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Possessed (A Jenny Watkins Mystery Book 7)

Page 16

by Becky Durfee


  “That would be great,” Cheryl said. “I know it’s behind us, but I would love to know what Addy was saying.”

  “Addy wasn’t saying anything,” Dr. Wilson interjected. “The person who went by Winding River was doing the talking; Addy was simply a mechanism.”

  Jenny ignored him. “There are a few more comments here. The man values the dollar above all else.

  “The great seer can differentiate between selfishness and selflessness. Our way will ultimately be rewarded.

  “The pigs fear us, so they seek to destroy us.

  “Jove values loyalty above all else; love and nature nearly broke his spirit with their betrayal.

  “The pigs come in and ruin everything. They always have.

  “Breaking man-made laws does not make a person evil; selfishness embodies evil.

  “The man values conformity above honor.”

  Jenny flipped the page to read more quotes, but there was nothing else written. “This looks like the end of it.”

  “That’s it for what she said,” Cheryl explained. “The stuff she said tended to be mild in comparison to how she acted. If you flip to the back of the notebook, you will see everything she did.”

  Jenny looked at the last pages of the book, which chronicled swearing and spitting at the police and politicians, both in person and on television. There were a lot of incidents on the list.

  “It seemed any time a man in a suit gave a speech about the state of the union or his political campaign, she got angry,” Cheryl explained. “I had never seen anything like it. And that was just on television…the worst was when we’d see a police officer in person—then she’d really go ballistic. It was frightening and mortifying all at the same time.”

  Jenny glossed over some of the things Addy had shouted at the police; that small child could have made a sailor blush. “Oh, my,” was all she said.

  “I know,” Cheryl replied. “I am so glad that phase of our lives is behind us. The funny thing is, Addy doesn’t even remember doing it.” She held up her hand in Dr. Wilson’s direction as he opened his mouth to speak. “I know…it wasn’t her saying it. There’s no way a kindergartener would have known even half those crazy words she spit out. But it still came out of her mouth, and it was…” She shook her head and sucked in a deep breath. “…dreadful.”

  “I can imagine,” Jenny said sincerely. “The only thing I can say that might make it a little bit better for you is that I can call up Troy and try to decipher some of these more cryptic messages. As for trying to solve the mystery about who killed all those people, Winding River talked about the man being out to get them, but he also talked about the devastated feeling Jove had when Troy and Sabrina left. It’s like he provided evidence against both suspects.”

  Cheryl made a guilty face. “Sorry about that.”

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Jenny said. “This has been very informative.” A residual sneeze from that pass through the house crept up on Jenny. She managed to pull it off without wetting herself, which made her want to stand up and throw her arms in the air in triumph. However, she remained silent in her chair, keeping her minor victory to herself. “Oh, excuse me,” she said. “That came out of nowhere.”

  Cheryl and Zack simultaneously said, “Bless you.”

  “Thanks. As I was saying, any information is good information. I may not know where these puzzle pieces go, but the more pieces I have, the more likely I am to see the whole picture.”

  “But here’s my question,” Cheryl asked. “If the sheriff is dead, and this Jove character is dead, what will Winding River have to gain by figuring out the truth? It’s not like anybody can serve time for this.”

  “Solace,” Jenny said with sympathy. “If we can figure out who really killed all those people, Winding River’s spirit can finally enjoy some solace.”

  Chapter 16

  Zack tiptoed into the hotel room, closing the door quietly behind him. Jenny could feel his presence appear from around the corner.

  “Don’t worry,” she called from the bed, “I’m awake.”

  With that, Zack tossed his keys noisily onto the dresser. “Okay. I just wasn’t sure if you were napping or not.”

  “Nope. Just resting. How did it go?” Jenny drew in a deep breath and relished in how comfortable she was, surrounded by pillows on a soft mattress. She almost felt like she wasn’t even pregnant.

  Almost.

  Zack walked around the bed and plopped down into a lying position in one not-so-graceful motion. “Well, I didn’t find out a whole lot by talking to the police; the only thing I learned was that a Babson has been sheriff in Bedford for seventy-two years straight. First, it was the great-uncle or something, then this guy’s father, and now this guy. But afterward, I headed to the local library. It turns out the head librarian, Edna, has lived here her whole life, and she prides herself on knowing the history of the entire county—and boy does she like to talk.”

  Jenny giggled. “What did she say?”

  “Well, her son, Todd, just moved with his family to Missouri since he got promoted and all, and her sister, Betty, has won first place in the pie contest at the county fair for ten years running. She uses fresh blueberries, you know, never the canned stuff.”

  She gave Zack a stiff elbow to the ribs. “What did she have to say about Eden?”

  “Oh, you want to know about Eden.” He slid his arm around Jenny and pulled her in closer. “Why didn’t you say so?”

  Jenny smiled and playfully rolled her eyes. “You’re such a goof.”

  “You flatter me. Okay, so apparently Eden used to be an old farm, owned by the Hillerman family. When I say old, I mean old…we’re talking 1800s. But by the time the 1940s and 50s rolled around, the economy had changed, and the Hillermans stopped running the farm and got more industrialized jobs. From what Edna remembered, the farm sat empty for quite some time.

  “In the early sixties, Roger and a handful of friends moved in, living that counter-culture lifestyle. It was a bit of a shock for the longtime residents in Bedford; they had been a God-fearing, conservative community, and then all of a sudden these flower children invaded. You can imagine the reaction.”

  “Betty and Edna must have been none too pleased.”

  “Exactly. Apparently, word got out about this little community, in an underground sort of way, and it became a destination for both hippies and draft dodgers. People would show up there, asking to join The Family, and they would essentially vanish from the real world.”

  “Draft dodgers,” Jenny repeated. “I hadn’t considered that.”

  “It makes sense, and I thought about it on the way home…didn’t Addy mention something about Joe not being able to kill people so he had to disappear?”

  Jenny gasped with realization. “She sure did. Is it possible that this Joe is Winding River…or used to be Winding River…or is the person Winding River used to be?” She shook her head. “I don’t know how to say it right, but maybe Joe got drafted, so he headed to Eden and became Winding River.”

  “That sounds reasonable to me.”

  “I need to call Kyle again.”

  “I think so. But there’s more to this story…as Eden grew bigger and the hippies became more of a nuisance, the people of Bedford started demanding some change. They were tired of having their stuff taken, even though it usually got put back. They were fully aware of the drug usage and the indiscriminant sex, and they felt like their town had been infiltrated by a bunch of sinners. They wanted Sheriff Babson—the father, that is—to do something about it, but his hands were tied. Like Troy told you, the charges against The Family would never stick, and the judge even started to get upset with the sheriff for harassing The Family.”

  “It must have been a progressive-thinking judge.”

  “Agreed. But as you can imagine, the people were becoming more and more upset that they weren’t seeing any results, and the blame was falling squarely on Sheriff Babson’s shoulders. Word was getting a
round that maybe it was time for a new sheriff—one with a different last name, who would actually be able to do something about The Family. And wouldn’t you know, 1968—the year the murder took place—was an election year.”

  “Get out.”

  “Uh-huh. Quite a nice little motive, don’t you think?”

  “Wow, it sure is,” Jenny said. “Maybe there’s some merit to Winding River’s theory after all.”

  “I’m not sure how we would go about proving that, though—one way or the other.”

  “Hopefully Kyle’s information will be helpful. He hasn’t called me back, yet, though. Well, he did call me back, but it was to tell me that he had to spend the morning following a cheating husband around town. He said he’d try to get to our case as soon as he could.”

  “What about Troy? Did you have any luck with him?”

  “I left a message, but I haven’t heard from him. I did take some time to look up a little bit about the Roman God, Jove, though, and what I discovered was pretty interesting.”

  “Oh yeah? What did you find out?”

  “Well, Jove was another name for Jupiter, the Roman equivalent of Zeus…you know, the God of all Gods. He ruled the universe and created all human laws, expressing his dissatisfaction with people’s behavior by hurling lightning at them and whatnot.”

  “Wow. It’s a bit…pretentious of him to call himself that, no?”

  “He seems like he was a pretentious guy. From the sound of it, Roger Hillerman considered himself to be the man in charge. In his mind, he may have been the God of all Gods.”

  “Silly Roger,” Zack said. “Everybody knows that title belongs to me.”

  The couple settled into a comfortable silence, after which Zack put his hand on Jenny’s belly and said, “How’s little Steve doing today?”

  “You mean Ashley? She’s fine. I think she’s practicing her tap dancing routine in there. She’s been really active today.”

  “It’s football practice.”

  “Oh, okay, we’ll just see about that.” After another extended period of quiet, Jenny asked, “Will you be disappointed if the baby is a girl?”

  “Disappointed? No. Terrified? Yes. If by some bizarre twist of fate this baby does come out a girl, I’m going to pray that she’s a lesbian. That way she won’t have to deal with boys. Boys are pigs—I know; I am one.”

  “But what if this baby is a heterosexual female? Then what?”

  “Then I buy a gun. Or eight. And I start lifting weights. And maybe get tattoo sleeves.”

  Jenny patted his arm as she enjoyed the comfort of lying with him. Her mind began to wander a little bit, and she eventually posed, “Do you think Betty and Edna fought when they were kids?”

  “It would be hard to picture, when you consider what Edna looks like now. And knowing that Betty bakes pies for the county fair—somehow I can’t envision them throwing punches at each other.”

  “It doesn’t have to involve punches. Do you think they got along?”

  “I have no idea,” Zack replied. “Where is this coming from?”

  Jenny sighed. “I was just thinking about how many kids we should have. I grew up in a family of four, and we all got along pretty well, but when I consider how much you and your brother hated each other…”

  “And still do.”

  “…and still do, it scares me. I would hate to have multiple children who couldn’t stand each other. Having met your mother, I am under the impression that she did a good job raising you and Tim—I just think you guys are so opposite that there’s nothing she could have done to make you like each other.”

  “It is true; my mother tried like hell to get us to get along, but it just wasn’t happening.”

  “Exactly.”

  Zack pulled Jenny in even tighter. “You do realize that we don’t have to decide on how many kids we want right at this moment. We can let little Steve come out and say hello first, and then we can see how it goes.”

  “But there’s some pressure on my end. What if this baby doesn’t have psychic ability? Knowing how rare the gift is, shouldn’t I try again? And how many kids would I have to have before I give up on having a psychic child?”

  “Why do you do this to yourself?”

  Jenny drew in a deep breath and let it out in a slow exhale. “I think it comes from that second X chromosome.”

  “All the more reason this baby needs to come out with a penis.”

  At that moment, Jenny’s cell phone rang from across the room. “Let me get that,” Zack said. “You stay put.”

  She smiled as he climbed out of bed; he was a good man, and she knew it. Somehow, that simple gesture calmed her fears, even though the two topics were completely unrelated.

  “It’s Troy,” he informed her, holding out the phone.

  “Ooh.” Jenny sat up quickly, eagerly placing the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Jenny, it’s Troy Bauer. I got your message…you wanted me to call you?”

  “Yes, in fact I did. How are you doing today?”

  “Can’t complain. How about yourself?”

  “I can’t complain either.” She got out of bed and walked over to the desk, taking a piece of paper from the notepad the hotel had provided and fishing a pen from her purse. “I do have a couple of questions for you, if you don’t mind answering them.”

  “For you, darling? Of course I don’t mind.”

  “I have dug up some names, and I’m wondering if you could tell me if they mean anything to you.”

  “Okay, fire away.”

  “Well, first of all, I assume that you and Sabrina were Love and Nature.”

  He remained quiet on the other end for quite some time before quietly saying, “Yeah…she was Love; I was Nature.”

  “I’m sorry,” Jenny replied. “Is this making you sad? I don’t want to upset you.” She hadn’t considered that discussing Sabrina, who was deceased, may have been difficult.

  “Sad?” Troy asked. “No, sad isn’t the word. Nostalgic, maybe, but not sad.”

  “It’s not too hard to talk about Sabrina?”

  “Nah. Sabrina and I didn’t last but a few years after we left Eden. It’s one thing to be young and high and running around having fun together—it’s something entirely different to have a job and a kid to take care of. We grew up real fast after Tristan came along, and we found that we didn’t do well together as adults. We got along well enough over the years—we had to…we had a son together—but she and I didn’t last that long as a couple.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that,” Jenny said.

  Troy’s gruff voice and likable personality came through loud and clear as he said, “Aaahhhh. Nothing to be sorry for.”

  Jenny smiled, adding, “Well, in that case, do you happen to remember anybody named Winding River?”

  “Winding River…yeah, he was a piece of work, that one. He was very high strung…his moods were all over the place.”

  “When did he join The Family, do you know?”

  “It was after I did, and I joined in 1965. I can’t tell you exactly when it was, though.”

  “Well,” Jenny replied, “maybe I can find that out myself. So you say Winding River was moody—can you give me some examples?”

  “I don’t know if I can think of anything specific off the top of my head, but I just remember he was very unpredictable. He’d get angry sometimes and it seemed like it came out of nowhere.”

  “Do you think the drugs had anything to do with his mood swings?”

  “I’m sure they didn’t help,” Troy said, “but none of the rest of us was as batshit crazy as he was, and we were all doing the same drugs.”

  “Why did he call himself Winding River, do you know?”

  “Because he flowed in whatever direction he felt like. He carved his own path; it didn’t get chosen for him.”

  Jenny silently marveled at just how deep the meanings behind these names were. “I realize I’m probably grasping at straws here, but are yo
u aware if his birth name was Joe?”

  “I don’t know anybody’s birth name but Sabrina’s.”

  “Fair enough,” Jenny replied. Her phone beeped, signaling another call. A quick glance showed her it was Kayla on the other line; she figured she would just return the call once she was done talking to Troy. “Okay, how about Gentle Giant? Do you remember that name?”

  “Gentle Giant…yeah, I remember that guy. He was one tall drink of water. He had to be six-five or six-six, and just as skinny as they come. Long red hair and a beard to match. He was kind of an ugly and gangly thing, but like his name suggests, he wouldn’t have hurt a flea. He’d have given you the shirt off his back if you needed it.”

  Jenny thought back to her vision at Eden, and the man carrying the basket of vegetables fit Gentle Giant’s description perfectly. Her heart grew heavy for a moment, knowing that kind man had met such a horrible fate at a shamefully young age. Suddenly, her quest to find the truth became much more personal. With renewed vigor, she continued, “If I say that Gentle Giant bore the brunt of the man’s wrath, would that mean anything to you?”

  Troy remained quiet, presumably as he thought, and then he said, “He was facing charges there at the end. Him, specifically, not just us as a whole like it usually was.”

  “Do you remember what the charges were for?”

  “Theft.” Troy actually let out a chuckle. “He was charged with stealing someone’s wheelbarrow. He had gone into town in the middle of the night on his bike, looking to find a wheelbarrow he could borrow for a few days. He found one, but he hadn’t thought the whole thing through very well. How was he supposed to bike home with a wheelbarrow? So he rode his bike home, then he walked back out to get the wheelbarrow. By the time he was heading home, the sun was up, and apparently some people had seen him with it. I mean, you don’t rightly forget seeing a six-and-a-half-foot-tall redhead walking around pushing a wheelbarrow at seven in the morning. And since he was the only one at Eden who even remotely fit the description, the police knew it was him. We weren’t being charged with possession of stolen property this time—Gentle Giant was being hit with actual theft.”

 

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