When Darkness Comes

by W. Franklin Lattimore

  “I’m sorry. Not what you were looking for, I know.”

  Brent looked up, feeling worse for putting this man in a position of guilt. “No, John. I was just kicking myself for being a jerk. I was going to skip asking a personal—an important—question in favor of one that was a lesser priority. Would you mind too much if I divert our conversation for a minute? I want to ask you about something you just said.”

  “Shoot.”

  “You said you prayed to God. Are you a Christian?”

  Tears began to appear again as John looked Brent dead on. “Because of that little girl, yes.” Both elbows came up to the table and the fingertips of both hands went to his forehead, shielding his eyes. “She kept praying for me. Dying in that damn bed, she was praying for me! Told me that Jesus was going to take care of her, but that she wanted to make sure that Jesus took care of me, too.”

  John’s shoulders began to shake, and Brent could hear him sniffling while trying to control his breathing. It appeared that he was losing the battle.

  “My sister, Sarah,” he continued, voice strained, “told me that Megan—my niece—had been praying for her Uncle John even before she got sick. My sister had gotten religion… well, what I called religion, about ten years ago, when Megan was about three. It was just the two of them up here. Lisa’s husband was killed in Iraq.” He paused in obvious reflection. “He was a good man.”

  “So much tragedy,” Brent inserted with a whisper.

  John nodded. “Yeah. Lisa’s really been through it. But with her church family and Mom and Dad’s help, she’s really been doing well lately. Her faith saved her.” He let out a light laugh. “I guess it saved her in more than one way.”

  John paused a moment, collected his thoughts, then said with a smile, “That was more than you asked for, wasn’t it?”

  Brent smiled, but didn’t say anything.

  “Anyway, yeah, through all of that I guess God got a hold of me. Ended up at Lisa’s church for the memorial service for Megan. The pastor said that Megan had asked him to make sure that he told everyone about Jesus when they came to see…” He choked back tears again. “… when they came to see her. He did, and that’s when I made a decision for Christ.”

  Brent was quiet for a moment before responding. “John, I am so proud of you. I don’t know you, but I’m definitely proud of you.”

  “I take it you’re a Christian?”

  “Without question. It’s a pleasure getting to know you, brother.”

  “Same here.”

  John extended his hand.

  Brent took it.

  “So!” asserted John, probably too loudly, “You’ve got some questions, huh?”

  Brent laughed. “A few.”

  “Well, let’s see how many we can get answered for you,” he intoned with a grin.

  6:07 P.M.

  THE AMOUNT OF coffee that Brent and John drank was surely going to affect their ability to sleep later that night. But the information that the two of them shared would more than make up for any red eyes Brent would probably have in the morning, though the same may not be said for John.

  John had seen Chief Connor leave the offices abruptly from time to time, and he had seen the chief on two occasions with a man who seemed to wield some sort of influence over his affairs.

  He went on to describe what he could remember of the man’s physical characteristics. Brent wrote them down.

  “I had pretty much written the chief’s interactions off as none of my business. But now that I’m aware that the chief has been lying to other law enforcement officers…” John shook his head. “I’ll keep my eyes and ears open for more information.”

  “And the farm at which all of the ceremonies are allegedly taken place?”

  “I’m familiar with it, as well. But I’ve never been on the property and likely won’t be any time in the future. Until you told me about what you suspect is going on, I’ve been content to believe that it really had been just a large family reunion that had taken place. But now? Well, if I hear of anything going on out there, I’ll do my best to scope things out without breaching the law.”

  That was all that Brent could have asked for.

  They were within a few minutes of going their separate ways when Brent’s cell phone rang. “I’ll bet that’s my wife. Forgot to tell here where I’d be. Excuse me a sec.”

  John smiled with a nod.

  Brent looked at the display on his Droid. As he suspected, it was Tara. “Hi, hon. Sorry that I…”

  “Brent, Donna McNeill just called. She says that someone’s been following her all day. I told her to get over here right away. She’s pretty spooked.”

  “Okay, but why would she think to call you?”

  “Hmm… Remember that police uniform that you wore in front of her?”

  “All right, Miss Sarcasm.”

  “Where are you?”

  “I’m in Bedford, but I’m going to head home right now. I’ll see you in a little bit. Love you.”

  “Love you, too. Hurry.”

  Brent slid out of the booth. John started getting up too.

  “Everything okay?”

  “That was my wife. She said that Donna McNeill, the woman I told you about, is being followed. She’s heading to my house now. I’ve got to get there to meet her.”

  “Brent, sounds like things are ramping up. You need anything, you let me know.”

  Brent took John’s extended hand and added his free hand, displaying his appreciation for the man’s help and the exposure of his heart.

  “John, this whole thing may blow up in my face. But if this … this religion really is as demonic as I’m being led to believe, then a lot of people’s souls are at stake, and as a Christian, albeit a young one, I’m sure you can appreciate the significance of that. I know a false religion isn’t illegal, but it is important.”

  “You’re right. And I may be a young pup compared to your years as a Christian, but I take my faith very seriously. I want to protect people from lies as much as you do.”

  “Good to hear.”

  “Now get home to your family.”

  Brent smiled and turned to walk away. He stopped and turned back to face Eldredge.

  “You know what gets me about all of this? If the Pittston Chief of Police is working to cover something up, you can bet your badge that something illegal is going on.”

  “Or is about to,” added Eldredge.

  6:31 p.m.

  BRENT WALKED INTO his house after seeing Donna McNeill’s sedan parked in the driveway. As he entered the living room all eyes turned to him. He saw Donna sitting on the couch, with Tara and Jenna on either side. Jamie and Amy were nowhere to be seen.

  Donna put on an apologetic smile and offered, “Hi, Brent. Forgive me for intruding on your family like this.”

  Tara responded before Brent could open his mouth. “Donna, quit apologizing already. Calling us was the right thing to do.”

  “Tara’s right, Donna,” Brent interjected. “But, then, she usually is.”

  Donna’s face showed that she appreciated the humor.

  Brent looked at Tara. “The kids with their Nana and Papa?”

  “I asked Ashley Hahn if she could watch them at her house for a couple of hours.”

  That was good enough for Brent. It was great having some on-call babysitters close by. He walked over to his favorite chair next to the sofa and sat down. “Did I miss anything?”

  Tara and Jenna both shook their heads. “No, not really. We were just getting comfortable when you walked in,” replied Tara.

  The police officer in Brent took over. “Excuse me. I want to grab a pen and paper.” He got back up and after several seconds he returned from the kitchen, notepad in hand. “Okay, let’s start from the very beginning.

  “Donna, was today the first time that you had the sensation that you were possibly being followed?”

  “It wasn’t a sensation,” indicated Donna. “I was really being followed.”
/>   “I believe you, but I’ve got to ask the questions that will help me to develop a mental picture of what’s going on. So bear with me. I promise I won’t ask any irrelevant questions. Okay?”

  It was obvious that she was feeling embarrassed for her defensive tone, but she steadied herself and said, “Okay. And, yes, this is the first time that I’ve ever had the feeling that I was being followed. I’ve never had any reason to think that I would be. Truth be told, I don’t know why I was being followed today!”

  “Sweetheart,” Brent said to Jenna, “will you go get Miss McNeill a bottle of water from the fridge? Thank you.”

  Jenna hopped up and made for the kitchen.

  “You don’t have to do that, really,” responded Donna to his kindness.

  “Trust me, you’re going to want it. Questions from a police officer always lead to a dry mouth,” Brent stated with a grin.

  The statement caused Donna to laugh.

  Good, Donna. Relax, he willed.

  Jenna returned with the water and Donna immediately broke the seal, then set it on the coffee table.

  “What time did you leave your home today?” Brent began again.

  “Umm… I’d say around 9:10, 9:15 a.m. Somewhere around then. My first appointment for the day was at 10:00 a.m.”

  “Do you always take the same route out of your neighborhood or complex?”

  “Yes. My neighborhood is contained within a big loop. I could head either direction to get out, but I always take the same way.”

  “Nothing unusual? No cars parked on the street that you didn’t recognize?

  “No one’s allowed to park on our streets without permission from the city, so it’s rare to have any parked along the curbs.”

  “Okay, when and where was the first time you suspected you were being followed?”

  “Just after leaving my third appointment.” She thought for a moment. “That would have made it about 3:15 this afternoon. I was in Warrensville Heights on Miles Road about to turn on to Lee Rd. I just happened to look up into my rear-view mirror to see another vehicle turn on to Miles from East 164th. That’s where my appointment was. I didn’t think anything of it, really. It was just happenstance that I even looked back to see a car pull out.”

  “And you’re sure that it was that car that you saw later.”

  “Not just later. I’m always stopping off at stores to pick things up that I’ll need for a client—as Tara will attest.” She smiled at Tara. “So I went to QuickBuy and picked up a couple of things. After I went back to my car and pulled out of the parking lot, I thought I saw the car parked across the street. I almost thought nothing of it, but I just had this quick thought that I’d seen the car before. In my rear-view mirror I saw it pull out a couple cars behind me.

  “I had one last stop I had to make before heading home for the day. I needed to go to the post office to mail in my end-of-week reports and receipts to the home office in Cincinnati. So, I go and do that. When I get out of the post office, there it is, across the street! The same car!”

  “What did you do?”

  “What do you mean, what did I do? I got in my car and called Tara!”

  “Could you see into the car.”

  “Yes, there was a man in the car.”

  “Could you identify him if you saw him again?”

  “No. I could only tell that it was a man. The glare kept me from seeing his face.”

  “No chance it was a woman?”

  “Oh no. Definitely not. His head was shaved or cut very close.”

  Brent jotted that down. “If there was too much glare how could you see that?” Brent knew the question could sound accusatory, so he appended. “Glare can play tricks on the mind.”

  Donna answered with no hint of offense, “The building behind his car must have been white or something.” She shook her head. “Can’t remember. But I could see his head silhouetted through the windshield despite the glare.”

  “And he followed you again?”

  “Yes. He followed me until I got to Millsville, then he disappeared.”

  Brent looked at Tara. “Well, that’s about as big a message as anything we could have gotten delivered to our doorstep.”

  Tara nodded with realization.

  “Message?” Donna asked.

  “It was someone from the Picti group.”

  Donna was taken aback. “What? Who? Why?” she fired in rapid succession.

  Brent went on to tell her about Tara’s run-in with Stephanie and the lies that had been told by the Pittston police chief.

  “That the vehicle would turn away and stay out of my jurisdiction is very telling.”

  “But why? I mean, my brother wouldn’t be involved in anything illegal. The people that I’ve met… Brendan and Stephanie… You can’t be right about this. There’s got to be another explanation.”

  “Maybe there is, Donna. But I doubt it. And if they’re keeping tabs on you, then you’re a liability to them.”

  Tara interjected, “Donna, why don’t you stay with us tonight?”

  Donna looked from Tara to Brent and back. “This can’t be that serious! It makes no sense that someone would be wanting to follow me, let alone harm me. I’m fine.”

  She stood up and made to leave, but it was Jenna who made to calm her down. “I would love it if you stayed! It would be like a slumber party. You, me, Mom…” she looked over at Brent. “Sorry, Dad. Only girls.”

  Jenna looked back at Donna with pleading eyes.

  “I don’t have any clothes… a toothbrush…”

  Jenna stepped through what sounded like a break in Donna’s resolve. “We’ve got extra toothbrushes in the linen closet,” she said, looking over to her mom. “Right, Mom? And she can borrow some pajamas.”

  “I think,” said Tara with a smile, “that what my daughter is trying to say is, ‘Please?’”

  Brent could see that Donna’s resistance was failing.

  “Well,” she conceded, “it has been years since I’ve been to a good pajama party.”

  Jenna yelped with excitement!

  Brent could only shake his head.

  Brendan sat at the dining room table. He held the Key of Bridei before him. Retrospect being what it was, he thought about how he could have avoided the terrible moment on the mound when he had hoped to translate the word “Religion” on the key.

  The word was there. Sort of.

  He had expected to see the word religio in Latin inscribed on the back of the key, but instead it read fides sollemnis—solemn faith. That hadn’t troubled him. What had unexpectedly caught his attention were two other words below those; vile words that had caused the taste of bile to reach his tongue.

  The front door opened. In walked Aileen.

  He set the stone down on the table. It balanced perfectly on its mounting peg. The question on how to proceed with translating around what was inscribed in Latin would have to wait.

  “They’re arriving,” announced Aileen. “Do you want them to come inside or do you wish that we go to the mound?”

  “We’ll meet inside. Grab some bottles of water for all of us, will you, my love?”

  He could see how his use of the word love played at the corners of her mouth. The right words could move mountains and even greater objects, like hearts.

  Aileen stepped back outside momentarily to let the members of the Home Coven know that they should assemble in the living room, then she went to withdraw thirteen bottles of water from one of the two refrigerators that quietly hummed within the confines of the kitchen.

  Though tonight would not remove from his mind what plagued him now, a little bit of war-making would certainly satisfy a dark craving that had been intensifying for the past couple of days. The right form of spellcasting could relegate situations to an acceptable status that once had been dire.

  Tonight would be dedicated to the Lawton family in Millsville. It’ll be a night they will not soon forget, he mused. The other family that needed dealt with, Cow
an and his sister, would take a little more thinking—a little more planning. Apparently Donna McNeill didn’t have a self-stop button. In fact, his “spy” told him that she had fled to Millsville that afternoon. But, she wasn’t supposed to have fled at all. She was supposed to have gone through the routine of her day and headed back home.

  Getting to know how she spent her time outside of her brother’s company had been a crucial element in determining the proper course of “discipline” for her. But that got screwed up on day two of the information gathering, apparently because his “hired hand” couldn’t keep out of sight.

  Brendan checked his watch. Well, Miss McNeill was surely at home by now and they would deal with her soon enough.

  Now, to the issue at hand.

  11:07 P.M.

  BRENT YAWNED.

  He was in the family room. The interaction of the three ladies had become completely tuned out probably a good hour before. The discussion of what had driven Donna McNeill to their home had long since transitioned to girl talk. Not a problem. It had allowed for a little bit of interaction with Jamie and Amy before putting them to bed.

  He was craving the same thing, now. Heading into the weekend, a good night’s sleep would be a great thing.

  He got up from his family room chair where he had spent the past forty minutes or so reading. Even Robert Liparulo’s latest suspense novel, regardless of its intensity, couldn’t keep his eyelids from drooping.

  Walking into the living room once more, he gave a tired wave and said, “Goodnight girls. If you hear a rooster crow, you’ll know you’ve stayed up a bit too late.”

  “Goodnight, Brent.”

  “Goodnight, Baby.”

  “Goodnight, Daddy.”

  Goodnight, John Boy, thought Brent with a smile.

  Brent walked up the stairs, peeked in on his two youngest, then prepared for bed.

  “BRENT SEEMS LIKE a good man,” said Donna. “How did the two of you meet?”