“None of you saw him after that?”
“No.” She replied.
“Okay.” He said, “Thank you so much for your time.”
If he wanted to look around, he would need a warrant. If he let on that he knew anything, they would have time to destroy evidence. It could wait. First, he needed to find Dr. Stephens.
*****
Abernathy asked Officer Reynolds not to mention having seen Dr. Stephens at Devin Bryant’s house that night. It would only serve to complicate the investigation, as they already had photographic evidence that it was Dr. Stephens who committed the murders, and it would be very disruptive to a lot of people who might be innocent. Reynolds had complied, not wanting to become part of the investigation himself. If they were to ask him directly, he wasn’t going to lie, but he wasn’t going to offer up the information either.
There was a warrant out for Dr. Stephens for the last three days, but no one saw him. He didn’t show up for work and his family claimed to have had no contact with him. It was Tuesday morning when his car was found abandoned in the airport-parking garage -his wallet still on the seat. It was at that point that Detective Abernathy knew they would never find him. There was clear evidence to convict him in the murder of Jezebel Anders and enough circumstantial evidence that he would go down for the murder of Edward Digby as well. Abernathy, however, knew better.
When Abernathy learned that Dr. Stephens’ car was found abandoned, he drove immediately out to Devin Bryant’s house. He rang the doorbell, but no one answered. Not satisfied, he walked around the side of the house and found Devin painting the newly constructed gazebo in his yard.
“Playing hooky from work today?” he asked.
*****
“Oh, hello, um … Abernathy, was it?” Devin remembered the name from somewhere when he showed up at the house on Sunday morning, but he still couldn’t place it.
“Yeah, I took some time off from work. So much to do around here,” He said as he sat his brush down and wiped his hands with a towel.
“Where is the wife this morning?”
“She went out to find a patio set for the gazebo.”
“That is a fine looking gazebo. Just built, I see.”
“Yeah it is. She’s been asking me for one for years.”
“You must have been very eager to please her to be pouring the foundation in the middle of the night.” Abernathy said, watching for a response, “In October.” He finished.
“Well, the guys were over and you know how ambitious you can get after you’ve had a few.” Devin replied, his courtroom demeanor in place.
Abernathy nodded. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Dr. Stephens since Sunday morning have you?” he asked, already sure of the answer.
“No. But I haven’t really gone out, either.”
“I’d bet that we won’t ever find him.” Abernathy said as he looked down to the foundation of the gazebo. “What do you think?”
Devin saw him looking to the concrete slab as he said this. In fact, he was certain that Abernathy’s eyes lingered there until he was sure that he noticed.
“I don’t know…” he replied, not sure what the detective was playing at.
Abernathy smiled, “It’s a funny thing, knowing.”
Devin cocked his head to the side and furrowed his brow a bit. There was something going on here, but he wasn’t sure what it was.
“There are things we know,” Abernathy continued, again looking to the concrete slab, “and things we don’t.” He finished, again making eye contact with Devin.
“I’m not sure what you’re getting at.” Devin said truthfully.
“Well, we know that Dr. Stephens killed those two people, right? We know that. But we don’t know where he is, do we?”
“You’re the detective,” Devin started, “I don’t really…”
“But,” Abernathy interrupted, “for some reason, he took all of Digby’s pictures except the ones that prove he is a killer. That seems a bit odd, doesn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, I guess it does.”
“And he left a picture of himself on the TV where he staged one of the bodies. That seems odd, too, doesn’t it?”
Devin stared on blankly.
“But when he decided to disappear, it looks like he took all of the other pictures with him. He left the ones that prove that he is a killer, but took every last one of them, except those. Took them with him when he went on the lam, no less.”
Abernathy paused for a response, but Devin didn’t give one, so he continued.
“I’d like to say that I know that at least some of the pictures will never be seen again. Destroyed, or with Dr. Stephens, wherever that may be.” Again, his eyes went to the foundation of the gazebo as he spoke, “But I can’t. And I need to know.”
Suddenly, Devin realized why he recognized the name and he knew that, somehow, Abernathy knew everything. He was making an offer.
“So, let’s say you did know that some of them will never see the light of day. What then?”
Abernathy smiled again. “Well, then I’d say that we know that we’ll never find Dr. Stephens. The evidence is enough to convict him, but it will just sit in a box somewhere awaiting his capture. Case closed. But I have to know.”
Devin nodded.
“Well, all right,” Abernathy said as he turned to walk away. “It’s been nice chatting with you.”
Devin watched him walk to his car and drive away. He waited until the car was gone for several minutes, then began walking to the burnt pine tree in the woods. He brushed the debris away from the files holding the memory cards and pulled out the one that held A-G. There in the front, he saw the one labeled Abernathy, Jesse. He pulled it out and looked at it. Would it be enough to simply destroy it? Probably not. Abernathy obviously knew that Dr. Stephens was under the gazebo and could take him down for it any time he chose. But he also knew that Devin had Digby’s pictures. They basically made an agreement to perpetuate a stalemate. He would put it in a safe deposit box and keep it as insurance. It was the only way.
As for the rest of the pictures, Devin thought about them a lot over the last couple of days. He could destroy them all and never think about them again, or he could use them to become very wealthy and powerful. He toiled over it since leaving them out here that morning, but now, in this moment, he finally made his decision.
***
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ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
There always seemed to be a limitless amount of time. Why do today what can be put off until tomorrow? Such was always the case with the stories I planned to tell. I could always wait until tomorrow to get started. Tomorrow never seemed to come.
Shortly after my fortieth birthday, I sat down to read the first book in Stephen King’s Dark Tower series. King added a short essay as an introduction to the series entitled, “On Being Nineteen (and a Few Other things).” I read that essay through a half a dozen times before I went on to read the book. Something about it resonated with me. Particularly the line, “The world eventually sends out a mean-ass Patrol Boy to slow your progress and show you who’s boss.” What if he cut me down before I had gotten around to telling a single story?
With that thought as inspiration (or fear, although at a certain age the two seem indistinguishable), I finally started putting words to paper. While it is not written in the style of King (I don’t think, although I’ve only read two of his works for comparison), or inspired by him or his stories, I can honestly say that you would not be reading this were it not for that essay. For better or worse, this would not be in your hands if not for that inspiration. And for that, I owe him a huge debt of gratitude.
Donnie J Burgess, In the Shadow of Angels
In the Shadow of Angels Page 22
