“Oh, Dev, I’m serious. There is something about Steve that he is concealing. Yes, it could very well be insecurity, but I don’t think he should give us the responsibility for his well-being and use our home as his only sanctuary.”
“I’ll talk to him tomorrow, Katie. There is truth in what you’re saying.”
The phone rang, surprising them both. Kate went to the phone and answered. “Yes Jeff, of course,” she said.
Five minutes later, Jeff was at the door and Kate led him into the kitchen where the coffee was brewing.
“I know it’s late, but I’m out doing rounds and saw your lights on. Kate, you’ve agreed to meet with Eleanor Gaither tomorrow for an assessment, so I hate to bother you and Dev with this tonight, but there’s another problem arising from the murder case. I’ve got Deputy Purdy on special patrol but wanted you to know the particulars,” Jeff said apologetically.
He went on to describe the scarecrow sightings and his interviews with the two young witnesses.
“I’m afraid we have a situation that will escalate rapidly if we don’t catch this joker. I could use some advice, maybe an idea of the type of personality I should be looking for. As it stands right now, I have a list of local and regional troublemakers from the twelve to twenty age group, numbering around forty. They have varying degrees of offenses, but nothing similar to this. We could be dealing with a new entity, not on the list. Word of the sightings will probably surface tomorrow. I believe a pattern has begun and Halloween is next Friday night.”
“Jeff, it’s not uncommon for a kid in need of attention to latch onto something that is already getting attention, like the scarecrow murder headlines. From what you’ve described, it’s too early to tell if he’s acting alone. I say he because it is most likely a male around age sixteen or slightly younger. If it would help, I’ll go over your list and give you my impressions, and produce an initial profile for you by tomorrow,” Dev replied.
“Thanks, Dev. That would be a big help. Kate, are you okay with this? I’d like your input, too.”
“Don’t worry, Jeff. Dev has a better understanding of adolescent behavior than I do. But thank you for asking. I’ll stick to helping with scarecrow research and assessing your adult suspect, Eleanor Gaither. I’ve been thinking about how fortunate we are to have each other to call upon without reservation. I think we’ve each known what it is like to face problems alone.”
Farley replied, “You’re right, Kate. I had to learn from a very wise old woman how to ask for help.”
Kate laughed, knowing he was referring to Mamma Phoebe.
Goodnights were said and Farley went out to his cruiser. Instead of driving back down the hill to town, he followed Church Street along the windy ridge until it dead-ended into Columbine, and then turned right. It occurred to him that the scarecrow sightings had one thing in common; no one had seen the straw-stuffed figure come or go. At night, he had the cover of darkness, but during the daylight hours he would have been seen unless coming or going from the ridges on this side of town.
Farley had instructed Purdy to patrol the general Serena area. He would patrol this concentrated area as often as possible in the hours between sundown and midnight. He drove around for another hour, all the while recognizing the futility of this kind of search. It relied on the pursuant making the mistake of crossing the road and being caught in the headlights. With any warning of an approaching vehicle, the heavy foliage and trees on either side of the road provided all the camouflage needed to hide in an instant, even on a moonlit night. He’d have to catch him another way, unless very lucky.
A movement alongside the road caught Farley’s attention. He felt a tingling sensation on his forearms and slowed to a stop. He reached for his tactical flashlight, got out of the cruiser and scanned his surroundings with the high beam. Rustling leaves pulled his attention to a patch of bramble, where upon closer inspection, two frightened creatures sat in wide-eyed paralysis.
He stepped back as the panicked pair of raccoons darted across the road in front of him and scurried up the embankment, disappearing into underbrush. He stared after them and became momentarily fixated on a thicket of laurel. He took a step forward and started to raise his flashlight beam. Suddenly, his emergency beeper signaled a 911 emergency.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
MEGAN WAS LOOKING FORWARD TO Monday morning. She felt like a new woman, refreshed, revived, and refocused. She thought this must be how people felt when they had a religious conversion. For as long as she could remember she’d felt tainted, tarnished, and victimized. She’d seen her talent as pure and herself as contaminated. When that contamination seeped into her talent last week, she’d felt sickened, unable to function, and feared she’d reached the end of her career.
Buddy had shown her kindness she hadn’t thought she deserved. But it had prompted her decision to remain in the suite and reject the path she’d been taking. She’d made the call to Richard, begging his forgiveness, asking that he extend her apologies to cast and crew. He’d taken her to the winery for a private meeting with Penelope Cather, and in those hours with her she had learned many things.
Miss Pen had listened to her story; the painful truthful one she had never revealed. The early molestations endured at the hands of older men, the years of promiscuity with younger ones, the shameful abuse she’d taken and kept secret, the disconnection between her self-image and her external beauty. In the presence of this remarkable woman, she’d felt caught in a spell of unimaginable warmth, as though wrapped in a cocoon, feeling both calm and exhilarated.
She’d almost told her about Zack. She’d left it at her most recent abusive relationship, which she blamed for her fragile state of mind. Yet she wondered if Miss Penn could see through her, sense there was more to her story. The quiet stillness of the woman had compelled her to keep talking and talking until there was nothing left to tell. But she hadn’t. She’d been too afraid.
Miss Penn was the one who had stopped her, taking her in hand to the window over-looking the vineyards, which seemed to stretch out for miles beyond a sparkling stream. She’d pointed to a peak that rose like a dark shadow above the mountain range and told her about the waterfall that fed the stream and its tributaries. She guided her eyes to one of them and to an ancient cabin that sat beyond a field of grass beyond the rows of vines.
“I’d like you to meet my sister, Megan. There’s a path we can take if you’ll follow.”
Of course, she had followed and was led to the cabin where she met Mamma Phoebe and was left in her care.
“Sit down here my child and drink your tea. I will tell you a story, and when I do, you will become the story, and that story will become part of your soul and your spirit. It is not enough to play the part of the girl, Evangeline, who I once knew. You must inhabit her spirit for her spirit is strong, although she is at rest. I will call upon it to help you bring her story to life. You are the image of her in many ways, but she was protected from the world and you were not. She fell victim because of her innocence and you fell victim because of your worldliness. But she lost her life and you will find new life through her.
“Listen child and I will tell you how she was as a child. Her father was a tyrant and my only neighbor. We shared the stream, part of which you followed to get here. She came with her wooden bucket for water each day and I would see her and talk with her. She was a child of nature and could sing like the birds. She danced along the waters and bathed in the pool beneath the shimmering blue falls. She was an evensong child, sneaking out to the falls to gaze at the moon and the starlight.
“The Raven Brook Falls were her escape from the harsh environment ruled by her father. When her mother died well before her time, she was left to find love in the arms of a stranger. He was a man of great power who loved her beauty, but used her and cast her aside, as did her father when he found out. I found her dying by the very stream upon which she had danced. It seems her death is now a back-story to the legend her father has become. Y
ou could make it more than that.
“It is not my desire to talk of her death or the manner in which she died. It is essential that you know the way she lived and how she lived if you are to become her. In her life, she had no ability to fight the forces against her. I had the means to help her and could not, forbidden as I was by her father to aid her in any way. That was the way here. I could not cross that stream onto the McCabe property or interfere in any way with Evangeline. I would have been shot or accused of witchcraft, if truth be told.”
Megan had stayed at the cabin until dusk, when Miss Pen returned to take her back to the winery. That night she’d fallen asleep in the queen-sized bed at the lodge and woke twelve hours later on Sunday morning. She’d gone into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. The necklace she’d been given to wear, made of a special blend of herbs and patchouli, hung low on her bosom from a necklace of finely woven twine.
She’d stood erect before the mirror and held her chin high, thinking of Evangeline. She’d made a poetic promise to her in that moment.
“I am with you, you are with me
You are the roots, I am the tree
You are the spirit flowing inside,
I will protect and I will abide
Truth will be told, setting you free
I am with you, you are with me.”
After which she’d placed the call to Richard to discuss changes to the script.
Zack circled the parking lot again. He finally grew tired and decided to go home. The lodge was a virtual fortress, with staff paid extra to enforce security measures for their exclusive clientele. He had no desire to get arrested or waste time trying to gain access to her suite.
Besides, he thought she might come to her senses by Monday morning and start flirting with him again. He also had a situation with Margaret. He had roughed her up the night before out of the frustration Megan had caused. He was worried she might be on the verge of throwing him out, temporarily, and was in no mood to find another place to sleep. He’d be with her tonight and, hopefully, that would keep her happy for a while. If things didn’t pan out with his movie career, she was the only meal-ticket he had to fall back on.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
ON MONDAY MORNING, NEWS OF another scarecrow sighting spread like wildfire. Farley had spent late Sunday night at the Miller residence taking a statement from the hysterical fifteen-year-old Miller girl. Her younger siblings were terrified and her parents outraged. Her father had been adamant that a peeping Tom had frightened his daughter, not the supernatural thing she claimed to have seen.
What she had described was a monstrous scarecrow with red hot, coal black eyes, a hideous stitched up mouth, which he pressed against the window pane while using his straw hands to pull at the window sill, trying to open it to get to her. She said he appeared to be floating in mid-air and disappeared like a ghost when she screamed.
The next morning, Farley was ready to begin questioning every adolescent in the vicinity of Church Street, and then work his way to the outskirts of Serena. He shortened the list to adolescents in the age group Dev had suggested, which brought the number down to eight in the targeted area, growing to twenty-three living within close proximity of town. He planned to start visiting their homes after school to check out the environment and family dynamics. He knew many of the boys personally and had already scratched off several as unlikely. It was a small town with few delinquents. Most of them changed for the better or worse with maturity. He was looking for the unusual in this case, something that didn’t fit with the problematic norm.
Farley had other business to attend to first. Kate was expected at ten o’clock to meet with Eleanor Gaither for the agreed upon assessment. He had also arranged to meet with Richard Sherwood for lunch at the McCabe compound. He checked his watch and realized Aura Lee was late for work. He was about to call her cell phone when she came rushing in.
“I am sorry Chief, but it could not be helped. I’ve had one phone call after another this morning and could not get out the door. My friend, Rhonda Corley, called first. She’s on the School Board, as you know, and wanted to know ‘off the record’ what we are doing about the fiend roaming the streets of Serena. Then my friend, Caroline Tindal, called. You know Caroline, she works in the principal’s office at the high school. She got a call from Genevieve Miller this morning, excusing Sherry because she is in a state of shock over an intruder incident at their home last night. Caroline thought I might know about it and called me right away. What is going on, Chief?”
Farley told her about the incident at the Miller home and showed her his list. He asked that she start with the first four names and find out what she could about each family by mid-afternoon. He instructed her to put her workload on hold and attend to this investigative task as a matter of urgency. Aura Lee was in her glory. Within minutes, she was out the door to canvas Main Street. She’d stop along the way to talk to everyone she met, including friendly chats with business owners, and a final stop at the Serena Grill. Her inquiries would be couched in casual conversation, innocent questions, and curious concerns. Upon her return, she’d spend the remainder of the time allotted making calls and preparing an oral report that would surpass anything he could accomplish in a week.
Kate arrived shortly after Aura Lee departed on her mission. He escorted her back to his office, where they had a brief consultation. Deputy Purdy had been assigned to shuttle Eleanor from home and back. When they arrived, Farley introduced Eleanor to Kate, who led her back to the office and closed the door for the private interview.
He was impressed with how quickly Kate’s genuine warmth had put Eleanor at ease. He updated Purdy on the Sherry Miller incident, told him to man the front office during Mrs. Gaither’s assessment, then after taking her home, to go off-duty until the evening shift. He needed Purdy rested and alert for the days and nights ahead.
Farley drove on out to the film set, taking his time along the access road. Although the road was long, there was no place to turn off and hide a vehicle. The road was bordered on both sides by dense forest with a deep trench-like gully alongside one side of the road. When Farley turned left at the fork, he once again scrutinized each side of the road for signs of entry into the grassy fields, but there were none. He thought the Ranger could have been camouflaged in some way and parked nearer to the parking lot or gate. After all, he’d been working on a movie set for weeks and could have learned a few tricks of the trade. Farley had no doubt that Tanner had hidden the vehicle someway, and if he had, for an unscrupulous reason.
The entry gate to the filming location was open, so he parked the cruiser in the lot and walked on up the rise. There was activity going on in every direction. Farley tried to take it all in, forming a mental picture of the setting. The rebuilt structures were a vast improvement from their previous condition. Purvis McCabe had lived a clannish lifestyle in a ramshackle homestead, hiding his income from a thriving moonshine trade, land rich while projecting poverty.
Farley noticed Steven Frye in the distance, scribing away on his notebook, intently focused and unaware of his presence. He caught a glimpse of Megan Murphy in deep discussion with Buddy Larson, both in period costume. It was an eerie sight to behold, a window into the past. There was no sign of Zack Tanner.
Farley was met by a production assistant and led to Sherwood’s portable office, a small van with an attached rollout awning, which shaded two fold-up chairs and a small table. He was invited to sit in one of the chairs to wait for Sherwood. From this vantage point, his view of the set was obstructed by cameras, lighting equipment, gear and other paraphernalia, but filming had stopped for the time being. He heard laughter coming from some of the crew and was surprised by the lighthearted atmosphere. Sherwood had said it would be an important day of shooting, but had been gracious about his intended visit, suggesting they talk over lunch.
Sherwood suddenly appeared, “Chief Farley, my apology for keeping you waiting.”
Farley stood and extended his
hand. The firm handshake and forceful magnetism of Sherwood’s persona impressed him. Farley surmised Sherwood’s appeal as reminiscent of Ernest Hemingway; remarkably handsome for his age but perhaps as vulnerable. If accurate, he could understand why Sherwood had been drawn to Penelope. As if on cue, she entered the scene, and in that second he saw a visible change in Sherwood. It was the look of a schoolboy. Farley almost smiled.
“Chief Farley. How nice to see you again. I’ve had lunch specially prepared for your visit. We have coffee and tea being brewed, and iced sweet tea. Which would you prefer?”
“Sweet tea please, Miss Pen. Won’t you join us?”
Sherwood brightened, but Pen declined, “I cannot you see, I must get back to oversee my flock,” referring to her restaurant trainees, one of whom would be serving their lunch. When she turned to walk away, Sherwood stared after her until she disappeared from view, then looked at Farley and said, “I’ve never known anyone like her, Farley. Is she for real?”
“I think you know that she is,” Farley replied.
Their luncheon discussion lasted almost an hour. Sherwood presented a positive picture of the film’s progress to date and said they were running on schedule. He was honest about the previous week, and the remarkable change in his star since then. He referred to it as a bump in the road that led to the magnificent performance she’d given that morning, much to the relief of everyone. He cited no problems with cast and crew. He did express concern over working Steven Frye so hard, expecting him to write a complete overhaul of the storyline. He confided in Farley about Miss Pen taking Megan meet her sister, the obvious effect it had on her, prompting a revitalization of her role.
The Silent Scream of the Straw Man Page 11
