“Thank you, Tika. The horrific site of Daniel Hawthorn’s houseboat this evening startled police officers. This investigative reporter obtained exclusive footage from inside the carnage. Warning, this segment is not for our younger viewers.”
Blayne turned to look at the television when he heard the reporter’s announcement about the live footage.When did news agencies become so depraved?The image on the screen was clearly taken by someone’s cell phone. The person with the camera was going down a short flight of stairs. The image panned left at the bottom of the stairs, and Blayne could see a female lying on the floor. Blayne was glad the film wasn’t great quality because he really didn’t want to see the reality of murder. The camera panned right. A pair of legs stuck out of a doorway. The cameraman walked toward the body. The screen filled with the image of a handsome guy, probably in his mid-twenties, with a bullet hole in his forehead. As the face was in view, someone pulled a white sheet over the victim’s head.How do they get away with showing this crap on TV?
“Stephen, those images are truly devastating. It looks like this is some kind of assassination. Have the police said anything yet?” Tika asked.
“Tika, ten minutes ago, an unnamed source from inside the New Orleans Police Department—NOPD—gave me crucial information about the case. In their investigation, the victims were not dating like was originally suspected. Instead, various articles in the house leave the NOPD to think Daniel Hawthorn was probably a homosexual,” Stephen said with a slight grin on his face.
“Stephen, what kinds ofarticleswere found in the houseboat? Can you give us any further details?”
“From what my exclusive sources tell me, some sexual paraphernalia and unsigned love letters were found in the houseboat. My sources say the police are currently following four potential lines of investigation. First, Hawthorne was gay and was killed by some kind of jealous lover, and Dunning was killed because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Second, Hawthorne and Dunning were having an affair and were killed by his ex-lover. Third, this was a ménage à trois gone very wrong. And, fourth, this is some kind of premeditated hate crime.”
“Stephen, the police sure look like they have their work cut out for them on this case.”
Click.Blayne hated it when the media got on some kind of gay kick. It never ceased to amaze Blayne how murder became even more scandalous when it involved a gay man. Heck, it was even better if it was a gay man who had killed another gay man. To Blayne, a crime was simply a crime. It didn’t matter if the crime was perpetrated as an act of bias-related hate. It was a crime. In theory, Blayne thought the idea of hate crime laws was ridiculous. To classify certain crimes as being more severe because of one’s thought process seemed like thought police. A murderer was still a murderer. It doesn’t matter if he was gay, straight, Black, Hispanic, White, Asian— They were a murderer. Although this perspective was philosophically sound, Blayne also realized lady justice had only one eye peeking in today’s world. When teenagers could kidnap, beat a gay kid and carve the word ‘fag’ into his chest and only get suspended from high school for a couple of days, injustice obviously existed. So, on hate crimes laws, Blayne realized they had to exist because the courts and public often could not be trusted to dole out justice.
Blayne finished doing his dishes and decided he had enough television for the day, so he checked his email and dating apps before calling it a night. Blayne had the newest computer model released earlier that semester by Harvester Electronics. For thirty years, Blayne’s father had worked at Harvester designing software. The Harvester X-Forty-Eight contained the latest Internet protocols and protection software on the market. It was allegedly the only system that could break into an X-Forty-Eight was the FBI’s carnivore system, which kept tabs on profiles and secure information on the Internet. He also set up the system to mirror his smartphone apps on his desktop to make life a bit more seamless.
Blayne sat down in his high-back-office chair and leaned back as he clicked his mouse and opened his personal email account. He had an email from his mother reminding him he needed to let her know about his plans for Christmas. He wrote back to her.
Mom,
It’s September. I have plenty of time to decide.
Love,
Blayne
He then read an email from his best friend, Kira. Kira was a lawyer, and she’d been in Boston working on a case for her firm. Thankfully, she would be back in Pennington the next day, which made Blayne excited because he was lonely without her.
After checking his personal email, he switched to his school email account. He quickly responded to several student questions about their outlines that were due the next day. Most of the questions could be answered if the students would read the damn syllabus, but he refrained from typing this.
With his work-life taken care of, he opened a dating app he’d been using for a while calledEndZone, whose slogan was “Because I’m Worth Dating!” Blayne wasn’t looking to date anyone, but he’d met a few nice guys he’d corresponded with off and on. He immediately saw a message from a guy he’d been corresponding with for about six months named Roy or0Time4Fun. Blayne liked Roy almost immediately because they were both career driven. Roy had never quite told Blayne what his day job was, but he could tell it kept him constantly busy and on the move.
Hey B.
Had to write to you real fast. I’ve had the crappiest day of my life. I wish I could go into details, but frankly, I don’t even have them yet. Someone very close to me died today, and I had to find out publicly. I wish I was there with you. I feel trapped in my job right now. No one has a clue what’s going on with me. Heck, no one I work with knows I’m gay. I feel like I’m at the end of my rope, and I’m about to get hung. I know this is probably way too much to dump on you right now, B, but I don’t have anyone else to talk to.
Roy
Blayne took a deep breath after finishing Roy’s email, only now realizing he had stopped breathing while reading. After six months, Blayne knew Roy was gay, he had been dating someone and he was a total closet case. Beyond that, Blayne didn’t know where Roy lived, he didn’t know Roy’s boyfriend’s name and he didn’t know what Roy actually did in life.
Blayne had messaged Roy initially because he’d mentioned musical theater in his profile. Blayne was a total theater geek. People often asked him if he wanted to be on stage, but Blayne knew his talents in life were not acting, singing or dancing. So, even though Roy didn’t even have a face pic online, Blayne had messaged him and the two had become fast friends. When Blayne had asked about the lack of a face pic, Roy said his job was public, and he didn’t feel comfortable with his face out there on the Internet.
Despite this lack of personal information, Blayne felt he knew Roy. He didn’t realize the superficial information, but he knew Roy’s soul on a deeper level than he knew anyone. There was something about Roy’s defenselessness that worried Blayne. He knew Roy wouldn’t kill himself—they’d already had that discussion. But Blayne was surprised by the urgent tone of the message. Blayne typed back.
Roy,
I don’t know what’s going on, but you concern me. Are you okay? Please let me know if there is anything I can do for you. You’re in my thoughts and prayers.
Always your friend,
Blayne
* * * *
Ethan
Ethan picked up his phone, which had been charging. He immediately noticed the half-dozen missed calls and messages from Stephanie.
