When David Died: A True Story
John Locke
When David Died
A True Story
By
John Locke
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events or locales is entirely coincidental.
This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you are reading this eBook and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return it and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.
WHEN DAVID DIED
Copyright © 2016 John Locke. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical without the express written permission of the author. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the author or publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage electronic piracy of copyrighted materials.
The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
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Published by John Locke Books, LLC
Visit the author’s website:
http://www.donovancreed.com
ISBN 978-1-937656-03-4 (eBook)
ISBN 978-1-937656-04-1 (paperback)
Version 2016.08.13
John Locke
New York Times Best Selling Author
Guinness World Record Holder for eBook Sales!
8th Member of the Kindle Million Sales Club!
(Members include James Patterson, George R.R. Martin, and Lee Child)
John Locke had 4 of the top 10 eBooks on
Amazon/Kindle at the same time, including #1 and #2!
…Had 6 of the top 20 books at the same time!
…Had 8 books in the top 43 at the same time!
…Has written 30 books in five years in six separate genres,
All best-sellers!
…Has been published throughout the world in numerous languages
by the world’s most prestigious publishing houses!
…Winner, Second Act Magazine’s Story of the Year!
…Named by Time Magazine as one of the “Stars of the DIY-Publishing Era”
Wall Street Journal: “John Locke (is) transforming the ‘book’ business”
Donovan Creed Series:
Lethal People
Lethal Experiment
Saving Rachel
Now & Then
Wish List
A Girl Like You
Vegas Moon
The Love You Crave
Maybe
Callie’s Last Dance
Because We Can!
This Means War!
Emmett Love Series:
Follow the Stone
Don’t Poke the Bear!
Emmett & Gentry
Goodbye, Enorma
Rag Soup
Spider Rain
Dani Ripper Series:
Call Me!
Promise You Won’t Tell?
Teacher, Teacher
Don’t Tell Presley!
Abbey Rayne
Dr. Gideon Box Series:
Bad Doctor
Box
Outside the Box
Boxed In!
Other:
Kill Jill
Casting Call
When David Died
Kindle Worlds:
A Kiss for Luck (Kindle Only)
Non-Fiction:
How I Sold 1 Million eBooks in 5 Months!
Dedication:
To all the independent authors in the world
who deserve to be read:
You’re the true champions!
Keep fighting the fight,
and don’t let anyone steal your dream!
When David Died
A True Story
Table of Contents
Very Important: Please read!
Forward
Part One: Nicki Hill
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
Part Two: Michael, Jessie, and Alison
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
Part Three: David Thorne
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
Part Four: Nicki Hill
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Author’s Note:
Very Important: Please read!
You may have noticed the title page states: “This book is a work of fiction.”
I thought long and hard about removing that tag, but finally deferred to the advice of my attorneys after one of the participants depicted in this book threatened a seven-figure lawsuit to stop publication. While I’m not the least bit concerned about losing the case, the courts could have tied up my manuscript for years, during which time some other writer or reporter might be the one to bring the story to the public. So while it annoys the shit out of me to not officially tag this book as non-fiction, I realize my attorneys are simply doing their jobs, trying to protect me, and I’d be a fool not to follow their legal advice.
When movies include the tagline Based on a True Story it usually means two things: there is a true story, and this isn’t it! But I’m writing books, not screenplays, and therefore have more opportunities, more space, to make certain the account is supremely accurate.
Even so, this story isn’t 100% true. Although the police detectives’ notes, interviews, and final report are a matter of public record, the names and settings are fictitious and the internal and external dialogues of the characters are my best attempt (based on interviews and source material) to recreate what I believe was thought and said by them at the time.
My attorneys have further advised me to point out that certain portions of the narrative rely on a series of in-person interviews I may or may not have paid for that were conducted with the major player in this story, aka Nicki Hill.
To date, surprisingly, no one has been arrested for any actions depicted within these pages.
Forward
We all have secrets. Big ones, small ones, life-changing ones.
They say knowledge is power. But I say if you really want to destroy people, do two things: learn their secrets, and exploit them.
Part One:
N
icki Hill
1.
MID NOVEMBER
Wednesday
5:50 p.m.
IF YOU’RE THE cute couple that just entered the Hurstbourne Starbucks you’re watching Michael and me laughing our asses off. We’ve been talking about something he read on the Internet about how to make his kitchen smell great. “Heat the oven to 300,” he said, “put two capfuls of vanilla extract in an oven-proof bowl, cook it for 30 minutes.”
“Doesn’t work,” I said.
“You tried it?”
“Yup. And believe me—Wait. Did you say two cap fulls?”
He nodded.
“Oops. I thought it was two cup fulls! No wonder for six weeks my house smelled like the Pillsbury Dough Boy’s butthole!”
It wasn’t original, but we laughed ourselves stupid anyway, because laughter always hitchhikes with happiness, and our relationship is currently in a good place. He’s happy I’m back; I’m happy my life’s on track. It took the better part of a year, but…my future finally appears secure, and even—if I’m not getting ahead of myself—limitless.
Three months ago the handsome man sitting across from me—twenty-one-year-old Michael Thorne—asked me to marry him.
It’s not what you think: I said no. Then I broke up with him, moved out, and now I’m back and we’re no longer talking about marriage or having kids, which is what broke us up in the first place. Back in those days (three months ago) Michael was confused: “You said family’s the most important thing in the world!”
“It is,” I said.
“Then what’s changed?”
“Nothing. I just don’t want to have children.”
“Are you saying you want to adopt?”
“No.”
“Then what the fuck are you saying, Nicki?”
It went like that for a while, and then I moved out. Then I talked to his mom, Alison, and his sister, Jessie, and then I talked to his dad, David.
And now I’m back.
Here’s what we worked out: I agreed to let him tell people we’re engaged, and he agreed not to ask me about setting a wedding date. From my perspective, this took the pressure off the relationship, and we’re getting along famously, and it’s a Wednesday evening, and we’re sitting in a coffee shop, and his phone’s ringing.
He checks caller ID and sighs. “It’s Mom.”
I stand. “Tell her I love her.”
He grins. “Will do. Where are you going?”
I point to the counter. “Cranberry scone. Want one?”
“Vanilla,” he says, and I walk to the counter and get in line behind two teenagers who can’t decide between the Caramel Waffle Cone Créme Frappuccino Blended Créme and the Double Chocolaty Chip Créme Frappuccino Blended Créme.
They’re happy, I’m happy, we’re all happy.
I’ve been through a lot. Come so freaking far. Persevered. Am I proud of everything I did to get to this point?
Of course not.
Then again, courtships are tough, and what woman hasn’t said or done things she wouldn’t brag about while trying to secure her future happiness? Maybe she omitted certain details about her past, like her drug history, her ex-lovers, or the fact she’s actually two years older than her fiancée. Maybe she didn’t want sex or wasn’t ready for it but gave herself to him anyway, to keep from losing him. Maybe she exaggerated her feelings for him because she never had a family and fell in love with his. Or maybe she broke up with him knowing it would make him crazy for her, knowing if she gave him another chance he’d be so glad to have her back he’d stop talking about having kids.
The sudden noise behind me is like something out of a horror film. I turn to see Michael standing, shaking, sobbing. I bolt to his side, shouting, “Michael! What on earth?”
“My father’s dead.”
“What?”
“He hanged himself.”
The room starts spinning. I grab my stomach, fight to keep from vomiting. “Omigod! Omigod! Oh no!”
He sits beside me, grabs me and holds on for dear life, and we rock back and forth and sob together on the floor, completely ignoring the manager and customers surrounding us, who ask if there’s something they can do. We’ve gone from top of the world to the depths of despair in seconds and the one thing I know with absolute certainty is things will never be the same. All the plans and sacrifices I’ve made have just gone up in flames. And yet…as I think about it, I wonder if there might yet be a silver lining.
Over the next two hours we’re in a slow-motion fog. I literally can’t remember getting to our feet, leaving the coffee shop, walking back to Michael’s apartment. Even now, we’re in a daze: packing clothes, stopping to cry, calling our bosses, stopping to cry, calling his mom, calling his sister, stopping to cry. Now, standing at the threshold of his bedroom, bags in hand, we take a moment to look at the clothes strewn throughout the room.
“You have everything you need?” he says.
“Yes.”
“Okay then, we should get going. Mom and Jess need us.”
I nod, knowing the next few hours and days will be extremely difficult. Over the past year I’ve grown extremely close to Michael’s family, and while I want to be all in for them, my mind’s going a thousand miles an hour, fighting the urge to bail. Because if David left a suicide note…
Michael doesn’t know, because other than the means of death, Alison refused to give any details over the phone.
“It’s impossible,” Michael says as I watch the trees and houses fly past the car window. “In a million years Dad would never kill himself.”
He’s right. David wouldn’t.
Except that he did.
And though I’m as shocked as anyone, I might be the only person on Earth who knows why he did it.
Unless he left a note, in which case the whole world will know by this time tomorrow.
As we work our way toward Lexington I make a mental note to ditch my secret cell phone at the first opportunity.
2.
8:15 p.m.
THE THORNE ESTATE was carved from a parcel of Fairborn Farms that was sold to generate quick cash in the early 1990’s when the thoroughbred business was suffering major losses. When the investor died his children subdivided the parcel and David Thorne purchased the largest tract, approximately nine acres, for $2 million. On that piece of prime land, he built the 15,000 square foot mansion we’re currently approaching, and it was here that Michael first introduced me to his family 16 months ago. Behind the house is a huge gazebo that overlooks a sculptured pond. Seven months ago, after breaking up with Michael, I sat on one of the gazebo benches with Alison to explain why family was so important to me: “I was a ward of the state, shuffled from one foster family to the next. I never had a proper childhood with sisters and brothers and loving parents.”
Alison said, “Michael shared that much with us before your first visit. And since that time we’ve grown to love you like a daughter.”
“I know, and I’m 100% grateful. I love you too.”
“It’s a marvel how well you turned out given your rough start. It speaks to your character and determination.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m serious, Nicki. I don’t know anyone who could have handled all you’ve been through and come out with such a positive attitude. I really admire that, and how you always made the best out of whatever situation you found yourself in. Those are the types of qualities that make a marriage work.” She paused, then said, “Would you consider telling me about your aversion to having children?”
I looked at her a minute, then took a deep breath and said, “At 10:15 on the night of the best birthday I ever had, my foster father took my virginity at knife-point, even while his wife tapped on the door to whisper she loved me. I was fourteen, a year younger than Jessie, if that helps put it in perspective.”
“Oh my God, Nicki! That’s horrible! I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. He wasn’t the first foster parent to molest m
e. He just took things up a notch. Later on I caught a lucky break after they arrested him for murdering one of his other foster daughters, who happened to be my best friend in the house. If I’d been home that morning, it could have been me.”
Alison shook her head, sadly. “That may be the worst childhood story I’ve ever heard. But can I ask you something? How does that experience relate to your not wanting children?”
“My insides got so messed up the doctors doubt I can get pregnant. And if I do, they said I could die trying to give birth.”
“Was the rape that brutal? Even with your foster mother close by in the house that night?”
“No ma’am. But the abortion was.” As Alison hung on my words and watched me through wide eyes I added, “It was the first he ever performed.”
“The doctor?”
“My foster father.”
“Jesus, Nicki. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s all right. Like you said, I was determined to have a better life.”
“Well, thank God you finally got away from that family.”
“I did. But just when I thought that was as bad as things could get, I was placed with the Davenports. Please don’t ask me what happened there, okay?”
She nodded.
“Not ever!”
We hugged a long time, and she said, “Have you told any of that part to Michael?”
I looked down at my hands. “No.”
“I’m sure it would help him understand your feelings.”
“I know. But he really wants kids, and should have them. It’s why I had to leave. I just don’t want children.”
“Nicki, I’m sure he loves you much more than he wants children. And don’t forget, you can always adopt.”
“True. But during the breakup he said some pretty harsh things to me.”
She took my hand in hers and smiled. “We save our harshest comments for the ones we love the most. I know you’ve had a terrible life up till now, but you and Michael are still so very young. It’s just natural you’re going to make mistakes and have some bumps along the way. You should give him another chance, Nicki. He adores you.”
“I know. Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
