Two sergeants, both SWAT, announced they were at the location. “Okay, you guys get into position, and I’ll give the incoming sergeants the lowdown. If something happens before I get back there, move in. Carlson, you’re the command leader until I tap your shoulder. Go.”
Sergeants Roth and Hughes were armed with AR-15 assault rifles. I filled them in, pointing at designated spots on the car hood. “Roth, move to the far side, creep into the woods, and get as close to the clearing as possible. Hughes, you do the same on this side. I’ll inform Weber then take my position next to Mason. Then we storm in.”
After I let Weber in on the plan, I moved behind the cars, tapped Carlson on the shoulder, and slid in between him and Mason. Mason was two cars away. There was a better vantage point on that side with no trees to obstruct the view. The chanting had increased in intensity, and everyone’s attention was focused on Mandy. She was staring at the sky. The two men standing next to her, who faced our direction, had their heads down and their hoods kept the moonlight from hitting their faces.
Before I could give the command to move in, the man raised his head, lifted the hands gripping the dagger, and took a step closer to Mandy. I recognized him, but I didn’t believe it.
Deputy Devin Noris Stauder.
48: The Coven
Royce Sparrow was lying on the altar in the private temple of his Wellspring home. He prayed that Jeffrey was doing the same, wherever he was. Why had he agreed to come home, but then didn’t? Perhaps their Master did not want to wait for Walpurgisnacht and had taken him already.
The clock was positioned on the wall so it would be easy for Sparrow to read. Five minutes to midnight. The time was near.
When he didn’t return to work at the hospital, the staff would look through his desk and find the letter he had written to the hospital administrator. It spelled out his plans and where to find his body after his spirit had gone to its great reward.
As the last seconds ticked down, Sparrow lifted the dagger with its piercingly sharp blade to his arms’ length above his chest. He aimed for his heart, but a strike anywhere in his torso would do. If he didn’t die immediately, he would bleed to death eventually.
“My Lord and Master, I willingly give my body, soul, and spirit to you.”
The plunge drove the sharp point into the spot he had hoped, straight through his heart.
49
“Sheriff’s department, drop your weapon! One move and you’re dead!” I shouted.
My vision tunneled to the deputy holding the dagger. I didn’t need to see my team members to know they were moving in as fast as I was.
Time stopped.
The chanting stopped.
The group’s movement stopped.
Everything stopped.
Everything except the arms of the deputy clutching the dagger.
Mason’s shotgun blast exploded close to me. When the double-ought shell met its target on his chest, Stauder’s body jerked back. His blood sprayed out. Splatters landed on Mandy’s gown.
His arms flew up. The dagger dropped and caught somewhere in his robe. The momentum lifted his feet off the ground before gravity dropped him on his back.
The coven leader and the others were stunned.
My voice was amplified by the acoustics. “Everyone, hands on your heads where we can see them. Now! You two, with the bowl and goblet, drop those items on the ground. Now. And the three of you, back away from that table.”
We watched each nuance of their actions as they followed my orders.
I maintained a one-arm grip on my shotgun and depressed the call button on my radio. “Six oh eight, Winnebago County. We have one perpetrator down and are holding approximately twenty others at gunpoint.
“We need the coroner and paramedics, ASAP. ETA on the ambulance?” With adrenaline pumping through me, it was difficult to talk and breathe at the same time.
Jerry answered. “The paramedics should be there. They arrived a few seconds ago.”
“Tell them to drive down the path to the clearing.”
I wanted to go to Mandy. She was breathing and staring, but not moving. It seemed like an hour passed before everyone in the clearing had their hands on their heads and the paramedics got there. They rushed in with a hand-held stretcher. They set it on the ground, lifted Mandy off the table onto the stretcher, picked her up, and were gone in a flash.
“Everyone, follow each one of my instructions. We have nine guns trained on you, and if we lose sight of your hands even for a second, we will assume you are going for a weapon.
“You are all under arrest for the charge of attempted murder. Keep your hands on your head and get down on your knees,” I ordered.
It took a while for the few older ones to manage that.
“Now slowly raise your arms straight up, and keeping them above your head, get down and lie flat on your bellies. Hold that position until you hear different orders. Carlson and Weber, move in and take them into custody, one at a time,” I said.
Carlson handed me his shotgun, and I rested it against a car. They went over to the chant leader first. Weber kept his shotgun on the man’s head while Carlson pat searched him, applied handcuffs, then got him to his feet. When he stood, I saw it was Cyril Bishop. The coven’s ringleader.
“Ortiz,” I called and jerked my head to the right. He walked over. “Pull your squad car up here. You’ll take him in.” I grabbed Carlson’s shotgun and handed it to Ortiz. “Put this in your trunk for now. You got any flex cuffs in your car?”
He nodded. “I’ll get ’em.”
Smoke joined us, pistol in hand. He went straight to Stauder’s body. Smoke turned, found my face, and shook his head. He holstered his weapon and told Carlson, “I’ll take him.” He walked over behind Bishop, latched onto his bicep, and walked him to the path.
Bishop’s black hair was waxed and shone in the moonlight. He sneered, looked around, and said, “You will all pay eternally for this.”
Smoke gave him a slight push. Ortiz was back by my side in a minute, handed me the bag of flex cuffs, then took Bishop’s other arm. Smoke and Ortiz secured Bishop in the squad car.
“Levasseur.” I signaled him over. “The next prisoner’s yours. Give Carlson your cuffs and get your car.”
When Carlson was done with number two, Smoke walked him to the path where he was met by Levasseur. Norwood took custody of the third and last of the leaders.
“Roth and Hughes, take over for Carlson and Weber.”
Roth handed his assault rifle to Carlson and changed places with him. Returning weapons and handcuffs to their rightful owners would take some sorting out when it was all done.
Sheriff Twardy and Chief Deputy Kenner arrived back to back. One’s exasperated-facial expression was a mirror image of the other’s. They stood over Stauder’s body for a drawn-out moment, but didn’t say anything. There were sixteen people on the ground with nothing to do but listen to anything we said.
Twardy and Kenner looked around, taking in the details of the scene. They walked over to me. “This could go on all night,” Twardy said.
“As long as it takes,” Kenner said.
“I’ll call Corrections, get somebody out here with their transport van. That holds six,” Twardy said.
“Good. I thought we could start putting two at a time in the squad cars, but I wanted to keep the three leaders separate.”
Without warning, a man stepped from the woods into the clearing. Mason was the first to yell, “Hands up!”
I blinked, thinking I was seeing things. “My God, it’s Jeffrey Trippen,” I said.
His head and beard had been shaved, but his little-boy-lost expression gave him away. He looked at the deputies pointing guns and the people on the ground, put his hands in the air, and started crying. “We couldn’t find it. We’ve been looking for the temple and finally saw the lights here.” It was a soft, female voice. Samantha.
I handed my shotgun to Smoke and made my way around the outer perimeter to
Jeffrey. I noticed the pack on his back. “Hello, I’m Corky, a friend of your brother Greg. He’s waiting for you in Oak Lea.”
He studied my face and his facial expression changed. “Greg? My brother? He said he’d never come back to Winnebago County.” He spoke in a man’s voice.
“I know, but he changed his mind when he heard you were in trouble. Jeffrey, let’s go call him and ask him to meet us at the hospital. You can talk to him. Okay?”
He nodded.
I remembered Dr. Fischer’s words. “Jeffrey, I want you to know you’re safe. We are here to help you, to keep you safe. That’s what we do. Keep people safe. Do you believe me?”
We looked each other in the eyes by the light of the moon and kerosene lamplight. I don’t know what he saw in mine, but I saw relief in his.
“I believe you.”
“I’ll take your backpack, and I’ll give it back later,” I said.
He nodded again, but had a wary look on his face. “I didn’t get here in time. I was supposed to be here for Walpurgisnacht.” And his birthday.
“You got here at just the right time. So we were here to help you, keep you safe. Turn around and I’ll grab your pack.”
He pulled his arms out of the straps as I lifted and held the bag. It was heavy, much heavier than I had expected. I wished I could remove the other heavy burdens from his back as easily.
“Let’s walk around the tree line to those cars. I’ll follow you.”
When we got there, I noticed Weber was keeping watch over three people who were bent over car hoods with their hands cuffed behind their backs. I handed Trippen’s backpack to Smoke. He unzipped it, removed a felt box about eighteen inches long and six inches wide, and gave it to Kenner, who held it, but didn’t open it.
Smoke pulled out other items: clothing, a toothbrush, a bar of soap. He took a last look inside, replaced the items, and handed it back to me.
Coroner Gordon Melberg arrived on the scene, and Twardy pointed to Stauder’s body. Melberg walked over to it, crouched down, and set his bag on the ground beside him.
“Okay if I give Jeffrey a ride to the hospital to meet his brother?” I asked.
“Sure. We’ll still be here when you get back,” Twardy said.
When we got to my squad car, I opened the back door for Jeffrey. “Climb in, and we’ll be at the hospital in about fifteen minutes.” He got in without protest, and we were on our way. I radioed Communications that I was transporting one to Oak Lea Memorial then phoned Gregory Trippen. He wept when I told him Jeffrey was safe. He said he would be at the hospital when we got there.
We met Gregory in the emergency room waiting area. Tears welled in my eyes, and a sense of relief flowed through me when Gregory embraced his brother and sobbed loudly. The doctors would check Jeffrey’s physical condition and take it from there. Gregory said he would call me in the morning. I told him later in the day would be better.
The nurse at the desk told me where to find Mandy. She was in the emergency room, the third curtained area down on the right. They were monitoring her condition.
“Mandy, are you awake?” I quietly asked.
She opened her eyes, turned her head to look at me, and attempted to smile. “Thank you.”
I went to the bed, picked up her hand, and squeezed gently. “Mandy, that is the most scared I have ever been. Ever.”
“They gave me drugs, and I could see and hear, but it was like I was paralyzed. Devin. I can’t believe I let him seduce me. I was lonely. He . . .”
“He can’t hurt you anymore.”
“They were going to kill me. They’re evil. They worship Satan. It was horrible, lying there, trying to move, thinking I was going to die. Devin was going to kill me.
“Then I heard you yell, and then the gunshot, and then blood flying above me, and landing on me. I knew a miracle had happened.”
I thought for a second. “It was kind of a miracle we were there. Gosh, Mandy, I wish I could stay with you longer, but we’ve got a real cluster at the scene.”
“It seemed like there were lots of people around me,” she said.
“We’ve got everyone in custody, but not everyone’s been transported.” I squeezed her hand a little tighter. “Are you ready for more good news? We found Jeffrey Trippen, safe and sound. He’s here, getting checked out by the docs.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Another miracle, I guess. Anyone call your family?” I said.
“Yeah, my sister’s on her way from the cities.”
“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow, Mandy.”
“Okay, and thanks isn’t enough for what you did.”
“Hey, just returning the favor.” I bent down, gave her a quick hug, and hurried out.
Dr. Melberg officially pronounced Devin Stauder dead, and two men from the Anderson Funeral Home in Oak Lea were there to transport his body. Deputy Schorn had crime lab detail that week and enlisted the other deputies’ help as he processed the scene. Everyone pitched in. It was three in the morning when we cleared. It would be hours before the jail had everyone booked and the reports were written.
When all the pieces of evidence were gathered, marked, and in the crime lab vehicle, we huddled together. I told them I had talked to Mandy and that her sister was with her. None of us would ever lose the horrifying image of her motionless body lying on that table. We went over and over the details, struggling to believe what we had witnessed. Devin Stauder was a Satanist. He was the dirty cop. The infiltrator. The spy. The Benedict Arnold. We repeated that a hundred times in different ways.
Todd Mason said he was feeling okay, but he knew it would hit him later. Sheriff Twardy took his shotgun, a routine procedure in officer-involved shootings. Mason would go on administrative leave after his reports were filed.
“Kenner, we don’t want to wait until Monday to execute those search warrants. We’ll get the judge to sign them first thing in the morning, before any family member has a chance to move anything. Sparrow wasn’t one of them here tonight, but we won’t wait for him to get back. We’ll search his house in Wellspring while we’re at it,” the sheriff said.
Kenner agreed. “I’ll phone the on-call judge at six.”
“And schedule a debriefing as soon as possible. Monday.”
Kenner nodded. “We better head back. We have a long night of writing reports ahead of us.”
We went to our vehicles, climbed in, and all drove to the office.
Smoke stopped by the squad room a little after six. “We’ve got four teams assembled, and we’re on our way to search the homes and businesses in Wellspring.”
I blinked a few times. “Good luck.”
Smoke was running on fumes. We all were.
It was seven when I finished dictating my reports and headed home. It had been a long time since I’d worked a sixteen-hour shift. And never a more eventful shift.
I fell into bed wondering how I’d fall asleep. The next thing I knew, my phone was ringing. Eventually the time on the digital clock came into focus. It read 2:15, but that meant nothing to me. Was it day or night?
“Hello?”
“Don’t you have to get to work?”
“Smoke. Good thing you called. I was dead to the world.”
“That’s what I’m gonna be in about ten minutes. We did the searches and finished the reports a few minutes ago. Are you ready for this?”
I wasn’t sure. “What?”
“We found Sparrow at his house in Wellspring. Dead. Looks like he spent more time there than at Saint Cloud. Had his own private altar area in the basement. Impaled himself with a dagger.”
“For real?”
“For very real. If I see another jeweled dagger in my life, it will be too soon.”
“Wow.”
“Bishop’s and Jenkins’ wives and sons were part of last night’s group, so that part was easy. We found the journals, and tons of other incriminating evidence, at all the scenes. They’re collected and being processed by dep
uties as we speak. Same with Munden’s.
“And we got a lot at Stauder’s house, too. Turns out the deceased Detective Miles Walden was his uncle, of all things. Passed on his evil ways to his nephew. Guess we’ll have to make sure he’s the last of the line to get in the sheriff’s department.”
“So that’s the connection. We were looking for someone from twenty years ago who was still with the department, but it was two of them, uncle and nephew. One then, one now. Man.”
“The BCA is going to help us at the crematorium. Apparently, when people are cremated, they aren’t always completely reduced to dust. Sometimes there are little bits of bones. In an ethical business, they’d make sure one guy’s bones and ashes aren’t mixed with another’s. But who knows what they’ll find at Bishop’s.”
As awful as that was, I hoped they would be able to learn some victims’ identities through that process. It would be a lengthy process, no doubt.
“Now we know what hell on earth is,” I said.
“A whole new meaning.” Smoke yawned loudly. “I’ll let you go so you can get ready for work. I should tell you, in the middle of it all, my friend called to say your little Queenie is weaned and ready to go.”
“Seriously? Gosh, I hope they can keep her a few more days so Rebecca and Tina can go with me to pick her up. Maybe my next day off. I’ll give them a call then.”
An Altar by the River Page 27
