Behind The Horned Mask: Book 2

by Jeff Vrolyks

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  I had been talking to Aaron on the phone every evening, ranging from a couple minutes to over an hour. I’d hand the phone over to Norrah so she could wish him well. We spent at least a portion of our conversations talking about his new relationship with Deborah. They were dating and he adored her, couldn’t talk enough about her. We spent just as much time discussing and debating Edward Berg’s case. We both agreed that he’d be found guilty. The evidence against him was just too damning. We prayed that a juror would somehow find the truth.

  Aaron had been telling me over the days and weeks about the phone calls that he’d gotten from some of the twenty-three. They’d call him to say they found God, and to thank Aaron for leading them on that path. He phoned some of the twenty-three who hadn’t yet called, to check in on them. Their responses varied from “I’m still undecided,” to, “I just don’t believe it, sorry.” The latter was Wendy, though she wasn’t the only one echoing that sentiment. Cody and Victoria were of that mindset as well. But that began changing.

  During a long conversation with Aaron, he told me something interesting that I’ll now share with you. He had just gotten off the phone with Victoria. She had decided God had nothing to do with the supposed miracle that is resurrection. She didn’t believe anything Aaron had to say (she didn’t think he was lying, but just wrong), but gave it ample consideration before resigning to that conclusion. That was a couple of weeks ago. The nightmares that the cross had warded off began creeping back. Mildly at first, not so mildly recently. Her dreams were of the party, of Devil killing the masqueraders. They were becoming increasingly more realistic, more intense, as if they weren’t a dream but a vivid memory of the event. They always ended with the Devil breaking her neck. She’d fall to the floor dead, but through her lifeless eyes she continued to watch. She watched the murders of the others (those which occurred before her gaze, that is) and those murders were committed in the precise fashion that they were alleged to have happened by her friends and Aaron. It came to be that she believed what she was dreaming to be real, a vision or a memory. She had been killed, and was finally able to admit that to herself. And thus she had to have been returned to life. There was only one way that could be. A miracle. And only one makes miracles: God. She was weeping as she told Aaron that she finally accepted God, and had never felt so wonderful in her life. She apologized to both Aaron and God for being so stubborn and blind.

  After telling me this, I had things to tell Aaron as well; namely, the notations of Edward in the notepad that he had given me this morning. He had written copious amounts on Paul. I think if Paul was indeed responsible for framing this poor kid, it was a huge mistake on his part, a major oversight. Because of it Edward wrote what he had. Had Paul not done what he did with the two girls, I wouldn’t have these pages before my eyes. Not that anything he had written was significant in an overt sense, but there were some things to ponder over, mostly undertones and subtext, but some things were more substantial.

  Nobody had a clue as to where Paul had come from, where he originated from. He was fourteen when Aaron met him at Calvary chapel in Fresno. I assumed he was born and raised in Fresno. Written on a page with the number 16 circled on the top right corner was a revelation on that matter. He had said he moved to Fresno at thirteen, having ran away from his parents, who he called the worst fucking parents any kid could ask for. I researched missing children with the last name Klein and found nothing pertinent. It was probably a fake name, I had long suspected that. But he did say where he moved from, and that was Sedona, Arizona. Even knowing the town to be Sedona, I still found nothing about a missing thirteen-year-old boy who might be Paul. But it was something, knowing where he was from. If we could find out who his parents are, somehow, or any family at all, that could lead to something greater. More answers.

  On a page numbered 37 was the summary of the conversation Edward Berg had with Paul regarding his desire to become a politician. Many of their conversations were held over a game of pool, but not this one. The two were drinking beers together at a party on campus. The guy throwing the party was the son of a congressman, whom Edward had named but I won’t repeat. Paul had thought it was the coolest thing, to have a congressman for a dad. That’s when he said that he’d like to be a congressman someday, or U.S. ambassador, or maybe even a senator. With a smile he said maybe even the president. Eddie had asked him why he’d want to be a politician, that they were all a bunch of lying cheating sleezeballs. Paul replied, “Everyone is a lying cheating sleezeball. Politicians just get paid for it. And they get to write laws, and spend others’ money. And they get respect.” Paul said he’d bet that any cop who pulled over a big-wig politician would not only hesitate to write them a ticket, but apologize for the inconvenience that was pulling them over.

  It was page 43 (of a total 68 pages) that Edward wrote more on the topic. He had remembered something previously forgotten. Paul had begun hanging out with that son of Congressman X. He didn’t talk much about it, that’s why it didn’t have much of an impact on Edward’s memory. He did say that the congressman had invited his son on a boat trip on his yacht off Coronado, just beyond San Diego, and that son invited Paul along. There were nine people on that boat trip which lasted from noon till one in the morning. Paul had spoken to the politician, to what degree Edward didn’t know because Paul didn’t say. Paul only said that after that boat trip he was a hundred-percent sure that he was going to be a politician someday, and he wanted to be just like Congressman X.

  Page 63 was one that I thought Aaron would find highly interesting. I was glad that Edward had written it because I had reserved judgment that everything Paul had said was a lie, but now I knew he did speak at least some truths to Edward. He spoke of Fresno, and even spoke of attending church. That’s when Paul discovered that religious people were hypocrites and every bad thing that politicians are rumored to be.

  Aaron asked if that was all Edward had written on Fresno.

  “I saved the best for last.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Paul had told Edward of an unnamed friend who went to church with him. And of the scene he made in church, about Freddy and the hamster he killed. Paul boasted that his friend (I think we both know who this friend is) had dirt on everyone there and he really stirred the pot putting that information to use. He said his friend mentioned that the Sunday school teacher had raped a girl when he was a teenager.”

  “I didn’t rape her! It was consensual!”

  “I know,” I said. “Paul’s words, not mine.”

  “What else did that lying prick say about me?”

  “He said that the Sunday school teacher was planning on raping one of his pupils. His friend knew it somehow.”

  “Liar!” Aaron shouted into the phone. “I’d never harm that girl in a million years!”

  “Bud, I’m not accusing you of anything. Want me to stop?”

  “No,” Aaron said with marked frustration and anger. “Go on.”

  “So Edward asked Paul how his friend could possibly know that. His reply was vague, but he then said something else. Ready for it, Aaron? This is going to be hard for you to hear. It’s going to upset you.”

  “I’m already upset. Tell me.”

  “He asked if Edward ever had premonitions, visions of the future. Edward hadn’t. Paul said he had them sometimes, and one specific one he had frequently. The girl whom the pastor wanted to rape, she was only a kid, but he knew what she’d look like at fifteen, because he was to be her first lay. Edward had laughed and said he’d do jail time for that, screwing a fifteen-year-old. Edward thought Paul was just kidding about it. After all, this was the same kid who lied about being a student at U of R, among other things. Paul said, ‘You laugh, but it will happen. I saw this premonition clear as day. Several times. And I’ve never had a premonition that didn’t come true. It will happen. It will be the day after the girl turns fifteen, at a high-school party. I lure her into a bedroom and take
her virginity. So clear it is that I even know what she looks like naked—she has a mole on her left groin.”

  I listened to Aaron breathe into the phone for a curious stretch of time.

  “Aaron? You okay?”

  “Did he say anything else?”

  “About Brooke? No. He never mentioned her by name, but that’s whom he was talking about, right?”

  “Yes. He’s either lying or mistaken. Maybe he fantasized about it, but it wasn’t a premonition. Brooke wouldn’t have sex with Paul, not ever. If he said he’d rape her, that I might worry over. But she’s a good girl, and despises Paul like any right-minded person would.”

  “You should call Brooke to see if it happened.”

  “Tinkerbelle isn’t fifteen. She’s fourteen.”

  “Oh…”

  “It’s not going to happen. It’s not.”

  “I believe you. When’s her birthday?”

  “I don’t know. But you have a point. Maybe Paul will try to snake his way into bed with her.”

  “If so, that would be our chance at confronting Paul.”

  “And do what? Beat him up?” Aaron said sarcastically. “Kill him?”

  “We’d protect Brooke. I don’t know what I’d say to Paul, actually. Maybe I would kick his ass. God will forgive me. Maybe we can put the hurt on him, make him confess to murdering those two girls in Idaho.”

  “I don’t know, Jay.” He sighed. “I’ll pray for guidance. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Why don’t you start by finding out when her birthday is.”

  “I can do that, sure. Anything else in those pages that you want to share? I don’t think my blood pressure can handle anything more.”

  “Nothing much. I just told you everything I felt was significant.”

  “Okay. I’ll let you go. Tell Norrah goodnight for me. Take care, brother.”

  “You too.”

  It was coming up on nine P.M. Aaron nearly called Brooke a couple times but couldn’t get himself to press the Call button. He’d didn’t want to needlessly worry her. And talking about her virginity seemed a little creepy, inappropriate, and wholly distasteful. He figured it would be best to text her. That way he could tell her as little as possible and give well thought-out responses to her texts. At a quarter after the hour he sent a text: Hey Tinkerbelle, how are you? I was just thinking about how I don’t know your birthday. I like to keep my friends’ birthdays so I can send them a card.

  He pressed send.

  It wasn’t a minute later when she replied: Hi, Aaron (smiley face). My birthday is October 30th. When’s yours?

  Aaron texted: December 2nd. Sleep well. Talk to you soon.

  Aaron then texted me Brooke’s birthday, said we had a few months to worry about it. With any luck Paul would turn up dead by then. Okay, Aaron didn’t say that, but I imagined he did and it humored me. I wish Aaron would say something like that just once. Must he be so perfect at all times? What I wouldn’t give to see Aaron punch Paul in the mouth. I’d give a week’s salary to see that.