“The voice of our friend had called--,” I swallowed hard, suffering with the memory while attempting to explain, “It claimed to have been at a diner waiting for us and in need of a ride into town.”
“And what was so unusual about that—if you don’t mind me asking?”
“We had never told anyone about the place--,” Rich replied as though lost in thought and still caught in utter suspension of disbelief, “It’s always been our private escape from everything. It’s a little place where we always stop to eat and talk when on route to a new investigation.”
“Can I ask where that place just happens to be?” Raymond had placed an elbow upon the table, and resting his chin in his palm, tapped a finger thoughtfully to his temple.
“It’s a little truck stop diner in Hope--,” Rich informed our friend, “You can’t miss it—it’s just off the Trans-Canada--.” He was interrupted by Raymond, who had just raised a hand and halted him in mid-sentence, “Oh my God—that’s exactly what I thought.”
I had just looked at Rich as a sudden terror took both of our hearts.
“The reason that you were released as quickly as you were—and Simms had nothing to say,” He sipped at his coffee and sighed deeply before looking back to me, “Was because your friend Harry, a distinguished officer of the law for many years, walked into that truck stop diner at approximately nine p.m. last night, and for no apparent reason, brutally murdered the waitress and an elderly cook. I’m sorry….”
“Peggy--,” Rich had thrown a hand before his mouth, and then dropped his head to the table in silent grief.
“There was no mistaking it--,” Raymond apologized as he continued to explain, “His fingerprints were on the murder weapon and shoe tracks were all over the place.”
“Harry would never have done anything like that--,” Choking on the words, I gasped, “Not by his own free will—he must have been controlled in some way.”
“Like that Dennis Monroe boy--,” Raymond had immediately agreed, “The one that we helped that night in Vancouver General.”
Caitlin and Maya had looked to one another as they began to put all the pieces together. I had felt guilty for concealing things, but it had been for their own sanity’s sake.
“That’s what took the lives of both Norman and Harry.” He spoke quietly, sliding his plate away as none of us felt any more appetite.
“And will also take Tim--,” I informed him and the others, “If we don’t do something before nightfall…..”
“I’ll take NR1 and go after him—I can make it there before dark, if I leave right away.” Rich volunteered as Maya dropped the fork onto her plate and just stared in horror.
“No—not this time--,” I looked to Caitlin before turning my attention back to him, “I need you here to keep everyone safe while I’m gone.”
“Michael—no--,” Caitlin gasped, desperately grabbing at my arm and pleading, “You can’t do this—it’s out there waiting for you!”
“You’ll all be safe here together--,” I looked to her, frowning, and said, “I’m sure of this, or I wouldn’t set one foot out of that door. Not in a million years.”
“You can’t even handle that rig on those roads!” Arguing, Rich slammed a hand down upon the table, “You can’t do this alone!”
“He isn’t going alone--,” Raymond spoke with a sudden courage of conviction, “I’m going with him—and I’m ex-military--,” He nodded reassuringly at Rich, “I can drive any damn thing just about anywhere.”
Caitlin wept, as moving from his seat, Raymond had gently placed a hand upon her shoulder. “I promise that I’ll bring your husband back safely, no matter what.”
She had looked up to the big man and taken his hand into both of hers. The tears welling within her eyes as she stuttered and spoke, “Promise me, that you’ll both come back to us safely, with Tim.”
He had just looked to me as neither of could have guaranteed that. And then, slowly nodding, he looked back to her, “I can promise you, if he’s still okay when we find him—that we’ll all come back together. Don’t you fret about a thing—you have my word….”
She had moved from the seat and, like a child, dropped onto my lap, encircling her arms about my neck and shoving her face deeply into my breast. Her hot tears soaked through my shirt as we silently held one another in a final farewell.
“I need you to contact Scott and Carrie and bring everyone here. Explain everything to them—and tell them about Harry,” I looked to Rich, “You need to make up those symbols for the gates—and get them up as fast as possible.” I scribbled the instruction that Marlowe had provided and passed the page over to Rich, “They have to be arranged and done this way.”
“They won’t be pretty--,” He nodded, “But I can make them up in my shop in just a few hours. We can replace them with something better—when we have more time.”
“Have Scott, Danny and Dennis help you. Leave Red Cloud with the women—and whatever you do—do not be out after dark.”
“I’ll help him--,” Maya spoke up, “I’m handy with a torch—I learned from uncle Red.”
“Good—the faster this comes together, the better off everyone will be.”
“I’ll go with them.” Caitlin kissed me, as looking into my eyes, she whispered, “Someone has to keep them out of trouble, and watch the time. It gets dark too fast….”
“Don’t take any chances--,” I looked around at my companions, “I want those gates closed and locked and everyone back in here long before dark.”
The sky had been overcast as we had hurried out through the gates and to Rich’s truck. I had glanced back one last time to look upon Caitlin and the others as they silently stood in the open doorway. From out of the deep shadows behind them the raven had flown out, and now pursued as I climbed into the truck.
The engine had already been running as Rich had warmed the machine and we gathered what we might need before departure. As Raymond had climbed into the driver’s seat and strapped into the belt, he drew two pistols from concealed breast holsters, awed as he had checked the chambers and loaded the deadly twin 44.caliber revolvers.
“I brought along a few friends--,” He had slipped them back into the leather holsters concealed beneath his fur-collared sheep-skin coat, “You might not be able to shoot a phantom, but they’ll stop a bull dead at fifty paces.”
“The tanks are both full--,” Rich had shouted as he climbed up and leaned in through Raymond’s open door, “And the switch to change fuel tanks is just under the dash.”
I watched silently as my friend directed Raymond in all the necessary functions, from fog lights to nitrous injection. And then, dropping out of sight, he had hurried around to my side of the vehicle. “You be careful out there, brother--,” He had pulled the door open and extended a hand in parting. But then, having become emotional, he had leapt forward in a parting embrace, “I’ll keep them all safe—just come back to us alive and in one piece!” As he stepped back down we shared a somber glance in reflection. It was quite possible that we might never see each other again, but, swallowing hard, I tried to stay optimistic. “Lock the gates and don’t answer the phone or door after dark--,” I shouted as he closed the door and stepped back from the truck, “I have keys to the gate and house. So, no matter what—you know that it’s not going to be me asking for entry, later tonight….”
Waving, I saw Caitlin throw a hand to her mouth, the fear twisting her otherwise pleasant features. It broke my heart to leave them, but I trusted that they would be safe with Rich in the house, and simply couldn’t abandon Tim to a certain and horrific death….
“I Love you—my life and my world, till then.” I had spoken the words without sound and just so that she could read my lips. Blowing her a kiss, I turned away as she burst into tears while leaning into Eva’s comforting embrace. One day soon we would never be parted again. I would let go of everything and just share was remained of our lives together. Or, at least that was what I kept telling myself.
The streets were almost empty as families gathered to open presents upon Christmas morning. The snow drifts were heaped high on either sides of the street, and the plows continued struggling to clear the city center and main routes. It had felt odd, completely foreign, to have been traveling without Rich. But there was also a certain confidence, a fiery determination that now compelled us onward. I knew in my heart that it was no longer mere compassion for a friend but the hope that whatever evil now stalked us might spare the others, while in pursuit of me….
We had entered the Trans-Canada highway, relieved to find that the roads had been reasonably cleared. The drifts were like small mountains on either side and the snow lay deep from all around. I had slipped back into my seat with the sudden force as Raymond accelerated and we sped ahead dangerously, the engine howling with a sudden fury as we raced against time and the night! Elevated upon enormous tires, the huge truck raced down the empty and frozen highway!
I had struggled to open one of the thermoses that Rich had brought in departure. Spilling and cursing, I filled a cup and fought to place it back down. I had successfully done the same for Raymond, though I had nearly ended up wearing his coffee. He had just smiled, raising the cup in good cheer, and thanked me as we traveled along.
Noticing the eight track tape in the deck, Raymond had slipped it back into place, sighing and settling back into his seat to the smooth sounds of Bing Crosby’s Christmas classics.
“It’s hard to believe that it’s Christmas--,” I struggled with my thermos and tea, “I’m surprised that you’re working over the holidays.”
“My wife left me two years ago—and we never had any kids--,” He adjusted the seat and wriggled about to get comfortable, “My parents retired and moved to Florida. They just couldn’t take the winters here anymore. So, I’m alone during the holidays anyway, might as well stay busy.”
“Simms isn’t going to be stirring any trouble for you getting involved here—is he?”
“To put it politely--,” Raymond adjusted his sunglasses, “I really don’t give a damn anymore. We’re supposed to be upholding the law and defending the innocent, not tossing them in jail to win brownie points with the captain.”
“Well—with everything going on--,” I sipped at my tea, “You really can’t blame him for being a little confused. God knows—even having some idea of what’s happening here has left me twisted out of shape.”
“Speaking of being twisted out of shape--,” He nodded in gesture as we passed the Hope diner, “Is that the same place that you were talking about?”
Looking across the highway, I glanced to where just beyond a cement barrier I could see the diner. My heart sank at the sight of all the flowing, yellow police-tape that now blocked entrance to the front door. “It certainly is--,” I swallowed hard and looked up at my friend, “What happened in there—just between us….”
There was an apprehension in his eyes that spoke of horrors that he was apparently reluctant to share. But after a moment’s thought he had cleared his throat, and sighed deeply, “Well, it seems that your friend came in through the back door to the kitchen. The cook had left it open while he mopped the floor. At which point, the assailant picked up a large carving knife from the back counter and proceeded to disembowel and behead the cook. Officers later found that head crushed down into the deep fryer….”
I had just stared while remembering the horrific vision that I had when having last been there. As raising his eyebrows, he seemed to have waited for me to let him know if I had heard enough. But having a personal interest in the matter, I had just nodded for him to continue.
“Apparently the murder of the cook had been committed in such a way, that the waitress had not even suspected that anything had been wrong.” He appeared deeply troubled. So much in fact, that his description came slower, more calculated as he related the series of events. “The assailant then walked out from the kitchen and from behind the back counter. At which point, he stood near a corner and waited for the waitress.”
“Can I just ask how police knew so much?” I had curiously interrupted, “I mean—not being present during the actual incident, much of this is simply conjecture, right?”
“I was on site for this call--,” He explained, “There was so much blood in the kitchen, that the murderer left clear prints. You could read the scene like an open book.”
“Alright—I just wanted to be sure of the details. Please continue.”
“He waited in that corner at the end of the counter until she walked right into him. And then--,” He faltered while recounting the events, and motioning with a hand in a twisting fashion, said, “He reached into her mouth—and ripped her lower mandible right off her head….”
I had placed a hand before my eyes while imaging poor Peggy’s final moments.
“Should I stop?”
“No--,” I insisted, waving a hand for him to continue, “I need to know what happened, for my own peace of mind.”
“He left the jaw on the counter—and she must have tried to crawl away. There was a trail for several feet across the floor and toward the front door, but that’s where he caught her. He—well, he used his boot to smash her head into—she was unrecognizable. The coroner had to use the lower mandible for a dental record for positive identification. I’m sorry—I know that they were both friends of yours….”
“I’m afraid that this might just be the beginning.” Looking to the big man, I motioned while offering to refill his cup, “What we are dealing with is likely something that has obsessed, possessed and influenced murderers from the beginning of time. We have no idea of what it might be capable of doing—but rest assured, it will find us when darkness falls….”
“It can’t touch us as long as we are wearing these, right?” He pulled the charm from where it lay hidden beneath his shirt.
“Nothing ethereal can actually touch us--,” I handed back his refilled coffee mug, “But we know that it was controlling old Harry—and saw what it did to him in the end.”
“But, if this thing isn’t physical--,” He argued, “Then how did it manage to lift and impale a two hundred and fifty pound man on a spiked gate, fifteen feet in the air, without leaving a single track or print?”
“If it can influence living and even dead human beings—,” I shuddered with the thought, “Then what else can it possess or possibly reanimate?”
“Sweet Jesus--,” Ray almost spilled his coffee, “Are you sure that your wife and friends will be safe alone in that house?”
“An old friend is there watching over them---,” I prayed that Marlowe would guard over them, “I can only hope that Rich will get those symbols made and mounted, and that the gates will hold….”
2:30 p.m.
We had stopped briefly and just long enough to use the bathroom and refuel for the last part of the journey. I had grabbed some sandwiches, and hurrying back to the truck, heard the raven’s mournful call in the tall and surrounding pines.
The mountains stood like frozen giants in the distant haze of an overcast sky. And as I reached for the passenger door handle, the first few flakes fell from the darkening skies.
“Now we know how Harry managed to make his way into Hope.” Raymond had climbed back into the truck, starting the engine, and peered over at me, “Someone stole a snow plow just outside of Hedley—they found what was left of the driver out on the highway this afternoon.”
“Oh dear God--,” I had slumped back into my seat as he pulled out of the little service station, “The trail of death seems to be endless….”
“I have a gut feeling that you were right about what you said earlier--,” He bit i
nto an apple that I had offered him, “That this might just be the beginning….”
“Let’s just hope that we can get to Tim before it’s too late.” I placed a sandwich on the center console for him, and sipping at a diet soda, said, “At this point, I’m not even sure what might be worse? Being caught out here on the highway in the middle of nowhere—or getting trapped in town?”
“On the road we can keep moving--,” He rationalized things out, “But, we could get caught in a blizzard.” He motioned out and onto the road before us as the flurries suddenly came. “If we stay in town—we can seal ourselves into a church or chapel and hold out there for the night.”
“There’s a chapel in Tim’s funeral home--,” I remembered, “We can all stay in there.”
Raymond had just stared at me, “Funeral home? Are you sure that’s such a good idea?”
“Well--,” Remembering Marlowe’s words in the prison cell, I nodded, “It may not sound very pleasant—but it’s one of the safest places that anyone could be…..”
“After what happened with Harry—I just hope that you’re right.” He nodded into the late afternoon sky, “It’ll be dark as we’re getting into town. And, according to what you told me earlier? Hopefully, we can just grab your friend and make a run for it.”
4:25 p.m.
It was almost dusk when we sped through the flurries which once more buried the road. We had just passed the large green directional sign that had informed us of having been fourteen miles from Hedley. But it might as well have been fourteen hundred the way that we were feeling. Raymond had been forced to slow our efforts as the roads became treacherous, and the snow deepened faster than ever before. I had suspected that the blizzard had been unnaturally influenced, but only the coming night would confirm our worst fears.
“I don’t know if we should risk a return trip tonight?” Unsettled, Raymond’s eyes became wide and glassy, “This snow is getting deeper, and the last thing that we need is to go off the road somewhere or get stuck!”
Sanctum Arcanum Page 57
