Chapter 2 #2
“I was telling Sheriff Cruz and Ms. Brent. For half my life, I didn’t even know Ellie Luke existed. I thought my mom was an only child.”
“Your mom,” Gus said. “Your mom is Erin Luke?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Go on.”
“I was always told not to bring it up. My dad would say it made my mom too sad. My mom would say the same thing about her parents. You just don’t talk about Ellie.
It’s too painful. Too hard. I just have so many questions.
What happened? Why couldn’t you find out who killed her?
Who was she? So finally, a few months ago, I started looking for answers online.
It didn’t take long before I stumbled on this forum.
All these people, amateur sleuths. They had sub-forums talking about different unsolved murders in the state.
I found one dedicated to my aunt. It was so strange.
Strangers knew more about her than I did. ”
“What was the name of the forum?” Gus asked.
“CCTS. Cold Case Truth Sleuths. I will admit. I got a little obsessed. But it felt like it was the only way I could talk about my aunt. It felt like these people cared more about her and what happened to her than her own family did. I know that’s not fair.
I know it’s just painful for my mom and grandparents.
This thing ripped them all apart. And it answered so many questions about how they are.
Why my grandma has been so sad. Why she stares off into space sometimes and won’t talk.
Why my grandpa ended up in AA. Why my mom is such a people pleaser and so nervous all the time. ”
“That had to be really hard to grow up around,” I said. “It’s natural you would have questions.”
“But they had answers. The people on CCTS. They knew everything about Ellie. That she was a nursing student. She worked nights doing home health care. She had friends. Got straight As. Was a cheerleader. They knew the details of her murder. How she was found months later, nothing but bones. How she was posed under a tree. Morbid stuff. Some of these online sleuths had pictures of my family I’d never seen before. ”
“What kind of pictures?” Gus asked.
“Yearbook photos. But also all these candid shots of my aunt with her friends. It was this one in particular that just … got me. I felt hollowed out when I saw it.”
Hayden reached into her satchel and pulled out an 8x10 grainy picture reprinted from the internet.
I recognized Ellie Luke at the center of it from the photo I’d found online after that ten-second search.
Ellie was pretty. Thick, long dark hair and ice-blue eyes.
She had a stunner of a smile with dimples in her cheeks.
She looked fun. Young. Full of energy. She sat with a group of friends, a mixture of men and women.
“Why this picture?” Sam asked, leaning in close to see it.
“Because of him,” Hayden said, tapping the face of a skinny blond guy sitting next to Ellie.
“Who is he?” I asked.
“Jamie Simmons,” Hayden answered.
“I’m not sure I follow,” Sam said.
“Then you’re having the same reaction I am,” Hayden said.
“Confusion. See, I’ve talked to my dad and my mom so many times since I found out about Aunt Ellie.
Mom would only talk about things that happened when they were growing up.
Never about the murder itself. Which was understandable.
And my dad would just kind of support her.
Tell me how tough it had all been on Mom.
He never ever told me that he knew Ellie.
That they were friends. That’s how he met my mom in the first place. ”
“Your Aunt Ellie introduced them?” I asked.
“No,” she said. “That’s what was so wrong about all of it. I found this stuff out from strangers online. My dad was a classmate of Aunt Ellie’s. They were in nursing school together. They hung out. They were close. I never knew that.”
“You think your dad killed Ellie Luke?” Sam asked.
“No,” she said. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I know it.”
Gus looked like he was about to erupt. He grabbed the photo and put on his readers. “I don’t see him anywhere in this picture,” he muttered. I’m not even sure if he meant for the rest of us to hear it.
“See who?” Sam asked.
“Who the hell is your dad, Hayden?” Gus asked.
“Jamie Simmons,” she said, growing exasperated.
Gus took off his glasses and squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“Walk me through it, honey,” Gus asked.
“He has a workshop in the basement,” Hayden said, her tone filled with distress.
“I never go down there. He gets single-minded. He works on these models. Ships in bottles. I always know when he’s upset or angry.
Because he’ll go down there for hours. But it just all kind of built up.
Two weeks ago, I went down there. I wanted to talk to him about Ellie.
I couldn’t find him at first. He wasn’t at the bench.
Our house is older. There’s this room off to the side that used to be a coal bin in the 1930s or something.
He was there. The door was cracked and I could see the light on.
He was sitting on a stool and he had this box in his hands.
I was going to knock. I tripped over a pair of shoes near the boiler.
He heard me. He shoved the box under these blankets and he came out.
He was enraged. Accusing me of spying on him.
Just … completely flipped out. I’d never seen him like that. ”
Hayden reached down and lifted her satchel onto the table. She rested her hands on top of it.
“My dad didn’t finish nursing school. Instead, he works at the hospital as a respiratory therapist. He’s been on midnights for the last month.
Last week, I went down to the basement. My mom took this trip to Shipshewana with some friends.
It was just me alone in the house. I don’t know if that’s ever happened before.
I don’t know what made me go back down there. But I knew. I just knew.”
She slid a large cardboard box out of her bag. It had a pink lid and flowers painted on the sides.
“I found this,” she said. “I didn’t want to believe it. But I think on some level, maybe I’ve always known.”
Hayden Simmons rose to her feet. She lifted the lid off the box. At once, Sam, Gus, and I leaned in, our foreheads practically touching each other’s.
Gus spoke first. “Son of a bitch!” The shock of it overcame him. He reached out. I grabbed his wrist.
“Stop,” I said. “Don’t. Just freeze. Don’t touch it. Hayden, for the love of God, please close that back up.”