The Witchery Way

by Robert L. Ferrier

  "That’s what he said. But I don’t believe anything Sheriff Gottschalk says. When we left, Joe told Dad that Sheriff Gottschalk lies like hell."

  "So what can you do?"

  Josh leaned against the steel wall of the shop; but it was so hot from the sun that it burned him, so he moved away and sipped his Coke. He needed Amy’s advice, yet he didn’t want to involve her.

  "You know where Dr. Brewer does his autopsies?"

  “Sure. Over at Hedrick’s Funeral Home. The hospital isn’t equipped for that stuff." Her eyes widened. "Josh! What are you thinking?"

  "I’m thinking if there is a report, I want to see it. I think Ish was already dead when someone put his body on the tracks. Dr. Brewer may have the report in his office. He may not even have finished it yet, so maybe we could look at it."

  She shook her head. "Josh, you can’t just go over there and break into Dr. Brewer’s office. Sheriff Gottschalk will throw you in jail for sure."

  "Yeah. So I have to find a way without breaking in."

  She thought about that. "It’s scary."

  "Risky. But sometimes you have to go for it." He sipped his Coke. Then he ran the cold can across his forehead. "Am I crazy?"

  She grinned and wiped some liquid off his forehead with her thumb. "Nope, not crazy. I feel like you do, Josh. Something’s rotten over at the Sheriff’s office. It would be great to see the report, or maybe something else that would lead us to the truth."

  "Amy, you know this town. How can I get into that office without getting caught?"

  She stuck her hand in her pockets, drew circles in the dirt with her Nike’s, and cleared her throat. "There’s good news and bad news."

  "Uh oh."

  “The good news is that I know a way to get in."

  "And the bad news?"

  "The bad news is I won’t tell you how unless I go, too."

  He sighed. "I don’t want to ruin you in this town."

  "And I want to help you find out what’s going on. So here we are. If you don’t let me help, you’ll get caught for sure."

  He threw up his hands. "You win. So what’s the plan?"

  She smiled. "I know the cleaning lady’s schedule."

  At six-fifteen that evening, they strolled down the sidewalk on Johnson Street, opposite the Hedrick Funeral Home. Josh wiped sweat from his forehead. The sun was sinking low in the west, but the time and temperature sign at the First National Bank up the street read 95 degrees. Josh could smell grilled hamburgers somewhere, but he wasn’t hungry. "What did you tell your parents, Amy?"

  "I told them you and I were going out for burgers. You?"

  "I told my dad the same thing." He studied her face. "You nervous?"

  "A little."

  He squeezed her on the shoulder. "Me too. It’s six-fifteen. When she comes out, are you sure she’ll do what you said?"

  "I’m pretty sure," Amy said. "Irene’s a creature of habit."

  He looked across the street to the Hedrick Funeral Home. It was a single-story brick building facing the street. There was a driveway leading to a side entrance. He watched the entrance and listened to the locusts in the oak trees near the First Baptist Church. He felt his hands starting to sweat. "How long will Irene talk, while she’s at the dumpster?"

  Amy shrugged. "Usually at least ten or fifteen minutes. See that house behind the fence?"

  "Yeah."

  "Luke Poslick lives there. He and Irene have been going together for years. They meet every day at the dumpster by the fence and talk. All the kids around here can set their watches by them."

  "So while she’s busy with Luke, we enter the side door. Right?"

  "Right.”

  "And then we go down the hall?"

  "Yes," Amy said. "Dr. Brewer’s office is off that hall. With any luck, it will be unlocked, because she’ll be cleaning it.

  He thought about it. "You sure he’s not there?"

  "I’m sure. He’s always gone by five. Doing hospital rounds."

  He looked at her. "How can you know everything about somebody in this town?"

  She smiled. It crinkled the skin under her eyes in a nice way. "Josh, this is a small town. Everybody knows everything about anybody."

  "Okay," he said, "here’s our plan. If we get spotted right away, we’ll say we made a mistake and came in the wrong way. If we do get in the office, you stand guard while I look for the report. Let’s give ourselves say...eight minutes max. Then we’re outta there, no matter what."

  "Okay."

  "Amy, maybe I should go in alone."

  She frowned. "Get serious."

  "Okay. And if we do find something, then...."

  He stopped. "Never mind, is that her?"

  Amy turned around and looked. "Yep. That’s Irene."

  A thin woman in jeans walked out the side entrance to the funeral home. She carried two large plastic trash bags. She placed them on the ground, primped her hair, then picked up the bags, walked to the dumpster and tossed them in. Then she leaned against the fence, lit a cigarette, and waited.

  Josh said, "Let’s go for it."

  Amy grabbed his arm. "Wait."

  A minute passed. Josh could feel the sweat rolling down his back. Another minute. The woman was half-way through her cigarette when she looked at her watch. She would see anyone going up that driveway, Josh knew. She looked at her watch. Then a door opened from the house, and a man walked out. He smiled and waved at Irene.

  Josh said, "That him?"

  "Right. Now we can go for it."

  They dashed across the street. Josh glanced around to make sure no one watching them, then they entered the driveway. Irene and Luke were deep in conversation. Josh looked at his watch. "Go.” They opened the door and went inside. Josh paused to allow his eyes to adjust. He smelled flowers and chemicals, and the place made him uneasy. There were three doors along the left side of the hall.

  Amy said, "The first one is Dr. Brewer’s."

  Josh stopped in front of it and knocked. For one horrible moment, he realized if Brewer opened it, Josh had no idea what he would say. But there was no answer, and when he tried the knob, the door opened. In a moment, they were both inside a small, cluttered office. There was a desk covered with papers and journals. The beige walls had pictures and framed diplomas, and there was a brown leather couch with a reading lamp. A three-drawer file cabinet stood next to a closed door which presumably led to the embalming room where Brewer would do his autopsies. The office smelled of pipe tobacco, like remnants of a hardwood fire. But permeating this good smell was the aroma of chemicals from the adjacent room. Maybe Brewer smoked his pipe to mask that odor, Josh thought. He headed for the file cabinet. "Listen at the door, and tell me if you hear anything."

  Josh prayed that the files were unlocked. Everything had gone well so far, he thought. Maybe their luck would hold. He tried the handle on the top drawer. It was locked; so were all the others. Maybe the desk, he thought. He turned, and his eyes widened. Amy had left the door and was looking over the papers on the desk. "Amy!" he whispered. "Get back to the door! I’ll look at this st....”

  They both heard the door to the outside entrance open. Josh grabbed Amy’s arm and led her to the door by the filing cabinet. "Quick! Through here."

  He turned the knob and said a prayer of thanks when the door opened. He shoved Amy through into the dimly lit room and closed the door softly behind him. He heard Amy suck in her breath. Josh followed her gaze to a large steel table with troughs along the sides. Lying on the table were the remains of Ish Maytubby.

  Josh grabbed Amy’s shoulders and turned her toward him. "Don’t look!"

  He felt her shudder. "I already did."

  Josh forced his eyes away from the table. The room smelled of chemicals which made him feel sick. So did being next to a body he had run over with a diesel. He got control of himself and led Amy past the table toward the door which opened into the hallway. "We’ve got to get out of here."

  He opened the door and
looked into the hallway. It was empty, but he could hear Irene humming inside Dr. Brewer’s office. The first escape route was blocked. She would see them for sure. He took Amy’s hand. "Come on," he whispered. "We’ll go out through the front. If anybody asks, we’ll just say we took a wrong turn." He closed the door quietly behind them, and they started down the hallway.

  They passed another open door to the left. Josh looked in at a room filled with coffins on display. Josh and Amy walked toward the end of the hallway where it connected with another corridor. Josh heard voices approaching down the corridor. "Oh, my God!" he said.

  "What?" Amy said.

  "It’s Sheriff Gottschalk. I recognize his voice." He spun around, looking for a hiding place. There was only one choice. "In here."

  He grabbed Amy’s hand and jerked her through the open door. They were in a room with subdued lighting. All the walls were lined with coffins. He heard Gottschalk’s voice, clearer now.

  There was only one thing to do.

  Josh felt sweat seeping from every pore in his body as he lay trapped inside the padded coffin. Amy was in another across the room. He could see only what the opening allowed him to see. He would have closed the coffin over him, but to do so was to suffocate. He heard voices—Gottschalk and another man’s voice he did not recognize. They were inside the room, and Josh tried to squeeze farther down into the coffin. He smelled the aroma of pipe smoke, the same hardwood blend of a few minutes ago.

  "Sheriff, I think it would be better to discuss this in my office."

  "Brewer, you might have a recorder in your office." A pause. "In here, it’s just you and me."

  "I resent your lack of trust."

  "I don’t care what you resent. Just tell me what you found from the Maytubby autopsy." Gottschalk’s voice was closer now.

  "Well," Brewer said, "for openers, he was dead before someone put him on the tracks."

  "How long?"

  "Oh ... twenty-four to thirty-six hours."

  Josh heard a cigarette lighter click, then the exhalation of breath. A stream of smoke drifted into the space above the coffin. Josh clamped his hand over his mouth. Cigarette smoke usually made him cough, and he couldn’t risk making any noise.

  "Go on, Doctor."

  "Well, I can’t be totally sure about this because of the trauma to the upper body, but I think he died from a slashed throat. I detected one clean cut across the carotid."

  "Hmmm. So somebody might have cut his throat and then put him on the tracks." Gottschalk was moving again. He was so close Josh could smell his bad body odor.

  Josh caught his breath. He saw the top of Gottschalk’s white Stetson. He must be leaning on the coffin next to the one Josh was in.

  “That’s right, Sheriff. But there’s something more. Something bizarre."

  Josh could see the Stetson move a bit. "What’s that?"

  Brewer’s voice cracked. “The body bore snake bites."

  Josh held his breath and waited. He hated snakes.

  Long pause. "Snake bites, huh?"

  "Yes. Pit viper. Rattlesnakes, maybe. Multiple bites. Like someone threw him in a pit with them." Brewer’s voice trembled. "And he was alive when it happened."

  Sheriff Gottschalk puffed and exhaled, and the smoke drifted over Josh’s face. Josh tried to slow his breathing, but smoke entered his nostrils. He felt burning in his throat. Once in winter, he had been trapped in a car with adults smoking cigarettes. He could not open the window. His eyes had teared, and he had started to choke—now it was happening again. And if he moved or made a sound, Gottschalk would look down into the coffin. Josh shut his eyes and bit his tongue until he tasted blood.

  CHAPTER 5

  Josh swallowed the blood from his tongue. He waited. The pain and cigarette smoke brought tears that flowed down his cheeks onto the fabric inside the coffin. He watched Sheriff Gottschalk’s white Stetson and prayed the man did not see him.

  "So, what will you put in your autopsy report, Doctor?"

  "What I told you—the truth."

  "That why you called me over here?"

  "Yes.” He coughed nervously. "To let you know in advance."

  "Why not just send me a copy?"

  "Well, I wanted you to know what was going in it."

  "Good."

  "So I’ve told you. Now I’ll type it up."

  "I don’t think so."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean you have to change it first."

  "Change it? Why?"

  "Because you can’t be sure about the carotid slash and the snake bites."

  "Of course I’m sure, Sheriff. It’s my job to be sure."

  "This time you’re not sure." Gottschalk moved again, and Josh could see part of his white hair. "In fact, you’re going to write that Ish Maytubby died of liver failure and exposure."

  Josh could feel the pressure in the room. The taste of his blood, the pain in his tongue, and the need to cough only made it worse. He prayed that Amy, in the other coffin, would stay quiet.

  “Sheriff, you’re threatening me."

  "Is that what I’m doing?"

  "You’re challenging my integrity."

  "That so?"

  "Yes.”

  "You weren’t so concerned with yourintegrity when I had Trace do that little job you needed done four years ago."

  Brewer coughed, but it sounded more like a choke.

  The Sheriff said, "That must have been worth a bundle to your practice. Having that new doctor decide to move out of Senoca. Terrible string of accidents. And your skirts and integrity were clean, weren’t they?"

  "Surely you wouldn’t bring something like that out—"

  "And then there was that piece of insider information you got from Lex Boggs, at First National Bank. You made a killing on that in the market. Be a terrible thing for the authorities to find out about that, wouldn’t it? Man of your integrity."

  “How did you know about—"

  "Doctor, in this town I know about everything. I know who’s sleeping with whom. Who’s cheating on their taxes. Who’s kids are doing drugs. Who’s rich and who’s broke. Who’s gambling and where they gamble, and how much they owe. Who orders kiddie porn , and what kind they like. Who’s taking kickbacks from medical supplies salesmen. Who’s been seen in Vegas with his nurse." The Sheriff’s voice dripped venom. "Integrity? I know the integrity of everyone in Senoca. I know their bank accounts and sexual preferences. And if integrity were clothes, you’d be naked, Doctor."

  Doctor Brewer’s voice trembled. "I never knew you until now.”

  "You don’t know me now."

  "I know you, Sheriff. There’s only one reason you want me to lie on that report—you’re hiding something. And the worse thing is you’re hiding behind that badge."

  Sheriff Gottschalk laughed. "I’m not hiding anything, Doctor. I don’t have to hide. This is Senoca County, and I’m the sheriff. I just made a request of you, that’s all. It’s your decision to comply." He took off the Stetson and ran his hand over his hair. "I’ll expect your report, as discussed, tomorrow—before noon."

  Josh waited. The smoke had gotten into his lungs, and he couldn’t hold out much longer.

  "You’ll have it." Brewer sounded defeated.

  "Fine," Gottschalk said. "Then let’s get out of here. There’s something about this room I don’t like."

  The Stetson disappeared from Josh’s view. Josh heard two sets of footsteps leaving the room, then nothing. He needed to cough, but he counted to ten while tears streamed down his cheeks. Then the cough erupted from deep in his lungs, an explosion that seemed to tear his insides out. He pulled himself out of the coffin, sucked in air, and felt Amy’s arms around him.

  "Josh, are you okay?"

  "I think so."

  "Your voice sounds weird. There’s blood on your tongue!"

  He grabbed her hand. "Don’t worry about it. We’re alive. Let’s get out of here!"

  * * *

  "Josh, what are we gonna do?"


  "I don’t know." It hurt his tongue to talk. "Let me think." He held her hand and pulled her down beside him. They were at their talking spot on row one of the football stadium. The sun was sinking into the horizon, and the stadium was bathed in a yellow glow cut by lengthening shadows from the scoreboard and the oaks on the hill to the west. Water sprinklers shot long lazy streams across the turf. It seemed a million years since he had hit somebody on a football field, and right now football seemed unimportant. The locusts sang their evening song, and chimney sweeps darted through the sky, heading home. To the east, darkness had begun to settle over the town. There was one large gray bank of clouds that glowed red on the upper rim. Josh smelled the wet grass, his own sweat, barbecued chicken, and Amy’s magical scents.

  She said, "That was horrible—what happened back there."

  He nodded. "A nightmare. I could shut my eyes and say it didn’t happen. But it did, and we’ve got to deal with it." He squeezed her hand. "Sorry I got you into this."

  She squeezed him back. "It’s okay, Josh. I needed to be with you."

  He sighed and thought about all that had happened. “I’ve got to stop him, Amy."

  "I know. What should we do? Tell our parents?"

  Josh shook his head. "No."

  "Why not?"

  "We would have to explain how we heard the Sheriff and Dr. Brewer. And what would the Sheriff and Brewer say? They would deny it all. Say it was the wild imagination of a couple of kids who shouldn’t have been in those coffins anyway." He ran his aching tongue over the roof of his mouth. "I’ve got to catch them some other way." He thought about it. "Trace is the key. I’ve got to find out what he’s up to back in those woods. Something’s going on out there. That’s why they killed Ish and put his body on the tracks. And that may be why they’re trying to frighten my dad away."

  "How can you find out without getting killed?"

  Josh was silent for a moment. He ran his finger over the concrete of the stadium row and watched the sun sink beneath the oak trees. A half-moon was rising in the east, framed by clouds that glowed at their upper fringes. He heard kids playing in the park east of the stadium. In happier times, this would have been too good for words. "I’m going with Dad up to Hickory Creek Park tomorrow," he said. "We’re going to talk to the Ranger, Wake McKenna, about the excursion tour. I’ll keep my eyes open, maybe I’ll find a way to get something on Trace."