by JD Jones
Chapter Eight
Kathy and John arrived at Emil's old house. It was early evening and the sun was still warm but low to the horizon. Children played everywhere on the street as John navigated their Jeep to the place indicated on their GPS system. They had talked things out as they drove. Kathy had explained her plan of attack, as she called it. They were here to find out what, if anything, Emil's parents knew about the crime against their son. Marcie and Emil were going to stay in the background, monitoring for any energies in the area that might help them. Marcie had explained that sometimes after an evil event like a murder certain energy hungry entities gathered around to feed off the misery of those left behind. Emil had said he was okay with all this but Kathy had wondered privately how he would be, seeing his parents again under these circumstances.
They found the place and John got out of the Jeep slowly. He understood the good they were here to accomplish. He knew in his own mind, if he had been killed he would want the killer or killers found and judged according to the laws of the land. He also knew that grieving parents were unpredictable and the encounter was always uncomfortable, even when things went smoothly. He had seen more than his share of funerals and grieving relatives, being a pastor's son. He had never liked the feeling of being around those who were mourning the loss of a loved one. He was pretty sure he was not going to enjoy this one either.
Kathy led the way and rang the doorbell of the quaint, suburban home. The front yard looked like every other yard. The small, manicured trees and flower gardens could have been cut from a magazine. The grass was green everywhere with never a hint of brown due to the landscaping company's diligence in these matters. Kathy noted that the perfection of the outside often hid the imperfection that lived on the inside.
“I have often thought that, too,” Emil offered in her head as she thought it.
“I was not thinking about here,” Kathy was embarrassed to be thinking negative thoughts before she was even inside. “I was thinking how my own life looked on the outside when inside there was a raging child serial killer on the loose.”
“Most everyone has a different look when you can get inside their life.” Emil finished as the door opened before Kathy.
A woman in her late forties stood before them in a short dress of tasteful design and function to allow her to be stylish while also enjoying the warmth of the last few days. She held a dish towel in her hands, drying them, and Kathy realized they had not considered their arrival was close to the supper hour for many folks.
“Hello.”
The dark haired woman stood with one hip higher than the other, like she was posing or balancing her stance because she had been standing a long time. It gave her a model's outline of form and also drew years from her age as the idea of a much younger woman was hinted at in the attitude of her position. Younger girls all over schoolyards would use that same stance to accentuate their own best features when in the presence of their friends. She could have easily passed for a woman in her thirties. Good health, proper diet and exercise as well as her Middle Eastern background had come together with that school yard attitude to splash the perfect picture of youth upon this suburban woman.
The woman's voice was almost musical. There was a hint of humor in her smile and a sincerity of manner greeting a stranger at her door. But her eyes told a different story. There was a darkness in there. A haunting look that said she lived in her own nightmare when no one was listening. Kathy was reminded of Emil's words that everyone had a different look inside. Kathy wondered what it looked like inside this woman.
“Mrs. Gallot?” Kathy started. She was not as sure about this thing as she was before actually confronting Emil’s mother.
“Yes. Can I help you?” The woman's eyes flashed to John and gave him a quick once over. Kathy saw it and smiled to herself. She was an older woman, had some grief from having lost a son too early, but she was not dead yet. She still had the sense about her person to take in the sights. And right now, John was in her sights. Kathy recognized the look of a woman who was a hunter. She was not the timid, stay at home mom Kathy had expected. This woman had been a formidable opponent for the affection of the boys in high school and she had never lost that edge. She had no problem imagining this woman as the center of any party she went to.
“Try remembering that whatever you imagine, I have to see, too.” Emil reminded her in a mock gesture of indignant offense.
“Understood.” Kathy replied in her mind while looking at the woman before her.
“Uh...yes, Ma'am.” Kathy started again. “My name is Kathy Corwin and this is my husband, John.”
She gestured toward John behind her on the small set of steps. She loved saying her new name and her new relationship out loud. She never got a chance to say it enough. Mrs. Kathy Corwin. Yes, that was her. Mrs. Kathy.
The woman waited for Kathy to continue.
“I hate to bother you but I'm on kind of a strange mission of my own to uncover details about past events and I saw the article in the paper, actually on the internet, relating the details of your son's death. I know how upset you must be after such an incident and how traumatic it must be, but if you could spare the time and help me, I would be very grateful.”
Smooth. John had to give her that. Kathy had taken an awkward situation and turned it around to show the people how they could make some good come out of it by helping her. It was a glimmer of hope she offered and most people in the position of Emil's parents would grab onto any hope they could find.
Kathy had read the article on Emil’s accident and decided to use the information that tire skid marks at the scene had been identified as belonging to a larger passenger car. The reporter writing the article had remarked that it was most likely a large, older Ford or Lincoln vehicle. Since a newer Lincoln had been identified in the kidnapping of herself when she was younger, Kathy had grabbed onto the thin connection and decided to use it as a way to open a door into the home of the Gallots.
“I don't see how we can help,” Mrs. Gallot answered but stood back, obviously inviting them in.
Hope. It held people together as much as love did sometimes. Sometimes love and hope were the same thing. Right now, Mrs. Gallot was banking on hope and reaching out in love for anything that might make the thing that had happened to her family right.
Kathy and John followed the woman into her living room. It was clean and tidy, but not as manicured and perfect as the lawn outside. Kathy had a sneaking suspicion that the further they went inside the less and less this place would look like the front lawn. Emil's words came back to her again.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Mrs. Gallot asked.
“No thank you,” Kathy answered.
“Yes, please,” John spoke up. “If I could just have a glass of water. It's been a long trip.”
John remembered that saying no was not a gift to a hurting family. They wanted to keep busy and be of use, have some purpose in their suddenly purposeless lives. Always accept whatever was offered, just don't make them go to any special trouble. It helps them relax and open up. He was surprised he remembered that. Usually he ignored his father when he was telling him the finer points of being a good pastor. He had no desire to end up as a pastor himself.
“Very well. I'll ask my husband to join us, too.” The woman smiled at John and turned to leave. Watching her leave, Kathy could not help but notice the extra sway in the hem of the short skirt the woman wore. The woman was a flirt even when confronted with the memory of her dead son. Amazing. And with a man the age of her son, too. Simply amazing.
“Hey, that's my mother, there,” Emil tried to sound put off.
“Looked like she was flirting to me, too,” Marcie chimed in.
“I must have missed it,” John added his two cents in his mind.
“John, you'd miss the sinking of the Queen Mary until the water was up around you ears.” Marcie laughed.
“What are you trying to say?” John acted hurt.
“If it isn'
t Kathy, you never see what any other woman is doing.” Marcie answered him.
“And that's a bad thing?” John asked innocently.
“No,” Kathy answered. “But it means you miss a whole lot of what's going on around you.”
“And a whole lot of opportunities, too.” Marcie had to throw in her assessment.
Emil was chuckling in the background. Kathy added her laughter to his. They sounded good together. They laughed easily with each other. John noticed things like that. He wasn't jealous. Just appreciative of how easily Kathy related to others, like Emil. She was an easy person to get to know and become friendly with. He had seen it often over the Summer at the campground.
“Hello, there.” The voice was a man's and it came from behind them.
A tall man walked through a doorway behind them. He had come from a hallway that John and Kathy had not noticed before. He was dark skinned, probably Middle Eastern himself, or from India. He walked with a certain authority that told everyone he was there and to be reckoned with. He did not sneak into a room. He entered with full fanfare and called all to see him do so. His frame was athletic and thin. Made more thin looking by his height of at least six foot two, maybe three. His manner said he was the man of the house and wherever else he might be.
John stood to shake hands with Mr. Gallot as he approached. It was a firm, no nonsense grip that was friendly and at the same time, binding. If you shake with me, we are friends, the grip seemed to speak. John liked the man immediately upon meeting him. He seldom saw real men in the churches where his father pastored. Churches seemed to only collect beaten males who were seeking a place to lay up and lick their wounds or hide from their responsibilities behind the worn out scriptures of church traditions. Most of the men who stayed in a church never again stepped out as real men to make life happen. Instead, they accepted whatever life threw at them with some platitude about it being the Lord's will. Mr. Gallot was not one of those men. He was a mover and a shaker. Maybe not a corporate executive but definitely a man to be watched in any event. He was the guy everyone wanted on their team in grade school. A winner.
Kathy saw John light up as he shook hands with Mr. Gallot. She was aware that John held a certain amount of shame in his life as the son of a minister. He believed his dad to be a great man who allowed the people of the churches he pastored to waste him. Though John would never admit it, he had always secretly hoped his dad would wake up one day and throw all those poor, needy people away and just be his dad. It was a resentment of sorts, she reasoned. If a dad is going to throw his life away, he should throw it away on those that loved him, not just the ones that used him. Kind of like throwing away his inheritance. John saw all that his dad was become less than it could have been because it was not appreciated by those using it. John was adamant that his life would never end like that. Everything that John was and had was designed to improve his life with those he loved. Right now, that meant his mother and his wife, though not necessarily in that order. She checked John's posture and looked to see if he was looking at her. No. Good. She was getting better at thinking thoughts and not shouting them to everyone around, including John. She never wanted to hurt him.
“So, you've come to ask us some questions?” Mr. Gallot asked.
“Yes, Mr. Gallot,” Kathy started. The man waved her words away.
“Call me Amal.”
“Okay, Amal,” Kathy tested out the name.
“And I would like you to call me Noni,” Mrs. Gallot entered the room carrying an empty glass and a bottle of cold water for John. Her look said she especially wanted John to feel at home with her. She made a dramatic display of offering the glass and water to John before seating herself beside her husband on the arm of the chair he had settled into.
Kathy nodded to Noni’s request.
“And I am Kathy and this is John.”
Introduction completed, she returned her attention to the man who had entered the room and sat down with such ease of movement. It was not lost on her that Emil looked a lot like his father. A younger version to be sure, but remarkably similar in almost every detail. It was like seeing a ghost of her ghost. The thought made her smile to herself.
“I come from good genes,” Emil joked.
“Genes with a, G, or Jeans with a, J?” Marcie joked.
“Looks like both,” Kathy added to the mirth taking place in her head.
Mindful of the seriousness of their situation, John tried to not frown openly. He was not so sure he pulled it off. Either way, Kathy spoke up and drew attention back to herself.
“As I told your wife,” Kathy correctly addressed Amal, who was definitely the head of this household. “I am searching through some things of my past and discovered an article about the accident your son had.”
Both parents nodded their heads and said nothing.
“First, let me say how sorry I am for your loss. I used to work with a police department and I know how trying things are and how difficult, sometimes, the healing process can be.”
Again the heads nodded in recognition of her condolences. They had heard too many already. Condolences do not add hope. Kathy continued.
“When I was a young girl, I was abducted and consequently found wandering in a secluded area of our town. The only real evidence ever discovered was a link to possibly a newer, dark colored Lincoln or some kind of similar car. Nothing much to go on, really. The article I read about your son's accident, drew my attention because the reporter mentioned an older model Lincoln in it. That would be my newer Lincoln, now older, if there is any connection at all.”
“What makes you believe there is a connection?” Amal asked.
“Nothing, really.” Kathy admitted. “I am only grasping at straws and hoping that something will be found as I look at everything.”
“And your part in this?” Noni included John in the discussion going on. Kathy realized Noni was an open flirt, even with her husband in the room. She also saw that Noni was not as submissive to her husband as she had originally thought. She would have to address Noni, too.
“I am her husband, and as such, I want her to learn whatever she can to make her life better about this subject.” John tried to fit in.
“But you have no real understanding of losing a loved one or being abducted like your wife is describing?” Amal again.
“No. Sir.” he felt obligated to add that. It seemed necessary when dealing with such an authoritative person as Amal.
“Amal,” Amal reminded him. John nodded.
John thought about adding that he knew what it was to have his father home every night but so far away from the things of the family that he knew exactly what it was to have lost a loved one. He knew what it was to have lost him and still have him close enough to touch, just not close enough to have anything to do with him. In many ways, John felt his loss was worse than those who had to attend a funeral. At least they got closure of some kind and a definite point to move on from. His relationship with his home nightly but otherwise absent father left him with no point from which to move onward. All he had was a hope that maybe the next day would allow for the relationship he had desired. Until the day his dad actually did die. Then the hope died that day, too.
He remembered getting the call at college. He had to come home and help his mother. A church member had called with her condolences but he needed to come home right away and help his mother. Church people were no help. They were good at asking for help and telling others what help they needed. But they seldom helped anyone. Now, sitting here in Amal's living room, he felt a desire to claim all that had been done to him in the name of being a pastor's son over the years and demand his due. But instead, he did what he had been trained to do. He smiled, nodded his head and sat in the background letting someone else tend to the grown up things.
“He has been most helpful in allowing me to search for some kind of closure in my situation,” Kathy came to John's rescue. She also wanted to pull attention back to herself.
&nb
sp; “Husbands are good for helping us get what we want in life.” Noni added and rubbed her husband's shoulder affectionately. But her eyes kept coming back to John.
“Yes,” Kathy agreed. “I have been following up every story I can find, to see if there is any connection. Not much to go on, I know, but when it is all a person has, sometimes just doing something is better than sitting around doing nothing.”
Both the parents nodded. They knew. Kathy could see it in their eyes. She had seen it in her mother's eyes for years. A far away look that said a person did not know how to deal with what was close at hand. Only answers that made sense could take away that look. She hoped she could help find those answers.
“Well, the stories that spread after the accident were just that, stories. There were no witnesses, to our knowledge. No one saw what happened. Some tire marks were found that could have been involved, but never identified as involved conclusively.” Amal explained what they knew.
“We just know that someone in a car, probably a dark blue one, based on paint transfer on Emil's bicycle. Emil's our son.” Noni said it like he was still alive. “Hit him as he was pedaling northbound out on route 70 in the early evening, late afternoon. Police think the driver may have been drunk or otherwise distracted to have hit Emil, because the afternoon light would have been behind the driver. The fact he crossed over the line and hit Emil head on made them believe a drunk driver was more likely.”
“So, there was no reason to believe anyone did this to your son on purpose?” Kathy asked.
The shocked look on their faces said the parents had never even thought of such a thing before.
“He was in his first year of college.” Amal explained. “What enemies could an eighteen year old have?”
Kathy nodded her head.
“Probably true,” she admitted. “I am just trying to explore everything because I have absolutely nothing to go on. If it was personal, then it probably has nothing to do with my case. If not, then I can keep looking and maybe find some answers. I'm just exploring everything.”
“Is that wise to be so young and spending so much time exploring these things?” Noni asked giving John a conciliatory smile. Kathy was starting to believe Mrs. Gallot wanted to be the one to console John.
“Easy, girl,” Marcie spoke softly into Kathy's head. Keep your control.
Kathy gave an extra wide smile.
“It's not an obsession or anything,” Kathy explained. “We operate a campground and have off season time to fill up. I thought of maybe trying to find out more about my abduction during our down time and hoping that maybe I would get some answers along the way.”
“I see,” Amal gave John a new look. He smiled because he now saw John more as an equal than a young man intruding in his house. “So, you own your own business, then?” Amal asked.
“Yes,” John answered. “WE own a small campground that serves the Summer tourist season. Our down time was coming up and Kathy suggested we try doing this search. Seemed a reasonable request since she has never had the resources before now to undertake it.”
“We understand,” Noni spoke. “We owned a small neighborhood grocery store for years. Now, Amal operates a chain of grocery stores for a conglomerate that only wants to control everything.”
“Please.” Amal stopped his wife's description of her feelings as well as his employment.
“It's not as bad as all that,” Amal smiled, diffusing the tension he had created with his plaintive plea.
Noni gave her husband a stiff look that said she thought it was.
“Well, it's not an ideal corporation to work for but it pays the bills and then some.” He motioned to the house surrounding them.
“And it gives Amal a place to hide and work away his grief since the accident.” Noni added.
“Is it still painful after all these years?” Kathy asked sincerely.
“Yes,” Amal answered for both of them. “Someone hit our child and killed him. They took him from us but more than that, they stopped his future, our future. We will never get to see the man he would have become. We will never get to see the family he would have raised. It is like a part of our life was stolen and all the police can say is how sorry they are.”
“I think I understand some of that,” Kathy spoke soothingly. Her brilliant smile was still there, inviting everyone to be her friend, but it had a subdued, friendly but also understanding look. “I watched my mom deal with the looks and empty words from others for years. I think that is why I became a police officer. No one else in my family ever was. I wanted to help people find closure in events like this.”
“Have you?” Noni needed some hope to grab onto. The conversation was dredging up old, painful memories.
“For some,” Kathy admitted. “I did not see a lot of this type of crime in our small community, but in smaller things, I helped. At least I hoped it was help. People said it was, anyway.”
Kathy had a way of saying things that made people want to affirm her before she had ever finished. John had noticed it from the beginning. Kathy was a person who invited other people into her life and then drew them into her plans for making the world a better place, starting with her and them. He saw that Emil's parents were no different. They were being pulled into Kathy's world and bringing their own world with them. He felt that dark thing clouding in the back of his mind again. He had gone all day without even thinking about it. Now it was back. He could not say what it was, but something was wrong. They were treading on dangerous ground and something in the spiritual planes understood it. He was getting a feeling that had nothing to do with his spiritual prepubescence. It was the whole can of worms thing, they were opening up. People's pain sometimes took them to dark places. Maybe that was what he was sensing.
“Very close,” Marcie interrupted John's thoughts. It surprised him to remember she and Emil were still there. This had to be hard on Emil, too. Seeing his parents again, like this.
“Close how?” He asked Marcie in his head, forgetting how much he normally avoided asking her things because she always made him feel like he owed her something afterward.
“In the spiritual plane, we can see darkness or the things of the Dark coming upon the horizon sometimes. Some of us can see them better than others. Apparently you can see it even though you have not yet crossed over to our plane. The connection you do have must be strong enough to give you the sight even though you are still actually in the human plane.” Marcie explained.
“So, what am I seeing? Something bad about to happen?” John pressed for more.
“Not exactly.” Marcie told him. “Though the Dark does represent bad things, evil things, seeing it coming only means it is in the area, not that something is happening.”
“But it could be?” John asked.
“Not like a fortune teller, you understand,” Marcie went on. “More like a rain gauge. When it happens in the plane you are concerned with, you will get a sense that it is there and the way it affects you will give you an impression of how bad it is. Ordinary bad decisions, made by ordinary people, will hardly generate any notice from you. But, let a serial killer or a mass murderer or some evil entity who does not belong in your plane get within your perception range, and your alarms will go off like bells in a firehouse.”
“Thanks,” John told her.
“Wow. I think you really meant that.” Marcie kidded him.
“We would love to tell you something that helped you get the answers you seek,” Amal spoke for him and his wife, drawing John back to the physical plane.
“I appreciate that,” Kathy nodded. “I have met so many wonderful people on this search. I am amazed so many bad things can happen to such great people.”
“The rain falls on the just and the unjust.”
Noni quoted a scripture John had heard his dad use many times. Funny how people used God's description of how good things happen to everyone, even the bad people in the bible, and the only way people know how to repeat it is in an exactly r
eversed position, to explain away some evil and why it happened. He had thought that maybe Amal and Noni were Muslim by their names so he was surprised to hear her quote a scripture from his bible. He wondered if the Koran had a similar passage that he was now relating as his bible quote when she meant it as one of her quotes from the Koran. He made a mental note to ask Emil about it later. Hadn't thought about religion as being relevant in the other planes, seeing as how they were all directly in touch with the Creator of Life.
“We were Muslim originally,” Emil offered in John's head. “Parents converted when I was born. Wanted to look more American. My dad is big on being an American.”
“Thanks,” John answered in his head.
“Well, I am going to be talking with police and reporters and others who looked into this accident,” Kathy told them. “If I discover anything of value, I will be sure to let you know.” Kathy left the door open for them to be in contact again.
“Do you expect to find anything?” Noni asked, hopeful.
“Never can tell.” Kathy smiled her winning smile, the one that had captured John's heart. “I am not looking at this as a crime with a certain result needed. Because I am just looking for anything that will lead me anywhere, I have a better than average chance of seeing something others have missed.”
Both parents nodded their head though neither of them held out much hope that Kathy's hit or miss system would yield any results for them. After all, she was on her own search.
“We wish you well in your search.” Noni smiled. There was a hidden pain there, behind the school girl attitude and the better than average manner of dress. It was the real pain of a mother who had come to hope this meeting would yield answers.
“Keep the faith,” Kathy told them. “It was other stories that led me to you, so who knows where something can lead.” She lied to give them hope. It did not feel like hope. It felt like grabbing on to a rope as one slid over the edge of the roof and hoping it was attached to something up above. Hoping there was still some hope. That was where Emil's parents were. Hoping that maybe Kathy held some hope, but not daring to hope they had placed their hope in anything real.
