by David Carner
“You know I do not understand why you say this is our song. You were born in Kentucky. I just think you liked to sing that song to me any chance you got,” she said. John’s mouth was open. He stared at the road, jerked the wheel and then straightened the car and looked back.
“I’m still here,” she said.
John pinched himself three times and kept looking over at the passenger seat. Sam waved.
“You know for a world class detective, you’re an idiot,” she said smiling. Sam was smiling the million watt smile that had won John’s heart. All John could think about was how he missed her. She was so beautiful. “Now don’t start crying or you’ll wreck the car and kill yourself,” she scolded. John nodded.
“Mister Detective, think. Is this really me?” She chided.
John looked at her. She was solid, at least she looked solid. He reached out to touch her, but stopped. He was afraid if he went down that road he could be looking at a stay at the funny farm.
“Ok, if you were a ghost,” John began. Sam gave him a withering look. Sam was an absolute skeptic, which had some irony given the current situation. He continued, “If you were a ghost, the chances of you being here, solid-looking for this long are minute from everything I’ve read. And besides, you always swore you wouldn’t haunt me.” Sam smiled. “No, this is most likely my subconscious telling me you and I need to have a conversation.” Sam looked bemused.
“You mean about the fact that you keep saying it’s not fair of you to not move on with your life after three years?” Sam asked. “Or, one of my favorites, how it’s your fault I’m dead? Last time I checked, Sweetie, you didn’t set the bomb that blew up the apartment and you were over a block away from the apartment when it blew. Or wait, this one is definitely my favorite; every time you get close to Jessica you back off, because you’re afraid of losing someone in a relationship and blame it on your lack of,” Sam used air quotes, “’game’?”
John spun in the seat, shocked. “Are you trying to say that I have commitment issues because of what happened to you!?!”
“You’re subconscious is the one saying that, not me, remember? What I would say is that you are scared. What I’m also saying is someone is having issues if the first time you see your dead wife is three years after she died. Although, I have to admit you did a fine job wallowing in self-pity those three years. You should have gotten some kind of award for that.”
“You think I’m using you as a way to stay away from Jessica!?!” John exclaimed.
“I think it’s time to admit you’re alone in this car arguing with yourself. That’s the kind of thing that will get you a trip to the little room with the suit that lets you hug yourself.” Sam looked John right into his eyes. “It’s time to live, John.”
Tears welled in John’s eyes. “I miss you, Sam.” John’s voice cracked.
“Well if you don’t pay attention to the road, you’re going to see me a lot sooner than you expected,” said Sam.
John whipped around to watch the road. When he turned back to Sam, she was gone. John flipped the dial around on the radio trying out different current music stations. After about five minutes of no luck, he settled on an oldies station. John found a band singing one of his favorites.
“Ok, time to move on with my life, but crazy subconscious or no, I’m still listening to my music,” John said out loud. He swore he heard Sam say, “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”
Chapter 39
As John pulled into the little sleepy town where Archibald Industries was located, he was reminded of his hometown around this time on Sunday mornings. Some stores were open, but there were very few people out. John pulled into the parking lot of Archibald Industries. Down the street he saw a huge house with no cars to be seen, and no signs of life. There was a for sale sign in the yard that appeared to have been there for many years. The house was very out of place. It was much too large compared to the other houses and shops. John was sure that was where the owner of Archibald Industries used to live.
John was certain he had found the epicenter of this case. Somewhere in this little town was the cause of what led to the quadruple homicide he was investigating. John looked around and noticed someone walking around the grounds of the big house. John jumped into his car and drove over to try and talk to the man.
As John pulled up the drive, the man walked over to him.
“You interested in buying the place?” He asked.
“No, sir, I am working with the FBI on a case, and wondered if you could answer a few questions,” said John. The man looked around to see if anyone was watching. The caretaker looked very distrusting of John.
“Look, I only have one real question. The man who owned this house, was there a particular church that he attended?” John asked. The man brightened right up, and then started to look a little nervous.
“Yes, sir, he did. Um, would you mind not telling anyone there you saw me today? I needed to get a few things done . . .” John interrupted him.
“You have nothing to fear; in fact I don’t even know your name. NO!! Don’t tell me!” John had to stop the caretaker before he blurted it out. “All I want to know is where is the church and what is its name?”
“That’s easy. He attended Double Forks Southern Missionary Baptist Church,” the caretaker replied. John nodded. The caretaker gave him the directions and John thanked him. John drove over to the church, found an empty parking spot, parked his car and looked around. The lot was full, and the large bell on top of the steeple had just finished ringing. John stood and was surprised how much it reminded him of home. As he stood there, he listened to the music that came out of the church. The congregation had begun singing a familiar hymn, in fact it had been his mother’s favorite when he was growing up.
John hesitated. He hadn’t been to church in three years. As he stood there trying to muster the strength to walk into the doors, he could hear his mother. It was the day of Sam’s funeral and the last time they had talked.
“Not only should you go to church,” John remembered her saying, “but it would do you some good. God didn’t fail you, John. What happened, it happened for a reason. God didn’t make that person blow up your apartment. You don’t blame God for an evil man doing evil things. Did God stop whoever from blowing it up? No. But there’s a reason it all happened, John, and you need to accept that before you can move forward. Sam would want you to move forward, John. You need to believe that.”
John had to agree with her. Man, in one day he had seen his late wife, and remembered the last discussion he had with his mother. He didn’t know how much more of these trips down memory lane he could take. John smiled and opened the door to the church. He heard the lyrics as he walked through the door. “I once was lost, but now I’m found, was blind, but now I see.”
Brother Jim
Pastor of Double Forks Southern Missionary Baptist Church
Chapter 40
Brother Jim noticed the man walk in dressed in only what he could call a FBI suit. As the congregation was singing, Jim realized the moment he had been waiting for had finally come. For over twenty-five years Brother Jim kept waiting for someone to question him. He knew this day had been coming, but for some reason instead of fear, he felt relief.
The past few weeks he had been jumping every time the phone rang, or a strange car drove through town. Ever since Brother Jim had read about the death of Captain Jason Sparks and then the quadruple murders, he knew it was a matter of time before someone came to ask him some questions.
Brother Jim had been with the church for over forty years. He knew some preachers left and went to serve at another church but he had never felt the Lord lead him anywhere else. In fact, ever since Beth and David George disappeared, he knew he wouldn’t be leaving this church until this day came.
The service continued as normal. Brother Jim watched the FBI agent. To Brother Jim’s surprise, the agent sang the songs, and honestly seemed to feel as at home as someone could be while visit
ing a church.
When Brother Jim stood up to preach, he laughed to himself the irony of the days message, God’s forgiveness. Brother Jim knew in his heart he did nothing wrong, but he still had regret. He had regret that he hadn’t done more. He had no proof what happened that day; just what he suspected. Brother Jim smiled, and stepped to the podium.
“Brothers and Sisters, let me welcome you to the Lord’s house,” he paused waiting for the scattering of Amens. “I have an announcement to make before I begin. Tonight, there will be no service. Tonight, I would like you to check on those in this town that are less fortunate than others, perhaps have a group meal. Tonight, we need to take care of those who need our help. We need to take care of those who don’t have the ability to do for themselves what needs to be done. Now if you will open your Bible. . .” Brother Jim began to preach. After the message was over, he went to the back of the church as always and shook hands with each person that walked out until the only person left was the FBI agent. Brother Jim smiled; he was ready to lift the burden he had been carrying all of these years off of his shoulders.
John Fowler
Double Forks Southern Missionary Baptist Church
Chapter 41
As John sat in the service and listened to the preacher, he thought about how everyone had been addressing each other. At most places, it was Reverend so and so, or Pastor so and so, but not here, and not at John’s home church. Where he grew up, it was Brother so and so, and Sister so and so. He saw this church was exactly the same as the one he grew up in. As the preacher spoke, John wondered if this was a wild goose chase that would lead to a dead end. Whatever happened in this town, happened over twenty-five years ago. He knew it was possible this was the same preacher, but it was also very possible it wasn’t.
As the service ended, John tried to stay in the back of the crowd to make sure he was the last one to go through the door. It was very hard. Many of the members had come up to him and were shaking his hand and inviting him for a meal that afternoon or evening. John politely declined them all explaining he would probably be heading toward his parents’ home. John wondered what had brought out that answer. He looked around the church and he knew. This place so reminded him of home. Maybe if he could get everything cleared up today, John would go visit his parents.
As the last member of the congregation left, John stepped through the door. The preacher reached out his hand and spoke.
“FBI?” Brother Jim asked. John was taken aback for a second and looked down at his suit. There was a certain something about it that screamed “G-Man”. John nodded.
“Sir, I have a question about some children that would have lived here over twenty-five years ago,” said John.
“Let’s walk outside. There are some things that don’t need to be talked about inside a church. While there are many bad things that are discussed in the Bible, what happened in this town isn’t one of those things I want to talk about in this building.” Brother Jim led John outside. John thought he was finally on the right track. Had he finally stumbled on, in this little town, what had led to all of these murders? More importantly, how did the preacher fit in? John followed, anxious for the answers.
Chapter 42
It was warm for February. John and the preacher sat down on the steps of the porch of the church. John extended his hand to the preacher. Brother Jim looked a little confused.
“I’m John, John Fowler. If I’m going to question someone, you need to know my name.” Brother Jim smiled and shook John’s hand. Brother Jim stood up and looked out to the wooded areas around the church.
“Agent Fowler,” Brother Jim began. John interrupted him.
“John. Just John.”
“Fair enough, John,” Brother Jim said smiling. “Can I ask you specifically why you’re here?”
“I’m here about the deaths of five different people: Jason Sparks, Tom Bradley, Amy Jensen, Leroy Jenkins, and Colt McCormick. All of these individuals grew up in this general vicinity. Excuse me, let me correct myself, four of them may have moved here and then moved away later in their youth.” John was looking the preacher in his eyes. The preacher dropped John’s gaze and looked down at the ground. Brother Jim smiled as he looked back at John.
“John, you’re wrong. I’ve been waiting for you, sir. I’ve been waiting for you for over two decades.” John was astonished at the preacher’s revelation.
“I’m wrong?” John asked. “Sir, not to be rude, but I have five bodies that say otherwise.”
“John, if I’m right about what happened, you have six bodies, and if this goes the way I think it will, you’ll have seven before this is over with. You’ve stumbled onto something that has been brewing for over twenty five years. You’ve stumbled onto what some would call a conspiracy. I wouldn’t. I simply call it like I see it. You have stumbled upon the biggest spoiled brat getting exactly what she wanted no matter how many innocent people had to die for her to get it!” John was confused. He didn’t know what to think, but he wasn’t leaving this preacher or town, until he had the answers he wanted. If he had to, he was prepared to arrest Brother Jim and bring him back with him. The preacher looked very old suddenly. It was obvious to John that whatever had happened here, it had bothered Brother Jim for a very long time. The guilt on the preacher’s face was heartbreaking. John wanted to feel for the man, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he knew what had happened here that caused five deaths. Brother Jim continued.
“I don’t know much, sir, but I will tell you everything I do know. All I ask is you understand something. I am a man, and a man makes mistakes. I have regretted the mistake I made all those years ago and every day after it.” Jim felt a burden starting to lift of his chest. “I’m sorry. I’m speaking in riddles. Let me tell you what I know happened, and then if you’re interested I’ll tell you what I think happened after that.”
Chapter 43
John leaned back against the pillars on the porch and listened. Brother Jim fought back the tears in his eyes. He sighed and began.
“You have to understand, first, the time that we are talking about. I think the plant came into the community in ’82 or ’83. There wasn’t much here, John. Mostly farmers and a few miners were still here. The majority of the mines had shut down by this time. There was so little down there and the accidents . . . well, it just wasn’t worth it.”
“When Mr. Staples approached the town about building here, it was . . . well it was like answered prayers. We let him have all sorts of tax breaks. We just needed to have the jobs. We understood it was mostly the manual labor jobs, at first, the townsfolk could apply for. It didn’t matter. I don’t know how much you remember about that time, but people were seeing 18% interest rates on their homes. It was a bad time, John, and sometimes in bad times, you don’t look too hard when someone offers you a gift.”
Jim looked at John, “I don’t want to sound like I’m not grateful to the man, and no matter how hard we dug, we never would have known about his daughter . . . Veronica. You know how there are some people out there that think the sun was made to shine on them? Well, whoever they are, they are saints compared to Veronica Staples.”
John was confused about the whole conversation. The name Veronica was gnawing at him. It finally dawned on him, the note the killer left, “Tell Veronica she’s next.” John’s mind was racing trying to put together pieces of the puzzle. He looked at Brother Jim; John’s eyes were dancing. Jim had paused his story after noticing John was trying to figure things out.
“Brother Jim, you’ve just mentioned a name that is connected to this case that hasn’t been in any of the papers.” Jim sighed, and looked at the ground. When he brought his head back up he looked remorseful.
“I was afraid of that. Let me continue and you’ll understand soon.” John nodded and Jim continued.
“When Veronica first showed up, she seemed to be the sweetest angel, and then I overheard some kids talking about her one day. They all said the same thing; when no adult
s were around, she treated everyone like dirt. Now, that’s nothing new in that age of a child, but when I one day witnessed it . . . John, it was like she thought some of these children should worship her. But I’m skipping ahead, let me back up.”
“Some people were brought in from other plants, and of course they brought their children with them. These children, Veronica and two of the local children were in the same Sunday school class together. Tom Bradley, Amy Jensen, Leroy Jenkins, Colt McCormick, Veronica Nichols, local kid Jason Sparks, and another local kid whose name you haven’t heard yet if I have my guess, Beth George.”
Now John had two names that he didn’t have before this trip. John felt there was more. He waited. Brother Jim wasn’t going to quit now. Not when he had so much guilt welled up inside. Brother Jim gathered his thoughts and continued.
“For the next oh, five or six years, they were inseparable. Sure they attended different schools, but in the summer, they went everywhere together, and they had a tag along, Beth’s little brother, David George. Another name I’m sure you don’t have yet.”
Brother Jim stopped. John waited. John saw the tears starting to flow down Jim’s cheeks.
“John, it’s my fault. I knew. I knew and I could have stopped it. It’s the same as if I pulled the trigger to kill all of them myself.” John sat on the porch watching the preacher break down and sob uncontrollably, understanding exactly how the man felt.
Chapter 44
Brother Jim sobbed for a few minutes. John sat lost in his thoughts. Here was a man of God blaming himself for all five deaths, and unless John had completely lost his detective skills, Jim had nothing to do with the actual deaths. The irony was not lost on John.
