When Darkness Comes

by W. Franklin Lattimore

  They were banking on the latter. She shouldn’t be able to make any rational decisions once the remote transmitter in his pocket was pressed. This was going to prove to be one very interesting display.

  The chief backtracked out of the road to watch the two vehicles approach.

  They’d get this right. They still had three and a half hours to do so.

  He was glad he’d had the forethought to bring a sandwich and a cold beer.

  10:04 P.M.

  THE TORCHLIGHT AROUND the mound made Aileen’s hair shimmer and her eyes sparkle. She was beautiful, indeed. Brendan walked up to her and gave her a kiss on the forehead.

  She received it stoically.

  “How goes it out here, my love?”

  “Everything is ready, Brendan. We await your bidding.”

  Her emotional distance was uncharacteristic. But, then, she certainly had to have been preparing herself for another visit by Cailleach. During her first encounter with the goddess, she’d had the advantage of not knowing how brutal the experience was going to be.

  “Very good. It’s all coming together just as we planned.”

  “Just as you had planned,” she countered.

  “Indeed.” Good, she’s still walking ten steps behind.

  “Is there anything further that you require of me?”

  He thought for a moment. “A kiss.”

  She walked up to him, placed both hands on his cheeks and drew him into a prolonged kiss that stirred a longing within him. When she released him, she stepped back and put a smile on her face.

  “I’m going to head back into the house,” she told him. “I’d like to rest before things get … intense.”

  He momentarily closed his eyes and gave her a single nod, granting her permission. She walked away.

  If I hold such sway in a person’s life now, Brendan began to wonder, what will it be like after the gods bless me with even greater influence?

  He knew that he needed to get back into the house, as well. The one thing that was keeping him patient during these hours of waiting was translating the stones. So many more to go, but the culture he was learning about was incredibly vibrant and rich.

  Brendan realized at that moment that he was a man who held the world in his hands. The secrets of a lost civilization were coming known, hundreds of people would turn into thousands who looked at him as their benevolent leader, and soon, very soon, he would be endowed with such power that no one would stand in the way of him getting what he wanted.

  He was, indeed, a man with a future.

  Brent was getting nervous. He was sure they’d have more of the code cracked by now. They had some assumptions, but nothing solid.

  The whiteboard was little more than a giant tease, taunting everyone who looked at it. It whispered with a cold voice, “I know something you don’t know.”

  Karen’s research all the way out in Wyoming seemed to be yielding the most results. When Brent had asked her about how she was approaching it, she gave him her path of logic. It ran something like this:

  If there is to be a ceremony tonight, why?

  Why would anyone be in danger unless it involved harming someone; killing?

  Was it a sacrifice?

  To whom?

  Why?

  What do these Picti ultimately want? Obviously power.

  From where would they get this power? Pictish gods?

  What would they have to do to gain the favor of these gods?

  Brent had to hand it to her, she had a skilled mind.

  Fifteen minutes ago he’d gone upstairs to check on Tara. She was lying face down on the floor of their bedroom. She was sobbing deeply, interceding like he had never heard anyone before. Those four-hundred square feet of bedroom space had become holy ground, and he felt he could not step foot in there. Instead, he had turned around and come back downstairs, allowing her do as the Holy Spirit was leading.

  He could see that Tracy and John were getting frustrated. He understood what they were feeling; the same thing he’d be feeling if he had been tasked to be the go-to guy for something this important. They felt like individual failures.

  He’d had enough experience with police officers to know they had breaking points where they wanted to start throwing things; usually electronics of one variety or another. It was time for a mental break. But first he needed to check on Jenna.

  She was sitting alone in the living room, laptop on her legs, legs outstretched to the coffee table. He walked in and sat next to her.

  “How’re you doing, Jenna-Girl?”

  She frowned. “I’m not being much help. Am I?”

  He put his arm around her. “Honey, all any of us can do is what we can do. I’m not expecting anything beyond who you are, doing your best. If that translates into solutions? Wonderful. If it doesn’t? It’s only because you didn’t have the information you needed to solve the problem. It’s that simple.”

  She nodded. She was defeated and he could see it in her eyes.

  “Jenna, why don’t you go in and see if Karen could use some help. Ask her to give you her logic path, as she calls it.”

  Jenna gave a half smile, set her laptop aside, and walked into the dining room. Brent followed.

  “Okay, guys. Outside.”

  Both of them looked up at him quizzically.

  “Into the backyard. Now.”

  Both men got up and headed into the family room. Brent pointed them to the sliding door. “I’ll be out in a sec.”

  He went back into the kitchen and pulled out three Tropical XS Energy Drinks. They could all use the B12 boost. He looked to the table.

  “Jenna, want one?”

  “Are there any cranberry-grape ones left?”

  He grabbed a fourth can and walked it to his daughter. Then he headed outside.

  JENNA TURNED HER mother’s laptop back around to face, once again, where she had been sitting. Karen must have noticed the movement on her screen and looked up into her camera.

  “Hi, Jenna. How are you doing?”

  “Not great. Feel like I’m letting everyone down.”

  “You can only do what you can do.”

  “That’s what my dad just said.”

  “Smart man, your dad,” she said with a smile.

  “Can I help with anything? Dad told me to ask you about a logic path?”

  Jenna grabbed a pen and wrote down the mental path Karen had taken.

  “Hitch your horse to my wagon, and let’s see how far we can pull it together.”

  The analogy made Jenna laugh.

  She looked at what she had written and read each phrase carefully, making sure she understood how each connected to the other. A question came to mind.

  “Would the gods be mad?”

  “Hmm?”

  “The Picti gods. Would they be mad? You asked why they might be trying to gain their favor. Maybe they think they’re mad.”

  Karen’s eyes became a little wider and she sat up a little straighter. Jenna could see that she was evaluating her question, probably along with other things she had been reading or thinking about.

  “Oh … dear Jesus!” Fear lit up her eyes. “Jenna go get your dad. Hurry!”

  Jenna leapt from her chair and ran through the family room to the sliding door. She pulled it open and almost screamed for her dad.

  “Dad! Come quick!”

  BRENT RAN BACK to the house, followed closely by the other two men.

  “What is it, Jenna?”

  “Karen!”

  He ran past her and into the dining room. He leaned into Tara’s computer.

  “Karen, what is it? What did you find?”

  “It was Jenna. She was the catalyst that I needed. Brent, ‘A.C.’ It stands for Appeasement Ceremony. I’m sure of it! The gods are mad! Angry! Or, at least that’s what the group out there believes. They’ve got to make the gods happy again.”

  “Okay, but how?”

  “Brent, MacAlpin’s Treason!” She let out a guttur
al cry of frustration. “Why couldn’t I have seen this earlier?! Jenna, you may well be the hero of this night.” She tried to calm down.

  “More, Karen. I need more,” prompted Brent. Jenna could tell that his adrenaline was spiking.

  “MacAlpin was a Scot. In fact, he’s the one responsible for northern Scotland no longer being called Pictland. His people’s blood infected the Picts, ultimately they died as a culture through assimilation, not by the sword. This group in Pittston, they want to avenge the blood of their people with the blood of a Scot. And I’ll bet it’s not just any Scot. A group this organized, that has been this patient for decades to bring all of this to pass, would have targeted their sacrifice. They are going to kill someone tonight, Brent; someone from the bloodline of Kenneth MacAlpin!”

  Brent stood up straight, ignoring the stab of pain he had generated in his rib cage again. His breathing was becoming more rapid, his heart thumping hard in his chest. He knew she was right.

  He knew she was right, but …

  “It’s all circumstantial! We can’t call the state police with circumstantial evidence. No judge will issue a warrant on this alone.”

  Brent walked away from the laptop to look at the board. The clues. There were answers in there that they needed, and they needed them right now!

  He turned and looked at his team. To his right he heard footsteps descending the stairs. Tara looked drained as she approached, but determination was in her eyes.

  Brent turned back to those around the table. “John and Tracy, swap work. Fresh eyes on this. Jenna brought fresh eyes to Karen’s work, time for the two of you to do the same. Ask questions of each other, but ask them quick. We may have two lives to save this night!”

  He turned away and walked over to his wife. She looked so frail. “As for you, my warrior chick, I wish I could pour out in prayer like you’ve just done.”

  She laid a hand on his right cheek. “Baby, God gave you and me special gifts, both of which are working at full steam and in perfect harmony. Don’t doubt yourself.”

  She glanced toward the dining room table. “Sounds like something big has just happened.”

  “Yes. And there’s no doubt in my mind that it came about because of what you just did upstairs.” He leaned forward and gave her a big, noisy kiss on her forehead.

  She laughed. “Go get ’em, tiger.”

  Brent looked at his watch. 10:35.

  10:55 P.M.

  STEPHANIE STARED UP at the ceiling from her bed. She would try once more to concentrate, to tap into the Otherealm. She had need of Aldinar’s insights and wisdom. Why hadn’t he been meeting her? She needed her spirit guide as much now as she had ever needed him. He had always come … until recently.

  What was going on? This wasn’t the first time he had been silent.

  She sat up and brought her bare feet to the floor. The hardwood was cool beneath her soles. She grabbed her half-finished bottle of water and took another swig. This time, Brendan was the man who had come to her hydration rescue. He had even removed the top for her. It was small things like that which caused her to doubt her doubts about him.

  “You’ve got misgivings about … I don’t know what. But it’s real and it’s deep. You are… questioning your purpose and your self-worth.” Tara’s words again!

  Again!

  Stephanie felt like she was going mad. She had more voices going through her head than she could catalog. And they were all the wrong ones!

  “Damn you, Aldinar!” she cursed with a ragged growl. “Damn you for leaving me with these voices to contend with!”

  She stood up and began pacing.

  “He loves you, Stephanie. He loves you passionately. He wants to satisfy your heart, your soul, your spirit.”

  Stephanie felt suddenly weak. She reached for the support of her nightstand, but missed it. She fell forward, her legs unable to hold her upright any longer. She was blissfully unconscious before her head struck the floor with a crack.

  11:15 P.M.

  “OH NO.”

  It was John, this time.

  “What is it?” asked Brent.

  “I think I just solved another piece of the puzzle.”

  All attention focused on Eldredge.

  He continued. “BB/Cad. Pch. It’s a body bag.”

  “And the Cad…” Tracy began, but before he finished his question he already realized the answer. “Cadaver Pouch.” He looked into Brent’s eyes.

  Brent tried to keep everyone on an even keel. “Okay. I’m glad we can get past that part of the clue. We already knew they were planning a homicide. All we’ve gained with this is that they are going to be careful with the evidence. Keep going, guys. We’re pushing half-past eleven.”

  They were exhausted. Brent doubted that any of them had been involved in this much detective work. He knew he sure hadn’t.

  “Oh, and the ‘S.O.’?” prompted Brent.

  John pursed his lips and just shook his head.

  Brent walked to the board and added the additional information to the clue list. Then he made bold the areas that still needed solved.

  Th. a.m. A.C. = Thursday morning,

  Appeasement Ceremony

  • “AEA”: D.M. Rem. Tran. – ABCS & Arm. Sen. – Approx 1:00 a.m. -50 (10-50 = accident w/fatality)

  • A.C.: S.O. BB/Cad. Pch. = Appeasement Ceremony: body bag/cadaver pouch

  • Est. Ali. = Establish alibi?

  -18! = MISSION ACCOMPLISHED!

  Brent drew an angry line through the last statement. They were not going to allow that to become a reality.

  He walked over to Tracy Larkin. Maybe he could lend a not-so-fresh pair of eyes to the clues he was working on.

  Larkin looked up momentarily. “No clue on ‘Rem.’ I keep thinking ‘Tran.’ means either transmission or transportation. Both seem related, but I can’t make them fit the situation. Transportation seems redundant. ‘ABCS’? Anti-braking something system?”

  Brent was just as perplexed. He sat down at his own laptop and typed into a Bing search window what each man probably had done a dozen or more times before him:

  [abcs auto accident] and clicked the search icon.

  Lots of ABCs, but no ABCS. He tried something else.

  [“a.b.c.s.” auto accident]

  Nothing. He pounded his fist on the table, startling everyone.

  “Everything okay over there?” came Karen’s voice from in front of Tara.

  Tara answered, “Just blowing off some tension. We’re all right.”

  Jenna walked back into the dining room from the living room where she had tried to resume her assistance. Coming up behind her dad, she leaned over his right shoulder and kissed him on his cheek.

  “Love you, Daddy. You’re doing what you can do.”

  Tears welled up in his eyes as he reached over his shoulder with his right hand to keep his daughter’s head in place long enough to kiss her cheek.

  “You have no idea what that did for me just now,” he whispered.

  She gave him a soft smile then another kiss, this one on the crown of his head.

  God, you have blessed me greatly. Help me, Lord. Help me to bless the two people whose lives are in danger.

  It was almost midnight and they were losing.

  Tracy was of a mind to call the state police regardless of the evidence. Brent was almost of a mind to let him. But he knew that if a single state trooper rolled onto Brian Baird’s property, they’d first be asked to see a warrant, then denied admittance and told to leave. Then the whole thing would be scrubbed and the murder would just take place somewhere else at another time, with a lot fewer clues to go on than they had now.

  But at least they knew where the property was, and they knew who owned it. Donna’s information during the first night they’d met had given them Brendan’s true last name, Baird. It was just a matter of a property records search by one Officer John Eldredge that turned up his full name and location.

  A sickening thought struck B
rent just then. What if the remaining pieces to the clue they held were just as insignificant as ‘body bag’? That string of letters that had finally been solved had done nothing for them at all.

  The Ops Center was quiet, but for the sounds of breathing and the soft whirring of laptop fans. Everyone was staring blankly. He imagined Karen was doing the same thing. All the while, minute after precious minute was ticking away.

  There was only one thing left that he knew to do.

  Brent reached his left hand out to his wife. She gave him a sad smile and accepted his comfort. He could tell that she was misreading him.

  “Hon, take Tracy’s hand,” he directed.

  “Huh?” Tracy obviously didn’t know what to think.

  “John, take his other hand.”

  John grinned with realization and he latched onto the older cop’s left hand.

  “Now, wait a minute,” Larkin objected. “I am not going to participate—”

  “Jenna? Will you come in here and join us?”

  He heard Tara tell Karen in a low voice that they were going to pray.

  Jenna walked in, pulled out a chair, and curled a leg under herself as she took her dad’s and John Eldredge’s hands.

  Brent looked Tracy in the eyes and said with a smirk, “This won’t hurt too much.”

  A reverential silence settled upon them, then Brent began to pray aloud.

  “Heavenly Father, we love you. Even in the midst of such a heavy burden, we are grateful for who you are in our lives. We acknowledge our dependence on you, and we humbly ask for your help right now.

  “Based on what we’ve learned, Father, there are at least two people out there who are in grave danger. We need your help in order to save them.

  “Father, we’ve got some clues here that we haven’t been able to solve. I’m hoping that they’ve been worth all of this effort, and if they are, then we ask you to open our eyes and minds to what they mean. Help us to save some lives tonight. We give you the honor and the praise. In the name of Jesus we ask these things and stand in agreement. Amen.”