“His brother’s worried about him.”
“I would be too.”
“Hopefully, we’ll find him and not his body. It’s a helpless feeling when you’re looking for a guy and he’s nowhere to be found.”
“We’ll find him.”
“Anything special to pass on?”
“Not really. Pretty routine calls all day. I served a couple of warrants. Oh, and I finally found good old Pauly Swanson.” Roth smiled.
“Where?”
“Walking home from town. Correction—staggering home from town.”
“Pauly intoxicated?” I kidded.
“Currently sleeping it off in a cell is my guess.”
“Man. They might as well forget about collecting all the money he owes the county in court fees and fines. It is one vicious circle. We arrest him, he goes to court, the judge fines him, and court fees are attached. He’s released. Drinks what money he gets from Social Security so he’s in arrears again, and we start the process all over.”
“One vicious circle, all right. Eventually they’ll either waive the fees or sentence him. Wouldn’t be a bad thing to dry him out for a month or two. And get some decent food into him.”
I raised my eyebrows and nodded. “I better get on the road. I got some bad news to deliver. Alvie Eisner died, and I need to tell her granddaughter.”
“You having a party later to celebrate?”
I shrugged. “Two things make me a little sad. Knowing Rebecca will be hurting, and she’ll be the only one grieving. Well, maybe Eisner’s mother will. But like you say, people will celebrate, if anything.”
“I would if I were you. Celebrate.” Roth stood, grabbed his things, and we walked out together.
I needed to tell Smoke, my friend Sara, my mother, my grandparents, my brother, and even Nick about Alvie, but my phone rang on the drive to the Brenner house before I could start. Gregory Trippen. Finally.
“Sergeant Aleckson.”
“Hi, it’s Greg Trippen.”
“I was actually starting to worry about you.”
“Sorry. I just woke up. I hoped I would crash, and I really did. Kind of surprised me I could sleep that long. Eighteen hours.”
Eighteen hours? “You were awake for a few days. No wonder. How are you feeling—any better?”
“I am. I’m surprised. I didn’t expect to, but knowing I’m here for Jeff, whenever he shows up, and having your help has helped me relax somehow.”
“I’m glad to hear that.”
“So what’s next? What should we do now?”
There were many questions and countless issues to resolve.
“Gregory, I’m tied up with some things. Why don’t you take tonight to unwind, relax as best you can, and we’ll meet tomorrow. Unless your brother makes his appearance before that.”
“Are you sure? You’ll let me know if you find Jeff?”
“I will phone you immediately.”
“Okay. Then I’ll help get my buddy on a flight back home. As luck would have it, he got a call about a job interview. They want to see him Monday, so he’s anxious to get going.”
“That’s good news for him. You take it easy, and we’ll see you tomorrow.”
I pulled in the Brenners’ driveway and parked.
“Six oh eight, Winnebago County.”
“Six oh eight?”
“I’ll be out at Three twenty Farmland Avenue on a follow-up.” As I spoke, Jean opened the door and waved me to come in.
“Copy, at fifteen eighteen.”
I knew Rebecca would be excited when she got off the bus and saw my squad car. I hoped that would ease the pain of my news a little. I scooted into the Brenners’ house and hovered in the entry until Jean asked me to sit. I took a chair by a window that had a clear view of the road.
“You’ll hear the bus anywhere you sit.” Jean smiled and handed me a cup of mint tea. I took a sip to wet my drying mouth then set it on a side table.
“Have you thought of what to say?” she asked.
“I’ve learned the direct way is usually the best way.”
Jean nodded. She was right. I heard the bus before I saw it. My heart warmed when Rebecca and the Brenner children jumped from the bus step. Happy children. And Rebecca was one of them.
I waited to stand up until the kids burst through the door to appear more relaxed than I felt.
“Sergeant Corky!” Rebecca called.
Tina and Justin were almost as excited. I had discovered they were proud to have a cop for a friend, and my squad car sitting in their driveway earned them points with the school-bus crowd.
Rebecca ran to me and threw her thin arms around me, bumping her elbow on my flashlight holder.
“Ouch. Did that hurt?”
“No, it’s okay.”
I returned her hug, then ruffled Tina’s hair and smiled at Justin.
“Tina and Justin, you head into the kitchen for your snack and wait for Rebecca there,” Jean instructed.
They both looked disappointed, but obeyed without protest.
“My grandma?” Rebecca asked, her little face scrunching up with worry. She was very bright and wise beyond her years.
I fought back tears as I nodded. She threw her arms around me again and sobbed. I steered her over to the couch and sat her down next to me. Jean Brenner sat on her other side.
“Does it hurt? To die?”
A question I obviously couldn’t answer. I could only guess. “I don’t think dying hurts. It might hurt right before. You know, if you have a heart attack, or if you’re injured. But your grandma?” Her eyes widened. “She was on medication to stop the pain, so I don’t think it hurt her.”
Rebecca nodded. “What about her funeral?”
I met Jean’s eyes. “She didn’t want a big funeral, so we’ll have a small, private service. How does that sound?”
Rebecca’s mouth quivered when she tried to smile.
“Do you know what cremation is?”
“Uh huh.”
“That’s what your grandma wanted.” More quivering. “So they’ll bring her ashes back to us, and we’ll have a service for her in a few days. Okay?”
She nodded and leaned her head against my chest.
“Rebecca, I’m so sorry to give you this sad news and leave right away, but I’m on duty.”
“I know. It’s okay. I’m glad my grandma’s not hurting anymore.”
I gave her a last squeeze, stood, kissed the top of her head, blinked a goodbye to Jean, and slipped out before I got too swallowed up in sympathy for Rebecca and all she had been through in her short life.
“Six oh eight, Winnebago County.”
“Go ahead, Six oh eight.”
“I’m ten-eight.” Back in service.
“At fifteen thirty-seven. There’s a call pending for you. I’ll send it to your screen.”
“Ten-four.” It was a fraud report from the First National Bank in Rockwell.
Smoke phoned me a second later. “I heard you go out at the Brenners’ address. Everything okay with Rebecca?”
“I was going to call you. Alvie died.”
“How’d Rebecca take it?”
“Pretty well. She’s had months of no contact with her, so that’s got to help some.”
“And you? How are feeling about now?”
“Sad for Rebecca. For myself? Right now, I’m numb. It’s surreal.”
“It’ll come.”
“Smoke, do you have time to notify Alvie’s mother? I’m on my way to Rockwell and could be tied up for a while.”
“I can do that.”
“Thanks.”
I spent an hour with the bank manager, gathering the information to investigate his claims and collecting the evidence that backed those claims. My report would get turned over to the detective who specialized in financial crimes.
I phoned Sara Speiss on my way back to the office. She was a probation officer for Winnebago County and my best friend after Smoke. She was also one of Alvi
e Eisner’s intended victims. We had come close to dying together. Not the way you want to spend time with your friend.
“Hey, Sara.”
“Corky, you heard the news about Eisner? Word is spreading through the courthouse.”
“I bet.”
“I thought I’d feel happy when she died, but I don’t feel much of anything.”
“Same here.”
“You’re off tomorrow, right?”
“Yes and no. I have to meet with someone about an open case, so I’ll go into work for a while.”
“You got dinner plans?”
“Mom is cooking, and my system is craving a good meal. You are always welcome to join us.”
“Tempting, but I’ll pass so you can have a little mother-daughter time. How about Friday night?”
“Sure. No date, huh?”
“Casey’s working. You cops have awful schedules.” Casey was an officer with the Oak Lea Police Department.
“There are advantages to working weekends and having days off during the week.”
“Keep telling yourself that.”
“You want to go out, or will it be the usual, take-out and a movie?”
“You make us sound so boring.”
“Hey, comfortable is not all bad. Saves making a new decision every week.”
“All right then, I vote for comfortable. I’ll get the food, you get the movie.”
“Wow, you are shaking things up. I usually get the food. My place or yours?”
“Yours. We’ll have a toast at the scene of the crime. We’ll celebrate surviving Alvie’s attack.”
“Maybe we should invite the ones who saved us. Smoke, Brian Carlson, Todd Mason—”
“Mandy Zubinski, in case you decided to exclude her. You know, I think that’s actually a good idea.”
“I was half kidding, but why not? It’ll be casual. If they don’t have plans and want to stop by, fine. If not, no big deal.”
“I’ll get the champagne and one of those party trays from Charlie’s Grocery Store. You know, with the meats and cheeses. Maybe some shrimp.”
“That’d be good. What time should I say?”
“Seven? I’ll come over at six and help you with whatever.”
“Sounds good.”
18:The Coven
The three coven leaders, Cyril, Dieter, and Roman, waited for the fourth to join them at the outdoor temple that evening. Dieter lit two kerosene lamps that hung from poles. They preferred firelight to an artificial alternative, and the lamps provided adequate illumination.
Noris stepped from the darkness into their circle.
“You brought the copies?” Cyril asked.
Noris nodded and handed them to Dieter and Roman.
“The dagger looks like the one we had custom made in my old country for Sparrow,” Dieter said.
Roman nodded. “Yes, it does. It’s difficult to be certain from this black and white copy, but it does look like it.”
“I jotted in the colors of the jewels on my copy from the original color copy in the squad room.”
Noris passed the sheet to High Priest Cyril, and they all took turns studying and imagining the color version.
“I’m almost positive it’s his dagger. And what about the man, Jeffrey Trippen?” Roman asked.
“He looks like Jeffrey Manthes, all grown up,” Dieter observed.
Cyril nodded. “I can only think of two explanations. Either Sparrow lied to us and knew where the family has been all these years, and he’s bringing Jeffrey back for a sacrificial ritual. Or, the family stole Sparrow’s dagger when they left, and Jeffrey is on his way back to find Sparrow with some silly intention that he can hurt him.”
“Jeffrey was a weakling. I can’t imagine him going after anyone. Especially Sparrow. He would never have been one of us,” Noris said.
“Who was it at the sheriff’s department that took the report on Jeffrey?” Cyril asked.
“Sergeant Aleckson. I checked, and she hasn’t filed a report on it yet. Either it was an anonymous call, like a friend who feels it’s his duty to report it but doesn’t want to be involved enough to give his name, or it could be his friend or a family member who gave more detailed information than is listed on the attempt to locate.”
“Find out who it is as soon as possible,” Cyril ordered.
“Of course. What about Sparrow?”
Cyril looked down his long nose. “It wouldn’t be wise to incur Sparrow’s wrath by questioning him. Whatever Jeffrey intends to do with that dagger, Sparrow must be aware of it. He has legions working for him.
“We’ll do our part to learn everything we can and take the appropriate measures when the time comes. If we learn there is a potential threat for Sparrow, we’ll talk to him then, ensure that he knows. Is there any other business?”
When no one answered, he said, “Then we will ask our Holy Master to send his forces of darkness to help us with this matter . . .”
19
Gramps Brandt and I were in his fishing boat bobber fishing for sunfish. My Grandpa and Grandma Aleckson were sitting on lawn chairs on shore, waving at us. My mother was there too, busy doing something. Gramps pulled in a sunnie and smiled. As the fish dangled from his line, dripping water into the boat, my phone rang.
I woke up. No boat. No family. No fish. Just a ringing phone. My work cell.
“Sergeant Aleckson.” I forgot to clear my voice, and it was full of frogs.
“Oh sorry, I bet you were sleeping.” Gregory Trippen. I glanced at the clock on my bed stand. It was nine ten in the morning.
“It’s fine, really. What’s up?”
“I got a call from Jeff a while ago.”
I threw back the covers and sat up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed until my feet touched the floor. “What’d he say?”
“Same thing he said three days ago. He’s on his way to Winnebago County to, you know—” Gregory’s voice cracked.
“Anything else, like where he is now? How he’s getting here?”
“He rambled for a minute, something about doing a few things he’d wanted to, having a little time before Beltane’s Eve, Walpurgisnacht.”
I stumbled over to the foot of my bed where I had dropped my uniform on the floor the night before, and pulled my memo pad and pen out of my shirt pocket.
“What is that?”
“You mean Walpurgisnacht?”
I scribbled the word phonetically, as best I could.
“Is that German? Nacht? Night? What does it mean, when is it?”
“I’m not sure. I remember hearing the term from my stepfather and at one of the rituals. One where a woman was . . . and then . . .” He stopped a moment. “I never looked the word up. I didn’t want to know.”
“Greg, let’s set a time to meet. We’ll figure this out.”
“I’ve tried to put it all out of my mind.”
“Very understandable. How about noon, one?”
“I don’t want to meet at the sheriff’s office with a lot of people around.”
“That’s fine. I’ll see if Detective Dawes is free to join us. How about we plan to meet you in the lobby of your motel at noon? I’ll call you back if that doesn’t work. All right?”
“Noon, okay.”
I left a message for Smoke, then changed into jogging pants and a tee shirt, grabbed the mace from my duty belt, and headed downstairs. I got my small Smith and Wesson out of the gun safe in my den office and zipped my cell phone, mace, and gun into my pants pocket. It had been my habit since the past autumn when I was attacked while jogging not far from my home.
I started a pot of coffee and took off for a short run while it brewed. A gentle breeze stirred the brisk, fresh smelling air around me as I ran. As I made my way past my mother’s house, then Gramps’ house on one side of the road, and thought about my grandparents who lived on the opposite side, I reflected on my good fortune in having a fairly normal family.
What if our widowed mother had married so
meone who threatened and abused John Carl and me behind her back? Our childhoods would have been stolen, like they were stolen from Gregory and Jeffrey Trippen. Our lives would have gone in far different directions.
I was almost home, pushing pretty hard, when my phone rang. “Smoke,” I managed.
“You’re running, I hope, and not dying.”
I slowed so I could talk more normally. “Just finishing. You got my message?”
“Yup. Noon works for me. Why don’t we meet in the department parking lot at eleven fifty? We’ll take my car and talk on the way.”
“You got something?”
“Working on it.”
“See you then.”
I clicked my phone shut and went in the side door by the garage to my kitchen. After drinking a tall glass of water, I poured a cup of coffee and took it into the small den office area off the living room. I opened the computer armoire my mother had given me and settled in to do some research.
There were several sites which listed calendars for satanic rituals. Walpurgisnacht, also known as Beltane, was on April thirtieth and one of the most important nights for Satanists. A night for blood rituals and human sacrifice.
Blood rituals and human sacrifice?
According to the calendar, April had a number of dates listed for rituals, especially if Easter was in the month of April. The nineteenth through the twenty-fifth was designated for sacrifice preparation. A time to kidnap, hold captive, and ceremonially prepare a person for human sacrifice.
I printed the calendar, then scanned site after site, gleaning bits and pieces. There were countless stories by people who had been raised in cults and eventually escaped.
I read about Anton LaVey, the man who had started the Church of Satan. He was an atheist who was more interested in serving his own needs than anything else. He thought Satan was a symbol, not a deity. So why did he write the satanic bible and call his hedonistic beliefs the Church of Satan?
I picked up my forgotten cup and took a swallow of cold coffee. Eleven o’clock. Ninety minutes had disappeared. I dashed upstairs, showered in minutes, pulled my hair in a ponytail, did a quick blow dry of the ends, and dressed in a light blue blouse, navy pants, and matching jacket. I attached my badge to a holder and secured it on the left side of my waistband. I pulled the pancake holster from a dresser drawer, clipped it on, retrieved my Glock from the bed stand, checked it, secured it in the holster, and hurried downstairs. I grabbed the calendar I had printed from the den office, and a banana and granola bar from the kitchen. A late breakfast.
An Altar by the River Page 9
