by Evan Bond
"Witchcraft?" He wondered. Could that be the answer? Was someone trying to suggest Sasha was involved in witchcraft? It would explain the crosses, the ritualistic knife, the candles, and the removed heart. But why accuse her of witchcraft? No one in town knew her so why do anything? Maybe they wanted to isolate her from everyone, make her seem odd to the entire town? But why? Surely there’d be easier ways of going about it.
There seemed to be no answers to this case, only questions. In order to solve it, he needed to find the link between the symbolism and Sasha. He was certain the victims had been random. At the very least, a pattern had yet to be established. He hated the thought but he knew there would be no way of deciphering a pattern until another body was found. There would be more bodies before the killer was caught. Harrison was sure of it.
An idea slipped into the forefront of his mind. His next course of action should be to question the best source in town for news. Of course, he was thinking of the gossip ring which consisted of Josh Gruber- the town dentist, Betty Myer- a retired woman with too much time on her hands, Kyle Ferguson- who ran the drug store in the center of town, and Carol Leighter- who ran the local newspaper. The four of them were known about the town as the gossip group. Carol, on more than one occasion, used the Gossip Group as a source in one of her articles. They might have some insight to anyone acting strangely or out of the ordinary. Since the investigation was still open, he’d have to keep the details as vague as possible.
Grabbing his hat, Harrison climbed into the cab of his truck and sped off down the road. Gravel spewed out from under his tires and sprayed across his yard. Five minutes later, he was pulling in to Betty’s driveway. He climbed out of the truck and trekked towards Betty Myer's home with purpose.
He pounded on the door and waited for an answer. There was the distinct sound of confused shuffling coming from inside before Betty answered the door. Harrison didn’t wait for an invitation and proceeded to walk inside. Small town sheriff had its perks. If he did something he really shouldn't have, it didn't end up on every social media site within seconds. Harrison liked the freedom.
"Hey there, Sheriff." Kyle Ferguson said. "What can we do for you?"
Harrison smiled and removed his hat. He looked around at Ms. Myer's home. Every piece of décor hanging on the walls were older than Harrison, at least he guessed they were. The curtains were frilly and covered in a busy purple pattern. The yellow, dingy couch in the center of the living room was probably once vibrant and colorful. A thin layer of dust covered almost every inch of wooden furniture, giving it a more aged appearance.
"I need to know if you've heard anything around town."
"Is this about the murders?" Kyle asked.
"Yes and no" Harrison responded. "I can't give out the details but I need to know a few things."
"Like?" Betty asked.
"For starters, have any of you heard any disdain centered around the new woman, Sasha?"
"Does she have something to do with this?" Carol asked.
"No, no. Of course not. I just need to know if there's someone in town who doesn't like her, that's all."
The four of them looked at each other as if to seek approval. Finally, Josh said, "Nothing that we've heard of."
"Alright, keep me informed if you do hear anything. Report anything to me immediately. I'm serious. If anyone is having an issue with her, let me know."
They agreed and Harrison placed his hat back on his head. With that, he walked out of the home and back into his truck. The trip had been a complete bust. He was no closer to solving the case and he was almost certain he had started a rumor about Sasha by mistake. The end justified the means. If it brought the killer to justice then so be it.
After the sheriff left, the Gossip Group started up instantly. They hollered and squawked like a flock of hungry seagulls. A new story had just fallen into their lap. It could be the front page of the paper. Newcomer Brings Murder from Big City. It practically wrote itself. This was the biggest thing to ever happen to their quiet little town.
They were saddened by the neighbors they had lost. It was a small community and everyone knew each other. Which meant all the more reason to bring this story to light. People needed to know the new woman in town brought them nothing but trouble. Would it panic the residents? Sure. But they needed to be scared, they should be scared. It would be foolish not to be.
Carol decided she would work on the article right away and have it on next morning's paper. Sheriff Harrison would be pissed but ultimately there was nothing he could do. Even in their small town, the Constitution still meant something. She had a right to report the news and that was just what she planned to do.
Chapter Ten
That night, the entire town of Carlisle slept uneasily. Each and every door remained locked and deadbolted with a fastened chain. Children slept snuggly in parent’s bedrooms or in the living room as a family. It seemed no one wanted to be alone.
It was always hard for Sasha to sleep but tonight was much worse. Her anxiety levels were through the roof. Two dead bodies found in a town where murder had never happened could do that to a person. And all of this happened after she came to town, no less. It was enough to send the average person running for the hills. With Sasha’s condition, she wondered if the hills would be far enough away. She couldn’t even think about the heart found in her backyard without having a full-blown panic attack.
She wondered if they should pack up and leave but knew it wasn’t that easy. Where would she go and with what money? Her mother had practically paid for the entire move. Sasha would soon need to provide herself with a stable income and she had yet to figure out how. The answers would come to her in time, she hoped. Until then, she had to stick it out. Desperately, she wanted this murder business to pass over the town. Perhaps the sheriff would catch the one responsible and it would all be over. But something deep down in her gut told her it wouldn’t happen. For some reason, she felt she had a large part to play before it was all over. Attributing it to nothing more than sheer paranoia, Sasha attempted to sleep.
The next morning, she didn’t feel rested at all. Had she not known better, she would have assumed she had only slept for an hour or two at most. The sunlight had filtered in through her bedroom window which would make it difficult for her to climb back in bed and try to feel rested. Instead, she would have to fight through the day with the feeling of utter exhaustion.
Drinking her morning coffee, Sasha sat down and flipped through yesterday's newspaper. It was a cute little thing which fit the atmosphere of the small town perfectly. Updates on locals, prices at the local market, what was new in town, and other stories littered the eight-page paper. She even found a small article about herself. A sort of welcome to the town. The gesture was sweet and she made a mental note to seek out the publisher and thank them for the article. At the top of the first page, she spotted Carol Leighter- Editor. she placed the paper down and sipped her coffee.
A knock at the front door broke the silence and sent a shiver down her spine. For some unknown reason, the thought of her ex-husband flashed through her mind. When the knock came again, she realized it had a certain urgency to it, though it was far from menacing. Pulling it open, she was greeted by the familiar and handsome face of Sheriff Harrison. His tough, bearded face gave her a sense of security and calm unlike any she had ever felt before. It was his eyes that told her he was strong. She could tell he would keep her safe if need be.
"I'm so sorry," he said as he held a newspaper in front of her face. There, on the front page, was a picture of her house with the tagline Newcomer Brings Murder from Big City. Sasha nearly fell to the floor. The name Carol Leighter was still printed in bold lettering next to the title of editor.
Sasha felt betrayed. A few seconds ago, she had thought to thank this Carol person. How could she have gone from a lovely letter of welcoming to one of such spite and fear? How could the murders be her fault and why would this woman want everyone to believe such a thing? Sa
sha had to fight back tears.
"This is all my fault," Harrison explained, seemingly reading her mind. "Yesterday, I spoke with the editor and her group. Around town, they’re called The Gossip Group. I’m sure you can understand why. They can be a bit of a pain in the ass, but usually, they're harmless.
I had hoped what I asked her had been off the record. I guess I should have specified. I wish I hadn't gone to them. I'm so sorry."
"What the hell did you say to them?"
Harrison explained his thoughts as clearly as he could. Somehow, she was connected but he couldn’t figure out how. He made sure to make it clear she was in no way a suspect. He believed someone might be targeting her to take the fall for the bodies. Of course, Sasha didn't take this news well.
"What do you mean someone's trying to pin this on me? What the hell did I do to anybody? I just got here. I was barely moved in before the first body hit the ground. What the hell is wrong with these people?"
"I know it doesn't mean much, and it doesn't make it right, but this is a small town. People here aren't used to change, nor do they welcome it. They see a new person like a threat to their way of life."
"So they set me up for murder?"
"Obviously, we're dealing with a very sick individual who needs help. What they're doing is wrong on many levels and I intend to stop them by any means necessary, I promise you. I thought hearing the news from a somewhat familiar face would make it a little easier to handle, rather than seeing it alone in the paper."
"I don't know that it does."
"Understandable. Would you like to get your daughter up and ready? I'd like to show you around a bit, maybe take your mind off things?"
Sasha thought about it for a moment, not sure what to say. The whole town would soon hate her. There was no telling how they would respond. Would they take up pitchforks and torches and run her out of town? Would some lone vigilante put her down, thinking it would end the killings? Fear changed people and turned them into ugly creatures, shells of their former selves. Sasha knew all too well.
"Yeah, sure. I guess I could use the distraction." What she really wanted to say was she felt safer staying with the sheriff than she did at home but he probably had been thinking the same thing. She told Harrison to make himself comfortable as she readied Tara for the day. Harrison wasted no time brewing himself a cup of coffee and sitting down on the couch with his feet up. He flipped through the morning paper while Sasha audibly struggled to get her daughter up and ready.
Sasha helped her daughter into the back seat of Sheriff Harrison's truck. When she was safely buckled in, Sasha moved up front with Sheriff Harrison. Harrison gave her a forced smile and turned the key over. They pulled away from Sasha's house and she watched it in the side mirror with a glint of sorrow in her eyes. Spending the day with the sheriff would be a great distraction but all she could think about was hiding under the covers in her bed.
While they drove, she admired the interior of Harrison's truck. It was well kept and clean. On the outside, it was a beat-up old truck with a few rusting parts. On the inside, it looked almost brand new. The beige seats were soft and smelled fresh. The carpet was free of stains and almost shone in the sunlight. Harrison must have shampooed them once a week. She guessed there was nothing better to do in town.
"First, let me show you my office," Harrison said. "In case you need to find me quickly, of course." He drove up to a rather small building painted an ugly brown color. Plastered on the door was a bright yellow sheriff badge. "Before you say anything, yes the building is ugly. No, I didn't pick it. And yes, I'm aware the yellow star on the front kind of looks like Nazi propaganda."
Sasha hadn't been thinking the last part but now she laughed. It was horrible, but the painted star on the door did look like the badge the Nazi's forced Jewish people to wear during their occupation of Germany. Had this been painted on a big city police station, it would have been all over social media in an instant. Protests and petitions would have forced the city to repaint. But in this quiet town, people left it alone.
"Ever thought about repainting?"
"Every day. But there's no budget for paint. I'm lucky if I can get enough bullets for my gun."
Sasha looked uneasy. How could a sheriff protect the town if he couldn't even afford bullets? Harrison must have sensed her worry and put them to rest. He said, "I'm only kidding. I actually buy bullets with my own money. Not that I've ever had a reason to fire a single shot."
"Now you might."
"Yeah."
He responded with what sounded like sorrow and regret. And why not? He knew everyone in town. Everyone was a friend, everyone was as close as family. One of those like-family members were killing the others. It must have been like finding out your child was a serial killer. You don't want to see them punished but you know in your heart they must be. Sasha couldn’t even imagine.
She placed a reassuring hand on his arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. He gave her a brief smile and shrugged. "I'll do what I have to do."
"I know I don't know you well, yet, but I have a feeling you're going to do a fine job. I bet this town is lucky to have you." Internally, she berated herself for speaking the word yet. It had been so stupid. The implications of that word haunted her and she regretted it. But the hint of a small grin on his face eased her worry. Maybe he had enjoyed the word? Perhaps he enjoyed the subtle meaning behind its uttering. She wanted to know him better. She found him attractive. Could he possibly have deciphered that from one simple word? She thought so. He seemed an intelligent man.
"Look out your window there. You can see our water tower. The entire town’s water supply is stored there. It draws water from a large, underground reservoir on a daily basis. From what I understand, the tower has to resupply daily as each gallon is used. You wouldn't think such a small town goes through so much water. I guess we're very thirsty."
Now it was her turn to notice the upward inflation, or had she imagined it? Sasha was certain the sheriff was flirting with her but could not be sure. The thought was a welcome escape from her normal life. It had been many years, since high school in fact, since a man had given her the feeling of fluttering butterflies in her stomach. She felt juvenile. She felt free.
Brent had never made her feel like a woman. He never bought her flowers, never told her how beautiful she looked, and didn't even try to flirt with her. To him, she was nothing more than an object. He abused her and used her body for his sexual needs. She was nothing but a dumpster. And that dumpster was his property.
A man had once made the mistake of calling her beautiful at a bar one night. Flattered, Sasha thanked the man and hid the blush which had broken out across her face. Since that particular compliment was scarce in her own life, she couldn’t help but accept it. She needed some form of positive reinforcement in her life and if it had to come from a stranger then so be it.
But Brent was none too happy. He had leaned out from behind Sasha and yelled at the man, the beer on his breath wafting into her face. Brent was vicious and angry but the other man merely laughed him off. He added insult to injury when he told Brent to go to the bathroom and splash a little water on his face to cool off. Brent's embarrassing response had been, "Oh, I am cool, buddy. Far cooler than you. You're gonna be jerking it tonight with nothing but your tears as lube and I'm gonna fuck this woman so hard she won't walk straight for a week." Of course, Brent found it hilarious but Sasha found it disgusting and humiliating. All the other women in the bar made faces at them, some of them laughed. She couldn't take it anymore. Sasha stormed away. Before she made it out the door, she heard the man say, "Guess you’ll be using your tears tonight, buddy." The bar had a good laugh. Even Sasha felt a smirk touch her hot face, though she did her best to hide it.
Brent was furious now. He stood up and approached the man, hell-bent on teaching him some sort of lesson. To this day, Sasha regretted what she had done next. She had dragged Brent out of the bar and to the car, stopping the fight before it started
. She wondered what would have happened had she let him fight the man. He was young, he was in good shape, and he didn't seem the least bit frightened of Brent. Maybe he could have taught Brent a lesson that night. Who knows, maybe it would have given Sasha the courage to leave him and ended up with a man who truly appreciated her. It could have been the man at the bar for all she knew.
No, instead she endured a rage-fueled car ride home as he screamed at her for allowing another man to hit on her. As if it were her fault a man had called her beautiful. Clearly, she had been flirting to get his attention. He belittled her and stripped away all of her worth. Then, he established his dominance over her like he had so many countless nights before. As usual, tears rolled down Sasha's cheeks and she could do nothing but dig her nails into the pillow in front of her.
Now, she looked over at Harrison and saw the man at the bar. He seemed calm, even with everything happening in town. Sasha thought he knew how to treat a woman right, with respect and dignity. And, above all else, he did not seem like an abuser. Sasha would never go back. It would never happen to her again. Not after everything she had done to get away from Brent. There was no going back for her, ever. Sasha had done what she never thought she could to escape the clutches of that terrible man. No one but her mother knew her secret. Sasha had murdered her ex-husband.
Chapter Eleven
She knew she could never leave her husband. The first time she had threatened to leave him was also the last time she threatened it. The fight had escalated beyond anything she thought possible. He fell into a mad panic and lashed out with an open palm. The smack was so hard it busted her bottom lip open. After that, she was thrown to the ground like garbage.
