be in the same boat as her little sister.
Haylee was older by four years. She was supposed to be the first Leveille girl to get married, to graduate college, to have kids. Somehow, her younger sister beat her down the aisle, both in terms of marriage and graduation. Camille was married at twenty-one to her high school sweetheart, David (he was a drunk back then too) and on a fast track to divorce all before Haylee even gotten proposed to.
That was her sister, though, always the stealer of the spotlight. The baby could never do anything wrong in daddy’s eyes, unlike Haylee, who, for the most part, was a fuck up, a failure. She dropped out of college, couldn’t hold a steady job, and drank way too much (for reasons nobody cared to understand). She learned to live her life in the moment. She loved the spontaneity of it. Mostly, because as a young girl, Haylee had so many of the things she loved ripped from her.
Camille was the opposite, of course, a meticulous planner. Everything came easy to her. She got A’s in school, captain of the soccer team, and was valedictorian of her class. Their parents never fought about finding her the ‘right’ help. Perhaps she had an older sister to learn mistakes from, maybe that’s why she turned out so much better than Haylee. Haylee didn’t mind the sound of that. She loved her sister; she did. She wanted her to be happy, to find love, a career. She just wanted out of little sister’s shadow. Not to be the screw up for once.
Where Camille had the smarts, the drive, and ambition, Haylee had natural beauty. And she knew it. Even when she was young, boys always looked at her differently. Not that Camille wasn’t pretty; they both took after their long-lost mother, who was a timeless beauty. They had her eyes, soft, dark brown, her olive-colored smooth and silky skin, gorgeously curved body. Haylee had pictures of her mother all over her old bedroom back in Ohio. As a kid, she dreamt of growing up as beautiful as her, boys swooning over her. Camille was just more homely, a tom-girl who married a young Police officer, so of course Daddy Detective thought he was the perfect gentlemen.