The Diapered Detective – Chapter Three
Aiden always took meticulous care of his skin, carefully applying the body powder. The Dollar Store brand was just as effective and it prevented both a rash and strong odor. After stuffing the used liner in a grocery bag, he checked the absorbent material of the pull up and decided it could handle the rest of the trip before inserting another liner.
Road trips were always a challenge, especially when the weather went from record a breaking cold to a record breaking heatwave in a matter of days. They called the first one a polar vortex. What would this be, he wondered. Dante’s Inferno? The Hellevator? Sorchageddon?
Aiden was just glad the truck stop had a family restroom. Not that he was ashamed of his condition, but he did value his dignity. People could get uncommonly curious about what he had just thrown in a trash barrel at Wal*Mart for example. And there was the occasional pervert that liked looking through the cracks of stall doors.
When he was satisfied he could be comfortable, Aiden tied the bag up tightly and tossed it into a trash barrel. He then washed his hands before hoisting the backpack onto his shoulder and leaving the room. He stuck his head into the men’s room to see Peter, finishing up at the sink.
Dressed in blue jeans and a red t-shirt that was so pale that it bordered on pink, Peter had undergone a few major cosmetic changes in the last few weeks. His red hair was shorter and professionally styled and the remains of his beard were gone. Clearly he was spending his share of the reward money well.
“I’m going to grab something from the car,” Aiden said.
Peter looked up. “Okay. I’ll meet you inside.”
Aiden found the rental van at the far end of the parking lot. To anyone else, it would seem like his doctor had a sick sense of humor, but a van was just the practical choice for four people spending a week together. There was space in the back for their luggage and plenty of room to ride in comfort.
He opened the rear door and placed his “diaper bag” on top of Genessa’s suitcase and he retrieved the messenger bag that contained all of his snacks. As a favor to him, Keating loaded up on all of Aiden’s favorites, like freeze dried fruits, trail mixes, and beef jerky. The water bottle with the water purifier was a gift from Genessa and he took the time to fill it up at the water fountains just outside the bathrooms.
Inside there was a Cold Stone Creamery, Burger King, and a shopping area that was essentially a convenience store with all of the essentials for truckers, motorists and anyone with children in tow.
Aiden stopped at a rack of best sellers and pretended to be looking for an interesting title. In reality, there was a woman on her laptop sitting at a table just on the other side of the rack. From his vantage point he could make out her Facebook page out of the corner of his eye and see the trending news items along the side. Another celebrity passed away, Arizona vetoed that awful bill, and Ben and Jerry’s released four new flavors. Wonderful.
He took a walk around the rack and suddenly became interested in another shelf that sold bungee cords and other accessories for travel. A man was chatting with a woman about a car crash he passed on the way here. Another woman was arguing with her son over the phone. He could make out snippets of the conversation that lead him to believe the son was one mistake away from winding up in a residential school that catered to children with behavioral disabilities. A quick look at the mother and he could see noticeable dark circles beneath her eyes, even with the dark complexion that he believed suggested native American roots. He turned away from her before she caught his eye and he made his way back to the dining area.
He focused more on the bits of information he could gather about the route ahead. A state trooper emerged from a room and Aiden caught a glimpse of her smart phone and the string of texts she was exchanging with her daughter. People were always talking. There were several televisions on different news stations and a computer screen embedded into a wall near the information desk that gave Doppler radar information for the area.
“-construction along the Mass Turnpike-”
“The two armed assailants got into a light blue pickup truck-”
“- to three inches of rainfall. Later we should see-
“Go to class tomorrow, or else-”
The world was just a crazy place in general. When Aiden couldn’t find anything else that would be useful on the trip he found the table where his doctor and social worker were sitting, chatting quietly. Genessa, dressed comfortably for the warm weather, finished an ice cream sundae while Keating was teasing an empty burger wrapper by picking bits of leftover cheese and bread. Without even being close to them, he could tell they were talking about him, at least at the moment.
Aiden wanted to believe that he wasn’t always the subject of conversation. After all, October wasn’t that far off. They couldn’t be expecting him to want them in his life beyond that point. This whole trip was a favor to him and he was grateful for their assistance. In his home, they would be his guests, treated like royalty because that was how he was raised. But at the end of this week there would be a big dramatic good bye after which he planned to restrict contact to phone calls that would eventually drift off.
Peter came into view, having stopped at the Burger King counter for some food. When he sat at the table, Genessa and Keating quickly dropped the subject and Aiden chose the moment to join them.
“Hey, buddy,” Peter said, when he saw him. “You hungry?”
Aiden took the empty seat opposite Peter and went through his bag.
“No thanks,” he said. “I’m covered.”
He removed a bag of pumpkin seeds and placed it in the center of the table for anyone to help themselves to and took out a package of freeze dried strawberries for himself.
Peter arched a brow. “Do you ever eat more than a handful of things at a time?”
“I just never liked fast food,” Aiden said, simply. “And I don’t really do large meals except for breakfast and dinner.”
“Or tea,” Genessa said. “Seriously, this kid drinks an insane amount of tea. It practically qualifies as a meal.”
Keating chuckled. Aiden smiled and started to munch on his strawberries. After Peter had taken a few bites of his food, he said, “Yeah, put you like pizza. That’s fast food, isn’t it?”
Aiden shook his head.
“Pizza is made fresh on the spot. The ingredients are kept fresh and most of the people working in a pizza place can tell you what’s in them.” Aiden smirked and nodded to Peter’s lunch. “How many people know what’s really in the secret sauce?”
“It’s mayonnaise,” Peter said, not missing a beat. “And that’s McDonalds, this is Burger King.”
“Oh, well,” Aiden shrugged and grabbed a handful of pumpkin seeds. “Either way, we should get off at the next exit. There’s construction and traffic is going to be backed up at some point. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I don’t want to be sitting on the turnpike until morning.”
No one argued with that. Peter was obviously curious about how he picked up that information, and before Aiden could explain it, Keating said, “We’re in your territory now. Do you feel comfortable sitting up front so you can give directions?”
It was Keating’s turn to drive. Since they arranged to stop here for lunch so that Aiden could take care of his needs, Aiden knew that he and Genessa must have planned it this way. Like the van, it was a calculated decision to see how he would react.
“Of course,” Aiden said, turning to Genessa. Three could play this game. “I know you get motion sickness if you’re not in front though. Will you be alright losing shotgun?”
Genessa finished her ice cream and said, “I’ll be fine. I need to cop a nap in the back seat anyway.”
Back on the road, Aiden had to fight the urge to sleep. The air conditioning was on full blast, which was the only good thing about the heat. No one complained about how cold it was when the alternative was eighty degrees and climbing. Genessa was passed out and Peter was deep in his own thoughts as the world passed by.
“Are you okay?” Keating asked.
“I used to get seriously car sick,” Aiden explained. “I did this self hypnosis thing to get my body to fall asleep in any kind of moving vehicle and then it’s not so bad. But I really have to fight to stay awake now.”
During the drive, Aiden remained awake long enough to give directions before passing out. Keating gently tapped his shoulder every few minutes and Aiden simply told him when to turn and how long to stay on each road. He was awake enough to notice the North Shore Mall and after taking a long drink of water, he helped Keating navigate through Peabody, taking them through the rural back roads of Danvers.
“There it is,” Aiden pointed.
The house was on a hill and it could be seen from quite a distance. As it got closer, Keating could make out more features, including a fence that seemed to cover quite a bit of land.
He stole a few glances at Aiden, watching for any signs of emotional reaction. Aiden was composed as ever. It was a change from the smart mouthed little brat that grew on Keating in the last year and he wondered if this wasn’t some sign that his defenses were slowly coming down. What kind of a life would Aiden lead from here on in?
“Oh wow,” Genenessa said, half yawning. She leaned forward for a better look. “You must be excited to finally get back home.”
“There’s definitely a lot of work ahead.” he said. “I apologize ahead of time for the theatrics.”
Keating raise an eyebrow, but realized what he meant when turned onto the driveway. It was completely paved and wound around the edge of the property, so that passengers could easily see the custom built house, the barn and a few other structures built near the property. Peter whistled appreciatively.
“My dad could be a bit of a show off,” Aiden explained. “The house belonged to a farmer before it burned down in the late 80’s. After my parents got married they bought the land and took five years off from work to build the house and refurbish the barn. We can park in front of the garage.”
Keating pulled up in front of a squat building between the barn and the house. Made of cinder block with an ornate roof, the garage had five separate units, all locked shut.
“It’s like a small kingdom,” Peter observed, stepping onto the asphalt.
“The Wolfe Empire,” Aiden affectionately responded. “That was the term thrown around the kitchen table. Dad was just getting started.”
Quietly, he reached into his pocket for the house keys. They were attached to a flat metal key chain that was made in the shape of a wolf’s head, with the name and logo of his father’s security company. He tried not to notice the way Genessa and Keating both watched him, anticipating something, anything. Tears maybe. Sobbing. Aiden simply lead them up the path to the front door of the house and put the key
“Welcome to my home,” he said, opening the door.
“Nice.” Peter whistled appreciatively, taking it all in.
A sofa and a few recliners faced the large bay window that allowed the light of the afternoon sun to bathe the room in a friendly warmth. From their place near the door, they could see the road they traveled and the beyond that was the busy highway and a glimpse of the Liberty Tree Mall. The floor was covered in an eggshell white carpet that ended a foot from the window. On the hardwood floor at one end of the window was a bistro table and four matching ornate chairs.
Aiden led them upstairs where the bedrooms were. The wall of the staircase was decorated with photos of the Wolfe family. Mostly it was the children at various stages of growth, with the parents, apparently unable to find someone else to hold the camera while they took turns posing with their kids.
“Did they have any extended family?” Genessa wondered, keeping her voice low so that only Keating could hear her. “Aunts, uncles? Grandparents?”
Genessa and Keating stopped at what looked like the latest photo. The knowing smirk and intense gaze stared at them from what had to be just a few years ago as a younger Aiden sat in high backed wicker chair with a small girl in his lap. The little girl was raven haired, with a round face, wearing a pink dress. A taller girl that shared more features in common with Aiden, including the dirty blond hair, stood off to the side. Her expression was mature and thoughtful and she held herself high with the youthful wisdom of a girl in her early teens.
“What little personal information I did get out of him during our sessions was that Taylor Wolfe was an only child and Lisa, his mother, was estranged from her family,” Keating said. “That could be why he was never comfortable with all those families you tried to place him with.”
Genessa bit back a snort. Aiden never even tried to fit in with those people, usually making his first impression of them known within seconds. Granted he was usually right about the people he met and Genessa had learned to trust his instincts after the events at the thrift shop. But it would have been nice if he had given people just half of a chance. No one was ever going to be perfect and sometimes the standards seemed on unfair.
“Seemed unfair” because she truly had no idea what his standards were. He was nice the girl at the coffee shop and he was always friendly in restaurants and in shops. But if anyone tried to get close to him or take any aspect of control away from him, he was an outright monster towards them. This road trip was Aiden at his most amiable.
The second floor had a large hallway, with an ornate rug in the center. At the end of the hall, a winding staircase led up to what was probably once the attic, but from the sounds of Aiden and Peter’s voices, was now a guest bedroom. As a social worker, Genessa had an urge to go peaking through closed doors. But out of respect to Aiden, she satisfied herself by sneaking a look into a bedroom where the door was open.
On the door was a sign. Handmade, like the one Aiden had on his room at the shelter. Only this one was made from some kind of homemade paper and the frame was dried twigs that were tightly hand woven.
Freya’s Domain
The F and the D were stylized in a kind of Old English style and the area around the words was filled with leaves painted in autumn colors and a small bird on the end of the name. She turned to the bedroom next to Freya’s and saw another sign on the door that read “Princess Isolde’s Castle” that also had it’s own unique features. Genessa wondered if Aiden made those as well.
Keating stood in the center of the hallway, hands in his pockets as he seemed to form his own theories. Whatever Aiden and Peter were talking about, they were obviously going to be up there for a while. Genessa gestured to Freya’s room and suggested they take a look. She pushed the door open a little more, just to let herself in.
Like the living room, the bedroom was brightly lit and every color in the rainbow was represented in the bed spread, the curtains and the furniture. The bed was covered in a rainbow comforter and several pillows were propped against the headboard. Various posters covered the wall. Liam Hemsworth, Benedict Cumberbatch, there was a Lord of the Rings poster from the 80’s that looked like it had been folded and bent several times through out its life. Genessa went to the window where there was a small bookshelf. Freya was obviously in college, judging from the recent editions of some text books Genessa recognized from her college days. Hardcover Harry Potter books, a copy of Twilight, and a few Jane Austin novels filled the upper shelves and the top shelf was covered in sea shells, a snow globe and a picture of Freya at a beach leaning on some guy’s shoulders.
“What do you think?”
Genessa’s heart slid into her stomach as she turned to see Aiden in the door frame, wondering how he would react when he saw her poking around. He wasn’t fuming and he didn’t seem angry, but then he seemed to be sound asleep when Jim tried to close his window at the shelter. He also seemed weak and vulnerable when he dropped a guy nearly twice his size on the pavement. There as just no predicting his moods from one minute to the next.
When she didn’t answer Aiden stepped inside the bedroom and came to the window.
“You can stay in this room if you like,” he said. “I think you and Freya would have gotten along.”
Genessa couldn’t have been more surprised if he screamed at her. Keating also seemed surprised, but again, he simply stood there and observed. Aiden picked up the photo and sighed.
“She was still with that idiot,” he said. “I guess I’m going to have to get a hold of him.”
“Was he her boyfriend?” Geness asked.
Aiden gave her a sidelong look.
“Are you asking me professionally or out of curiosity?”
“Just curiosity, I promise.”
“Yes, he was her boyfriend,” Aiden said, putting the frame down. He took great care to make sure it was exactly as he found it. “Karl. He got held back in his sophomore year of high school. The guy had reading troubles but the teachers just kept passing him along. Yes, I know it wasn’t his fault, but he could have tried harder if he wasn’t so stubborn. Then Freya comes along and two years later he’s college bound.”
“Maybe she really was a goddess,” Keating said.
Genessa bit her lip. Aiden’s skin was thick, no doubt about it, but that still wasn’t the most tactful comment. Even she’d flip out over it, but Aiden just shrugged and snorted.
“Yeah, well, he’d have to go into battle first,” he pointed out. “He started working out to impress her. I guess she had a lot of experience dealing with a disabled headcase.”
Holy shit, Genessa really had to bite her tongue this time. A sign of humility? She had to check outside to see if there was a pig flying around. Maybe later she’d buy a lottery ticket. Peter squeezed past Keating and joined them by the window.
“Hey, what’s that?” He asked. He pointed to a structure at the far end of the property. It looked like a greenhouse at first, only it was smaller and surrounded by a small wrought iron fence.
“That’s Tristan’s grave, ” Aiden said, solemnly.
“Who’s Tristan?”
“Tristan and Isolde were twins, but there were complications. Tristan only lasted six months and Isolde was eight years old.” Aiden paused, giving Genessa and Keating a subtle warning glance that seemed to say that the conversation was over. “Anyhow, Peter’s taking the guest bedroom. Keating, do you want to use my parent’s room? It’s the only one that’s made up right now.”
“Yeah that’s fine,” Keating said. There was a slightly chipper tone in his voice from Aiden revealing just as much as he did.
Aiden went to Freya’s dresser and pulled out the top drawer. He removed an iPad that was still plugged into the wall and handed it to Genessa.
“The power’s still on,” he said. “So the wifi is probably still working too. I’ll double check before we turn in for the night.”
“Thank you,” Genessa said. She was touched by the offer and she held the iPad like it was some rare egg.
“I only have one request. Just log out of her Facebook, please.”
There was a catch in Aiden’s voice and he quickly turned to leave the room. He paused in the doorwa.
“Peter, do you want to give me a hand in the kitchen?” He asked. “We should see what’s in there and maybe make a shopping trip.”
“Yeah, sure.” Peter followed Aiden out of the room.
Genessa put the iPad back in the drawer and sighed.
“I think we should probably cool it for a bit,” she said. “He knows what we’re trying to do and I don’t want to make him feel defensive in his own home. That could get messy.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Keating said. He had been quiet the whole time and Genessa hoped they would have time later to compare notes. “I’m going to grab my stuff and get settled in.”
* * *
“You have plenty of canned stuff,” Peter observed, going through the cupboards.
“I know. I did a mental inventory before we left the house.”
Peter snickered. Aiden was leaning against the kitchen island, staring into the living room with his arms crossed. The only sounds other than the refrigerator running were of Genessa and Keating bringing their stuff in from the van.
“That was what, a year ago?” he said.
“I just needed to come down here to get a clear head. Those two are making things more complicated than they have to be.”
“Hey, did you hear me?” Peter said. “There’s no way you know what’s in these cupboards.”
Aiden turned to give Peter the full power of his all knowing smirk.
“You do remember how we met, right?” He asked. “I know where every single item is in this house. Even the things Freya probably wished I didn’t know about and I have to admit, I kinda wish I could forget those things too.”
“A couple lucky guesses.” Peter returned the smirk to show he was having as much fun with this as Aiden. “You did impress me with that laundry detergent thing though.”
Peter had never told anyone about his time in jail and except for his boss, the director who ran both the homeless shelter and the thrift shop, no one knew he was on parole. Then Aiden began coming to the store every other day for a few weeks. At first Peter thought that it was weird that the kid never went to school. Then they got to talking and Peter’s opinion upgraded to some weird kid that never went to school, but was pretty damn smart. So maybe he was wrong about the age and Aiden was in college. Peter didn’t think anything of it until they met up at the coffee shop one afternoon and Peter started making eyes at the cute barista who worked behind the counter.
He remembered the conversation as clearly as if it were yesterday.
“Careful.” Aiden’s voice echoed in his mind. “She’s a long way from home, but she tells her parents everything.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Peter asked.
Aiden leaned forward and whispered. The coffee shop was crowded so Peter leaned closely to listen.
“Ashely is going to college in Albany,” he explained. “But she’s from North Carolina. There’s a bible inside of the school bag she brings with her to work every day. It’s an actual bible that’s obviously been used, so not a textbook for a class, but an actual tool for religious practice. Her accent has a Southern tang, but it’s not so strong as it would be anywhere below the Mason Dixon line. So probably North Carolina and most likely Baptist. That’s supported by the fact that she’s never here on a Sunday. She’s from North Carolina and she goes to school in New York. How’s she paying for that working in a small coffee shop?” Aiden paused to take a sip of his tea. “My guess is a scholarship, but her parents have to be paying for the plane tickets at least if not half of her schooling.”
Peter shrugged. Ashely did have a Southern accent which he found charming and he supposed Aiden was right since he was in here all the time.
“Well what does it matter if she tells them everything.” He asked.
Aiden smiled, sympathetically and sniffed the air dramatically.
“You did laundry recently. That’s an industrial strength detergent similar to what they used at the same hospital I stayed at. Places like hospitals and jails buy it in bulk. I’m guessing you get a box of it every now and again from your…” Aiden whispered. “Parole officer.”
If anyone else had said it, well, Peter wouldn’t have slugged them so much as he would have made accusations about their sex life. In either case, something about the way Aiden said it made it seem like he really cared whether or not Peter got himself into trouble. Ashely might have been okay with a relationship, but who knows how she might react to finding out he had been in trouble with the law?
“I won’t tell anyone.” Aiden leaned back and finished his tea.
A year later, Peter stopped being surprised by Aiden’s brains, or his personality. But it was still fun to watch him in action and Aiden was a born showoff.
Without another word, Peter picked a random cupboard above the sink and opened it just a jar. He glanced over his shoulder and Aiden, smirk and all, turned to face the living room again.
“On the top shelf to the far right there’s a can of creamed corn.”
Peter looked. He had to stand on his toes just to be sure, but there were actually a few cans of corn.
“Lucky guess,” he said.
“There’s a can of yams exactly six cans to the left.”
Peter’s eyes wandered to the left of the corn and saw a single can of pureed yams exactly where Aiden said it would be.
“Yeah, okay genius,” Peter randomly grabbed two cans from two separate shelves and swapped them.
“I can actually hear you.” Aiden said. “And you just swapped a can of Swanson’s chicken broth where a can of baked beans used to be. One is obviously going to be heavier than the other and it’s going to make a slightly louder sound no matter how sneakily you place it.”
“But it still could have been any two cans.” Peter said.
“Well, you did have your back turned. I stole a glance.”
Peter laughed. He went to the refrigerator and looked inside. “Okay, what’s in here?”
“Okay, very funny.” Aiden shook his head. “We cleared the refrigerator out before we left. It’s empty, unless you mean the empty racks and crisper bin. Oh how could I have guessed that’s what you meant?”
“Then you missed the milk.”
Aiden turned around and all traces of humor vanished. Peter stepped aside and held the door open so he could see a half empty gallon of milk sitting on the top shelf. Aiden reached in to take a closer look, then he closed the door. He stared at the stainless steel door for a long time, silent and thoughtful. Then he cleared his throat and took a step back.
“There’s a general store just down the road from here.” he checked the clock above the stove. “They should still be open. We’re not going to survive long on half a gallon of milk.”
Peter arched a brow as Aiden made his way for the stairs.
“I’m going to grab some things from my room,” Aiden called down. “Meet me at the garage.”
Well that was weird. Peter pulled open the fridge door and looked at the milk again. It was still fresh and there was a way to go before it expired. Even he could guess what that meant, so why didn’t Aiden say what they probably both knew?
Someone else was using this house.
The End of The Diapered Detective – Chapter Three.
If you want to read more stories about ABDL boys you can find a list here: Diaper Boys – Index