Kenhardt - Secrets 14

Kiera’s room was next. At least Patrick and Vivian Barnes gave him some space while he searched. There, he was actually able to manoeuvre a bit better, sleuth with more emphasis. Joe repeated the same routine he had executed in Haddie’s room. He went through Kiera’s drawers, searched the bottom of her closet, checked behind the books on her bookshelf. And when he felt something thin and rectangular hidden behind the books, his heart leapt in his chest. He grasped it with his fingers and pulled, revealing a little pink diary. Of course, it had a lock on it. Joe quickly scrambled around the room, looking for a tiny key to fit the tiny lock. When he came up empty handed, he poked his head outside the door, ensuring the Barnes weren’t hovering, then smashed the tiny lock as hard as he could with the stapler that sat at her desk. It opened wilfully. She won’t be around to wonder what happened to it, he reasoned with himself. Part of him felt guilty for invading a teenage girls’ diary. As though he were entering her private space - the deepest, most intimate parts of her mind. This is where she spilled all of her secrets. The things she loved, the things she hated, boys she crushed on, teachers she despised, plans for the future. It made Joe wonder if he would ever be doing this again someday, perhaps to his own daughter. Did Jordan want kids? They’d talked about it briefly once or twice. Jordan knew not to bring up the topic of children, especially after Luka and Olivia. But he needed to move on. It had been three years. He had been with Jordan nearly two. He was thirty - one years old. She was twenty - eight. They’d have to think about children soon if that was in their foreseeable future. He would need to move on with his life, get married, and start a family once and for all. And if he was blessed with a daughter, then maybe this really would be him in the next fifteen years, snooping through her room, reading her diary. He stopped flipping through the pages when he saw a name that he recognized. At first he thought it might have been out of context. Perhaps Kiera was referring to Haddie and her life at some point. But Haddie’s name was nowhere on the page. He flipped forwards, backwards, trying to gain a sense of navigation through this crazy, vast diary. Perhaps he had bee mistaken. But he was not mistaken. From that page on nearly every single entry was about the same person. That same name, reappearing over and over again. Oliver Harris. Joe sat in front of him, watching as he fumbled with the water bottle he held between his palms. His dark brown hair was shagged over to one side, his eyes facing downwards. When he finally looked up and made eye contact, Joe wondered just how many other secrets this kid was hiding. ‘Anything you’d like to tell me?’ Joe said. ‘What do you mean?’ Oliver placed the water bottle back on the table. Joe stared at him defiantly. ‘Regarding this case. Haddie, Anya and Kiera. Apparently people around here are quiet good at keeping secrets.’ Oliver furrowed his eyebrows. ‘Look, I don’t know what you want me to say …’ ‘How about the truth?’ Joe said. There were so many things he needed to know, about the baby, about Haddie, and now, apparently Kiera. ‘The truth?’ Oliver said, then sat back in his chair. He picked up the bottle again, looking down at his hands that rested on the table. ‘Isn’t that a loaded question.’ ‘I don’t believe so.’ ‘Isn’t the truth just our perception of what we believe?’ Joe thought about this. ‘The truth isn’t an experience, altered from person to person. It’s a fact, Oliver. Why Don’t we start there --- with the facts?’ Oliver looked up at him. ‘Did you know?’ Joe asked. ‘Did I know what?’ ‘About the baby?’ ‘What baby?’ It was quiet again, a shift in the atmosphere. Perhaps it was just Joe who felt the shift. He had just inadvertently revealed personal information about the deceased, Haddie Taylor. Haddie Anne Renee Daisy Taylor. Who covered her room in hearts. Who would have been Matric Farewell Queen. Who was adored by practically everyone. Who was adored by practically everyone. Who was four weeks pregnant when she died. ‘What are you talking about?’ Oliver sat up straighter, giving Joe a look of utter confusion. Joe cleared his throat. ‘Tell me about Kiera Barnes.’ ‘What Baby!!?’ Oliver said again. Fuck. ‘She was pregnant, Oliver, Haddie was pregnant.’ He watched as Oliver’s eyes widened, his mouth falling open slightly. He leaned back in his chair, slowly bringing his hand to his forehead. Joe allowed him a few moments of silence. He allowed this boy - this sixteen - year old boy whose girlfriend had just died, whose life had just been changed forever - to process this information. Then Joe spoke. ‘So, I’m assuming you didn’t know.’ Oliver’s eyes snapped forward, landing on Joe’s. ‘Of course I didn’t know. How do you know?’ ‘The coroner.’ ‘Holy Fuck,’ Oliver muttered to himself. ‘She was only four weeks. She may not have even known herself yet.’ Oliver was quiet again. ‘Oliver?’ Joe said. No response. ‘Ollie?’ ‘Yeah?’ he said, looking up. ‘What are you thinking?’ Oliver was quiet for a moment before he spoke. ‘This is bad. So bad.’ ‘I know…‘No,’ Oliver interjected. He looked at Joe, holding his gaze. ‘That baby wasn’t mine.’ Joe stood outside of Anya Wilson’s house. He needed to go inside, tell John and Pamela that he needed to have a look around her bedroom. He had already searched through both Haddie and Kiera’s, now all that left was Anya, But unlike the other two, Anya had two bedrooms he would need to search. Joe paced the sidewalk, his conversation Oliver playing on a loop through his head. ‘What do you mean the baby wasn’t yours?’ Joe had asked, perplexed. ‘How would you know that?’ ‘Because,’ Oliver said. ‘I just …do.’ Joe nodded his head in silence. ‘Because you and Haddie …you weren’t …’ ‘Not anymore. Not really.’ ‘Things weren’t good between the two of you?’ ‘It’s complicated.’ ‘I’m a detective. I do complicated for a living.’ Oliver sighed, leaning forwards and placing his hands on the table in front of him…’I suspected that Haddie was cheating on me, back in February. We’d been together for a year and a half then, and things were starting to change. Not drastically or anything, not enough for anyone to really pick up on, but I could tell. She was growing distant, acting weird.’ ‘How so?’ He shrugged. ‘It’s hard to explain. She just wasn’t the same Haddie. And so I thought that there must be someone else.’ ‘Did you ever see her with anyone else?’ ‘No.’ ‘Then why would you think that?’ ‘Just the way she was acting with me. Like she didn’t care anymore. As though her time was being occupied elsewhere. With someone more important than me.’ ‘And she never said anything? Anything that would indicate she was cheating on you?’ ‘She didn’t have to say anything. I’ve known that girl my whole life. I just knew.’ Joe stared at him for a moment. ‘When did you start seeing Keira Barnes?’ ‘What?’ ‘Don’t try to lie your way out of this one. I want the truth, that’s all.’ Oliver was quiet. ‘I guess it must have been March. Mid - March, maybe?’ ‘So almost three months ago.’ ‘Yeah. I don’t know. We just kind of --- you know.’ ‘I get it. Your girlfriend’s gone AWOL. You think she’s cheating on you. So you start seeing her best friend,’ ‘No, it wasn’t like that,’ Oliver insisted. ‘God, that makes me sound like a horrible person. I didn’t just choose Kiera on purpose. We were always together, you know? With Haddie and Anya, and sometimes the others. We’d all hangout. Kiera and I got close. Especially when Haddie started going off, doing her own thing.’ ‘And so you just assumed she was cheating on you although you had no confirmation of this.’ ‘I do now.’ ‘Because of the pregnancy,’ Oliver nodded. ‘I’m sorry,’ Joe said. ‘This must be tough for you.’ ‘It is. I loved her. I really did. Despite everything. She was my first love. Nothing can ever compare to that.’ Now Joe was filled with more questions. Was Haddie aware that her boyfriend and best friend were having a Secret Love - Affair? Did Haddie know about the baby? Who was Haddie cheating on Oliver with? And lastly: was that enough motive for Oliver to kill Haddie? Joe was distracted from his thoughts when an elderly man materialized on the sidewalk in front of him, waving a hand in front of Joe’s face as if to wake him from his evident daydream. The man looked to be about sixty, early seventies. He was wearing a plaid shirt and a Fedora. ‘Good afternoon,’ the man said once Joe’s attention was on him. Joe was momentarily stunned. ‘Hi.’ ‘Walter Fitzgerald,’ The man stuck out his hand. ‘Detective O’Reily,’ Joe said, meeting his grasp. ‘Can I help you with something, Mr Fitzgerald?’ ‘I couldn’t help notice you just standing out here. What in God’s name are you doing son?’ Joe wondered how long he had been standing out there. And how that might look to other people. ‘I’m investigating the murder’s at St Paul’s,’ Joe said. ‘Murder now, is it?’ Walter said. ‘I didn’t know if it was suicide or homicide or whatever the hell else ends in cide.’ Joe hadn’t meant to say murder - the conclusion was still undetermined. ‘Apologizes, it’s still unclear as to what happened.’ ‘You a detective, eh?’ Joe nodded. ‘From Riverton.’ ‘Riverton!’ Walter said enthusiastically, but slow, annunciating each syllable. ‘What’s Riverton doing sending their detectives down her to Kenhardt?’ ‘The case,’ Joe said. ‘Not many deaths happen around here. Well, undetermined deaths, that is.’ ‘That’s for sure,’ Walter said. ‘We aint seen no murders like that since the Sad Killer.’ Joe’s attention was grabbed. ‘So I’ve heard. What can you tell me about that?’ Walter seemed pleased to have the invitation to speak more. ‘OH, Boy, The Sad Summer. What a summer that was.’ ‘One of the officer’s working the case mentioned it yesterday. Said the guy killed seven people that year? Was never caught?’ Walter nodded his head. ‘Sure bet. The summer of ‘65. I’ll never forget that year. I was nineteen. Got my first car that spring. Was dating this beautiful girl. Wendy, her name was. Yeah, then the first murder happened. Musta been April, I believe. Or May. Anyway, it was a hot one, that summer. Everyone calls it The Sad Summer. Because of The Sad Killer. That’s what we called him. Because he wrote that at each of the crime scenes. SAD, ain’t it?’ Joe nodded. ‘But kind of unsettling.’ Walter continued. ‘Why write Sad? Did it make him sad?’ ‘He knew the investigators would see it,’ Joe explained. ‘So he most likely left it on purpose. A signature of sorts.’ ‘Makes sense,’ Walter said, thinking this through. ‘The last body was found in July or August. It must have been a seasonal thing - the murders, that is. Because once fall rolled around, the body count ceased. Everyone was waitin’, frightened for their lives that they would be next. But nobody else died. The Sad Killer had ended his reign. And no one has heard from him since.’ ‘That’s interesting.’ Joe said, watching Walter intently, curiosity getting the best of him. ‘Did you ever have any suspicions of who it might have been? Anyone you knew, Maybe? Kenhardt is a small town, after all.’ ‘Oh, hell, course I did! Everyone had their theories. Nobody ever done proved it though.’ ‘The population must have been, what, two thousand back then?’ Joe asked. ‘Something like that.’ ‘So not a lot of people to choose from,’ Joe thought to himself. ‘One killer, seven bodies. And no one ever found out who he was.’ Walter laughed. ‘That bothers you, dunn’t, Son?’ Joe smiled involuntarily. ‘Just slightly, It bothers me when crimes don’t get solved. It’s a Pet peeve of mine. So now this will bug me.’ Walter laughed again. ‘Hey, maybe while you’re in Kenhardt, you’ll crack the case once and for all.’ Don’t give me any ideas, Joe thought to himself….