Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103402 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“In what ways did you lash out?”
Greg took a moment to compose himself. I could see the visible pain this caused by talking about it. Surprising, especially since he was still a homophobic twat up until the day Oliver moved out of the apartment, which had been three years ago. Plenty of time to change, but suspicious timing if he was looking to throw people off his trail.
“I was a dick. I’d make dumb comments as they walk by, and I’d… oh God, I was just terrible. I don’t even want to say the things I did out loud. I’d take down their pride flag. Leave it on the floor like trash. It was horrible.”
“Did you ever get physical with them?”
His eyes almost popped out of their sockets. “Hurt them? No, no, absolutely… oh no. You don’t think… I didn’t do it, I couldn’t have. I swear, please. I would never.”
The dawn of realization broke inside Greg’s nervous brown eyes.
“You have to believe me,” he continued. “I’d never hurt anyone. Not physically. I own the mental trauma I inflicted, and I regret that every single day of my waking gay life. But I didn’t, and I would never, beat someone up. Kill someone. No. No, no.”
He was almost on the brink of tears. I had to regain control of this interview before he spiraled downward and I lost any chance of gaining valuable information.
“Okay, let’s double back. You said you were running from your sexuality. Did you realize something in yourself?”
Greg nodded, a streak of wetness glistening on his cheek. “I mean, I knew, ever since I could remember, I knew I was gay. I just… I was so scared. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have any friends, and I had no guidance. I lashed out instead of asking for help.”
And out of all the people in the world, Oliver may have been the one who could have helped Greg out. He had one of the biggest hearts I’d ever known, and I just knew that he would have made a difference in Greg’s life if he were just allowed.
“When did you officially accept it?”
“It was around Christmas, two years ago.”
As touching as Greg’s story was, it didn’t quite help in easing my suspicion. The timing still allowed Greg to have lashed out at Oliver and Derrick. And even though Greg was adamant on the fact that he’d never hurt anyone, that didn’t exonerate him. He could just be an excellent liar, or he had connections to people who would hurt someone, depending on how much money was offered.
“What’s your job, Greg?”
And do you make enough money to hire a hit man?
“My job? Oh, I’m a florist. I used to work reception at a doctor’s office, but being a florist is one of my dreams come true.”
Okay, so he probably wasn’t making hit man kind of money.
“I swear, I’m a changed man. I donate to GLAAD, and I volunteer weekly at the local shelter. We still see so many kids coming through because they were kicked out of their homes. I can’t… it hurts to even think about.”
I knew Greg wasn’t lying about his volunteer time. I had been following him for a couple of days now, before this meeting, and I had seen him go to the shelter, where he had been greeted warmly and seemed to get along with everyone. I didn’t catch him going to work, but judging by the dozens of vases all holding fresh flowers around his apartment, I figured he wasn’t lying. I still asked for the name of the florist shop just to follow up, though.
There was more to mine from Greg. He was seeming less and less likely to be involved, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have information on who could be behind this.
“When you were hostile toward Oliver and Derrick, did you also have friends who acted the same way? Anyone who would hang out with you often?”
Greg seemed to search his memory for a moment. “No. I was a loner for the most part. That part of my life’s gotten better, too. I joined the YMCA and go out to social events every now and then. I’m not the same person I used to be.”
His eyes were saying he spoke the truth. I believed him, but I still didn’t exonerate him. Derrick’s killer was still on the loose, and I had to make sure I followed every single thread, no matter how thin it might be.
“Is there anyone you can think of that knew Oliver and had shared your same attitude? Not friends, but anyone you may have seen around the apartment complex?”
“Right, no, I don’t… well, you know what. There was this one guy. I never really spoke to him except for a handful of times. Don’t even know if he lives in the state, but I remember him having a very strong hatred toward gay people.”