by J. L. Hickey
“I do,” Haylee replied bluntly. “So, why do you think this Gary guy knows me?”
“Well, there was some evidence at the crime scene. They found your initials on a sheet of paper in one of the victim’s mouths. H-E-L. At first, we thought the killer just misspelled Hell, which was bizarre in its own right. Then, we started noting some of the connections to your case, as you mentioned. It dawned on me...your middle name.”
“Elyce,” Haylee said softly. “Why would he do that, though?”
“We were hoping you could shed some light on that for us,” Pike frowned.
“I swear to you. I have no connections to that guy, at least none that I know of. I mean, I was shocked as anyone to hear about Dennis’ secret life. I knew them both; he and Nora well. We’d become sort of friends. I just never thought, no one did. At least I don’t think.”
“What about your relationship with the Simmons?” asked Velasquez.
“What do you mean? I said we were friends. I was closer to Nora than Dennis, but we all got along.”
“Anyone else know about your friendship with the Simmons?” asked Pike.
“No, not really. I mean, back then, it was Robbie, myself and Camille. We didn’t have many friends here. My dad knew that’s really it.”
“Okay,” Pike nodded. “I think it’s important you keep yourself on the lookout for anything suspicious. Call us for any reason, here is my card,” Pike handed Haylee over his contact information. “maybe something will pop up, some sort of connection you may have overlooked. Please, let us know.”
“Should I be worried?” Haylee’s hand trembled as she held the card.
“Always be worried, never let your guard down,” Velasquez added. “But, again, anything at all, call us. If it’s an emergency, don’t hesitate to dial nine-one-one. Please, always caution on safety. Here, this is my personal cell. I am available day or night. Even just to talk, okay?”
“In fact,” Pike interrupted, zipping up his winter coat to his chin. “If you have somewhere to stay, out-of-town maybe? Until things blow over. That might be good. We can always talk over the phone. You’re not needed here.”
“Okay,” Haylee nodded, placing the card on the coffee table. “Thank you, detective, officer.”
“Take care, we will be in touch,” Pike shook Haylee’s hand and walked out into the freezing morning air alongside his partner.
. . .
“Well?” Velasquez asked. She and Pike made their way to the unmarked black SUV.
“Well?” Pike responded, pulling the car keys from his long black peacoat.
“She seemed spooked, and to put it lightly...not well, in any way,” Velasquez waited for Pike to unlock her passenger side door before settling into the passenger seat.
“Yes,” Pike nodded, turning the ignition. The car roared to life. “I’m sure the news of the murders put her on a downward spiral. When I saw her last, she seemed to be getting ahead of it. I can only imagine what this is doing to her. She has seen some shit, Vanessa, believe you, me.”
“Struck out on a link with our perp, though,” Velasquez frowned.
“I figured,” Pike slowly pulled onto the street from his parked position. “We’re missing something, and until we find that murdering s-o-b, we’re going to be blind. Where on earth is Gary fucking Thom.”
There was a moment of awkward silence. No radio, no small talk. Just the rumbling of the engine, the blinking of the turn signal, and the sound of two people breathing.
“Detective Pike?” Velasquez broke the silence. “Why did you have me come out to the residence with you?”
“What do you mean?” Pike shot back, barley giving it any thought.
“I assume it’s because you and my partner got into the exchange the other day? He’s been pretty hot about it. In fact, he won’t stop going on about it.”
“Clent?” Pike chuckled. “Fuck him, tell him to stop being a snowflake. We got a case to solve. I can’t be worried about offending people. We’re here to find this sick fuck. Right now, it’s all I care about. If Clent wants to man up and talk, we can. I’m not apologizing, though. I’m a good cop that’s seen a lot of bad shit. I don’t need Clent Moore judging me about being more inclusive. I know my job, and I know how to do it. I asked you to go with me because I needed an outside perspective. I wanted fresh eyes with Haylee. Clent and I have a history with her; we were there with her three years ago. So, tell me what you saw back there, in detail. I need fresh eyes.”
“Well, umm…” Vanessa stumbled. She could tell she hit a sore spot with Pike, and now he was quizzing her, deflecting perhaps? She thought for a moment before speaking. “I saw a woman, who we know has a history of abuse, survived a domestic violence attack that killed her sister. From her file, I know she has been through some psychiatric wards as a child and a young woman, recently as just a few years back. Very troubled past, not with the law, but a lot of death surrounding her. She is heavily drinking; it was a quarter to noon, and she had drunk half that bottle of vodka? She smelled of booze, words slurred, delayed responses. She was emotional, yet despite everything, she was coherent and answered seemingly truthful. Although, I doubt she is still seeing her doctor. She seemed intelligent, highly functioning alcoholic. She also seemed to be following the case quite closely.”
“Good,” Pike responded. “What else?”
“I dunno?” Vanessa paused for a second thinking, trying to rack her brain.
“Think,” Pike replied.
“I really don’t know.”
“Haylee said the victims were stabbed from the back, through the neck, did you hear her?” asked Pike.
“You’re right, she did,” Vanessa cocked her head, thinking carefully on the statement.
“That was never leaked to the news, how would she know that?” Pike drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
“Isn’t that what happened to her sister? Attacked from behind with a kitchen knife? Stabbed in the back of the neck.”
“Yes, that is correct,” Pike nodded.
“Do you think she is just mixing the two events together? I mean, this has got to be a very rough position she is in, reliving this,” Vanessa added.
“I’m not sure,” Pike replied. “But I think we need to keep an eye on her.”
TWENTY-ONE
“Well,” Dennis pulled his BMW into the deserted home’s driveway. He drove around back, parking it away from any late-night traffic as best he could with the snowdrifts. There wasn’t much traffic down Orr Rd this late at night, but better safe than sorry. And already he was glad to play it safe, only a few minutes of parking the car behind the home a single vehicle whizzed down the street. It was illegal to be snooping around the private property of the infamous murder house, and the townsfolk are protective of intruders prying around the place. “…here we are.” He set his hand gently on Gary’s knee.
“Wow, this is the place, huh?” Gary clicked on his flashlight, a bright cone of light shown out in front of him. He grabbed Dennis’s hand, enthusiastically. He peered around the outside of Haylee’s former modest house. Her once perfect start-up family home.
“This stuff really interests you, huh?” Dennis laughed. He was a bit older than Gary, roughly twenty years older. He remembered his mid-twenties, looking to go out on adventures, driving through the supposed haunted cemetery just outside of town. Gary was thrilled to see the house. He didn’t mind showing him the place, as long as they didn’t draw any attention. He enjoyed Gary’s time already. He was a smart young man, ambitious. A little nervous when they were intimate, but Dennis liked that.
“It does interest me,” Gary added. “I love this stuff, not the mu
rdering aspect of it, but the supposed haunting of it, if that makes sense.”
“You believe in that stuff?” Dennis opened his car door and exited. It was a cold winter night, with rumors of a severe snowstorm within the next few days, as of now, they had to deal with a record low in temperature. He pulled up his hoodie from his winter jacket and tightened his scarf.
Gary joined him outside of the vehicle, his flashlight scoping out the outside of the home. “—In ghosts? Oh yeah, I run a paranormal group back on the west side of the state. My team would be very jealous knowing I got to visit the home of the Leveille murders.”
“I bet,” Denis chuckled. “Remember, make sure the flashlight stays on this side, we don’t want to draw any attention to us. This is sort of illegal.”
“Right, got yeah,” Gary walked up to one of the windows looking into the kitchen. He had studied the case, how it all went down, the timeline, the whereabouts in the house. When he decided to visit Dennis, he’d ask if it was okay to sneak onto the property. Dennis was reluctant at first but gave in. Gary spent a few nights investigating the reports of the murder house.
“I was friends with them,” Dennis added. “It’s kind of sad for me, you know, being here.”
“Oh,” Gary frowned. He hadn’t thought of that when he asked if it was okay to scope the place out. “I didn’t realize you were close to them?”
“Close?” Dennis pondered the question. “My wife was closer to them than me. I met the fiancé a few times. We had dinner together. I never met the sister. My wife, Nora, she was pretty close to Haylee for the little amount of time they lived here. Haylee...she was a pleasant young woman.”
“This isn’t offending to you? That we’re here?” Gary frowned. He assumed they hadn’t known each other well due to the distance of the homes.
“No, it’s fine, I can tell you a little bit about them if you want,” Dennis added. This would be a good way for the two of them to bond. Get to know one another without Nora around, and not just in a sexual way.
“I know a bit, at least with what they think happened,” Gary peered back into the window leading into the kitchen.
“What have you heard?” asked Dennis.
“Well, this is the kitchen. I read that Haylee had been dealing with some mental health issues? Robbie had been acting out in aggression with Haylee, that she had mentioned to friends and family that they had been dealing with ongoing issues with their relationship. That right here, near the basement stairs, is where Robbie took a kitchen knife when Kaylee was out of town and ambushed Camille. I read the autopsy report, they said he stabbed her in the back of the neck, and she fell down the stairs right there,” Gary pointed to the closed door of the basement. “I saw drawings of the home; they filmed an episode of it on Spurned Lovers on the crime channel. They think Robbie wanted Camille, who rejected him and was going to kill Haylee when she got back home. Anger and lust drove him mad.”
“That’s sort of the story we got too,” Dennis frowned. It was cold; his fingers and toes began to sting. “Really sad place here, I usually don’t even drive past it. Hurts to know the pain in those walls.”
“Why did he eat her, though?” Gary shook his head with disgust. “Like, how gross is that?”
“He snapped? I don’t know. Don’t like thinking about it,” Dennis added.
“Then Haylee came home, right? Earlier than expected?” asked Gary.
“Yeah, they say she turned around due to a storm. She walked in, heard a strange noise from the basement, and found her sister’s dead body. Robbie, on top of her, you know...doing all that sick stuff. He chased after her.”
“I read she was good with a gun, her dad was a cop,” Gray added.
“Self-defense. Shot him at the foot of the stairs, he fell back down. Police found her cradling her sisters’ body. I guess she went mute for a while. I haven’t seen or talked to her since it happened,” Dennis added. “Such a tragedy...she still lives in town; heard she doesn’t get out much. I tried to call her a few times. She never returned my calls.”
“I thought you weren’t close?” asked Gary.
“Close enough, my wife and I worried about her.”
“I hear the place is haunted by spirits. They say something may have possessed Robbie, drove him mad,” Gary explained. “Scary thought, though, huh? Even if you don’t believe it? How can a person live a normal life, and then just turn like that, into a madman? Doesn’t seem right, does it?”
“Yeah. I don’t think we’re supposed to know or understand how people turn like that, I don’t like thinking about it,” Dennis gave a nervous chuckle.
“Yeah?” Gary frowned, Dennis was right. This place was dark. There was negative energy pulsating from the home, the tension in the walls, the eeriness of the empty rooms.
“Listen, feel free to scope the place out, it’s freezing, I’m going to warm up in the car. The place is locked up, so please don’t break-in. I will be waiting for when you are ready, cool?”
“Okay, yeah!” Gary smiled. It was definitely cold outside, but Gary wanted to spend a little more time with the home. He dimmed the flashlight, a small Maglite he often carried on ghost hunting outings. It was small, dependable. He stared at the kitchen, his mind flooding with the horrors that stained the walls, the floor. Rumors of the sister’s ghost haunting the home have been rampant. They say you can hear her screaming, falling down the stairs.
Gary took the side of the house slowly, his hand pressed up against its cold siding. To the right about ten feet down near the back of the home, was a second window. He stood on his tiptoes, looking into an empty bedroom. Vacant, lifeless, eerily quiet. He wondered who slept there. Haylee and Robbie? Maybe Camille. He wagered it was the master bedroom.
He wished he could get inside, look around. He wanted to see the basement where the murders happened. It was late, dark, freezing, the Michigan fields, the vast forest behind the home, all was quiet.
Until it wasn’t.
Gary stood at the side of the home, near the back of the house, where it sat facing the forest a few yards back. He heard the most peculiar noise. Almost like a loud purring, from a large cat or perhaps what he thought a rattlesnake might sound like when aggravated. Except, it was a deep sound, almost guttural.
It was a strange sound, nothing he’d ever heard before.
“What the hell?” Gary spoke to no one, his breath forming clouds into the night sky. He hadn’t expected to hear anything except save for a few random cars driving by. He decided to investigate, brightened his flashlight. He was far enough behind the property, unworried about a passerby.
He made his way around the corner. There was a double wooden cellar door that rattled as if something had just entered through its frame. It startled him, he jumped back, dropped his flashlight. “Shit,” he almost shouted—his heart racing.
What the hell was that? Did something just climb into the cellar? Gary’s mind raced. Should he go back and get Dennis? Should he check it out? Dennis asked him not to break into the home, but that was definitely weird.
Gary mustered up his courage, taking a deep breath himself. He walked closer to the cellar door. It was thick wood, double-wide. He centered the flashlight on the broken lock, looked as if it was ripped from the wood hinges. About three feet on the frozen grass was the broken lock, crushed to pieces.
“What is going on?” Gary kneeled to examine the thick wooden doors closer. That’s when he heard it again, louder, it was almost mesmerizing. The rattling noise, the deep guttural purring, was calling out to him. The sound was—what was it? Gary couldn’t think straight; the noise was muddling his thoughts. So soft, elegant, all-encompassing. He had to know what was making such beautiful noise. The hair on his sk
in stood upright, egging him on. He lifted the heavy door, slowly made his way down the steps into the basement. This would have been a back exit into the home. Gary assumed it would have remained locked at all times. Easy access into the house otherwise.
The purring, the rattling, it was persistent. He kept his light focused ahead of him, entered the main basement section. The noise came from the corner to his right. He slowly aimed the light towards the sound, and there, in the corner, it sat, hunched over, staring at him.
An abomination.
“My god…” Gary’s mouth dropped.
TWENTY-TWO
Haylee sat on the foot of her bed. The bed she rarely slept in, still impeccably made. A small fleece blanket that normally decorated the bedspread was wrapped around her shoulders. She preferred the couch, near the television, in the center of her home where she could see the front and back doors easily. She felt trapped in her bedroom, no easy exit in case something happened, except one lone window, which wasn’t easy to escape in case of an intruder. The room was mostly bare, minus a dresser that was her mothers and a vanity mirror.
The appearance of Detective Pike and Officer Velasquez shook her. She sobbed, wept hard and ugly, the empty bottle of Seagram’s sat beside her on the bed. A picture of her mother framed sat on the other side. She drank the bottle down fast after they had left. She passed out on the bed, soon after polishing off the alcohol. It brought back a flood of memories of that night when Robbie went mad and the following days of mental anguish. She tried hard not to think of that time in her life, to erase Robbie from her memory, to forget about the last week of Camille’s life. Then Detective Pike showed up, opened a flood gate of pain. So many raw emotions and memories washed over her.
Haylee awakened in a puddle of sweat a few hours after passing out. Her shirt drenched. It was late in the evening now, closing at six pm. She had nightmares again. She hadn’t meant to drink so much she would pass out. Yet, she did. She was lucky. This time the creature didn’t stalk her dreams. Instead, this was more visionary, flashes of puzzle pieces she couldn’t quite put together. She hadn’t dreamt it before, or had she?