3 Gates of the Dead (The 3 Gates of the Dead Series)

by Ryan, Jonathan

  “Just forget I said anything. Let’s see what’s in the box.”

  “Allow me,” she said, taking a knife in her gloved hand and cutting the packing tape down the middle. Jen opened the box, and we gasped.

  The box contained a CD in a plastic case with the word “Nebo,” in English this time, written in black marker across it.

  “A CD? Can’t be music,” I said. “More like files, I would guess. I doubt she would go through this much trouble for music.”

  Jennifer picked it up. “I agree. Wonder what’s on it?”

  We both stared at the disk as if we somehow had the ability to read what was on it. I looked up at the boxes again. “You are going to have to take this stuff in, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. Her family is just going to have to wait.”

  I nodded. I needed to call them, but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it, especially if they thought I might be a suspect.

  “Did you tell him tha-”

  “Yes,” Jen interrupted. “They no longer think you are a suspect in their daughter’s murder from what they told me.”

  “Good.” I breathed.

  “Excuse me a second. I need to call in forensics.”

  Jennifer hurried back to her car and grabbed her cell phone. As she spoke, I saw a small yellow corner peeking up through the flap at the bottom of the box. I worked the cardboard a bit and pulled out an envelope.

  I looked back at Jennifer. She was still talking on the phone. I opened the envelope and found a hand-written letter inside.

  Aidan,

  Find Father Neal. You won’t survive when they wake “him” if you don’t. Take care of Bishop. The disk contains pictures of the next place. Will see you again. Forgive me.

  Love,

  Amanda

  “What are you reading?” Jennifer walked in without me hearing her.

  I closed the letter. “Oh nothing, just some old seminary notes I pulled from one of my boxes.”

  I didn’t want to tell Jennifer about the note until I could figure it out, so I changed the subject as we exited the shed. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Yes, but I can’t guarantee I will answer it.”

  “Fair enough. Why did you pick out the box with the Hebrew writing?”

  Jennifer stared straight ahead, looking at the cemetery behind the storage shed. She didn’t say anything for a few moments and then looked back at me. “Her head.”

  “What?”

  “Amanda’s head.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  She grimaced. “When I saw her body, there were cuts in her forehead. At first, we thought they were just random knife wounds, products of the attack. When the coroner got a closer look, she realized they were some kind of code, but no one knew it was Hebrew. You filled in that little detail.”

  I had to brace myself to keep from swaying. My mind swam with images of Amanda screaming as some sick freak carved Hebrew letters into her head. I didn’t want to imagine how long it took for that to happen.

  “This just gets more hellish.”

  “You said it, preacher.”

  “Will you tell me what’s on that disk?”

  Jennifer turned, her hard eyes examining as she played with her scar. “I’ll call you when I know.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  After forensics arrived, Jen dropped me off at the church before going back to the storage shed. I couldn’t help thinking about how boring my life had been up to that point. I had lost my faith and been accused — as well as cleared — of an ex-fiancée’s murder, not to mention met the force-of-nature woman detective investigating her murder. There didn’t seem to be any rhyme or reason to any of it. I would have thought God moved in mysterious ways, but I was pretty sure that was a lie. Still, I had so many questions. What about Amanda’s note? Who was Father Neal? And who was this sleeping guy? Was “he” the same one she talked about in her last letter?

  A cold sensation ran through my body as I remembered the voice at the hospital, Joseph’s words in Edna’s dream, and the footprints in two different locations that didn’t seem to have any connection.

  The familiar rock in my stomach returned as I entered the office area and saw a woman who was completely out of place for our church. She sat in one of our semi-comfortable couches that made our waiting area seem like a glorified doctor’s office, except our magazines were worse. We had reading material like Christian Living or Southern Christian Hospitality — an addition of our secretary’s.

  Sherry looked up from her reading. “Pastor Schaeffer, this is Ms. Zoe Othmeyer and she is here to see you.”

  Zoe looked to be in her early forties and had long stringy gray hair that hung down to her chest. She had earrings that dangled to her shoulders and a stone cross around her neck. Her faded green sweater was probably in style back in the 1960’s, and I wondered if she was a hippie who had just recently decided to enter society.

  “Pastor Schaeffer?” she asked in a high breathy sort of voice that reminded me of Julie Haggerty from the movie Airplane.

  “Yes, can I help you?”

  “May I speak with you in private?”

  “Oh, um, well, to be honest, Ms. Othmeyer, it’s been a long day. I was just getting some stuff from my office.”

  “Please, call me Zoe. It means ‘life’ you know.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  “Please, Reverend Schaeffer, it’s important.” She looked at me intently, her eyes moving back and forth as if searching for something in my face.

  I stared back at her for a moment in silent tension. “Okay sure, Zoe, I can spare a few minutes. And please, call me Aidan. Right this way.”

  We went into my office, and I sat down at my desk. Zoe, however, walked around to study my books and let out little exclamations as she read each title.

  “Ah, St. Thomas, very profound! Mystical! Made me feel the mystery! Mmm, Mr. Calvin, not so nice. Still, some excellent points about communing with God.”

  “Um, Zoe?”

  She gazed back at me as if she had forgotten I was there. She gave a sheepish grin and sat down. “Yes, I’m sorry. My message.”

  I turned my chair around to face her and tensed as she grasped my hands.

  “It’s so wonderful to meet you. I heard about you a bit from Amanda when she was alive. Now, she can’t stop talking about you.”

  She gripped my hands tightly, and I winced. She wasn’t strong, but her hands buzzed with some kind of hidden energy. It felt like she was holding one of those cheap joy buzzers you used to be able to get out of the back of comic books. My hands vibrated along with hers, and the tingle began to spread up my arms.

  “You knew Amanda?”

  “Know, Aidan. I know her. You speak as if Amanda has stopped existing.”

  “Well, she’s dead,” I said, my throat constricting.

  “That she is, but dead doesn’t mean what you seem to think. In fact, she is with us right now.”

  I pulled my hands from her grasp and shoved my chair back to get away from her.

  “What did you say?”

  She smiled. “Amanda is standing right by you.”

  I looked and saw nothing. This woman was just bat-shit crazy. “Zoe, I’m guessing you are some nice lady who read about Amanda in the paper? Are you here just to … why are you here?”

  “I told you. Amanda has a message for you. She won’t let me rest until I give it. They never do, you know.”

  I looked around the office even though I knew there would be nothing to see. This woman was probably harmless, but I wanted her out of there. I didn’t want her to freak out, so I figured I would have to edge her on her way as best I could. “Um, right, she came to you after she was dead?”

  “Yes, that’s the way it usually works.” She smiled, almost like she pitied me for my lack of sanity.

  “So, maybe you can tell me a little about that?”

  “Well, the dead come to me and give me messages.”
/>   “Uh, what?” I said, shifting in my seat.

  “Yes, it’s most unpleasant, but I have been able to see them since I was a little girl.”

  You mean since your first hit of LSD.

  “But this one is different,” she continued. “Amanda was my friend. I don’t often get people I know. When she appears to me, she keeps slashing her neck. I hope that’s not how she died.”

  My stomach tightened. Jennifer and her team were the only ones who knew about Amanda’s neck. “How did you know Amanda?”

  She leaned back in her chair, touched her fingertips like a church steeple, and squinted her eyes at me like a mom trying to decide if a son could handle the wisdom she was about to impart. “Well, we were a part of a group together, a group she joined a few months ago.”

  “What kind of group?” I said, leaning forward, hoping her words might give me some clue about Amanda’s murderer.

  “A paranormal investigation group.”

  I tried hard not to stare at her with my mouth open.

  “Talk to Father Neal,” she said.

  I tried to ignore the increase of my heart rate and control my facial expressions. I didn’t want Zoe to know anything I’d heard or seen. “Father Neal. Can you tell me who he is?”

  She smiled and played with one of her earrings. “He is the priest at St. Patrick’s Anglican Church in Clintonville.”

  “Can you give me the address?”

  She wrote it down on a piece of paper and stood up. “Thank you for your time.”

  “Wait! You’re leaving?” I stammered as I got up.

  She smiled and touched my arm. “I delivered my message, and now I’m going to let you have the rest of the day to yourself. But, Aidan, Amanda is very insistent. I’m not sure why, but you must see Father Neal very soon.”

  I raised my eyebrows. I couldn’t believe she was just leaving. I expected her to try and convince me, by some obscure logic, of her gift. “Um, thank you, Zoe.”

  She tilted her head. “Do you believe me?”

  “Well, I don’t know what to believe. I mean, the Bible forbids talking to ghosts.”

  “It does no such thing, Pastor Schaeffer.”

  Motioning for her to wait, I grabbed my Bible from my desktop, flipped to Deuteronomy 18, and began to read aloud. “When you enter the land the LORD your God is giving you, do not learn to imitate the detestable ways of the nations there. Let no one be found among you who sacrifices his son or daughter in the fire, who practices divination or sorcery, interprets omens, engages in witchcraft, or casts spells, or who is a medium or one who seeks to master the dead. Anyone who does these things is detestable to the LORD, and because of these detestable practices the LORD your God will drive out those nations before you. You must be blameless before the LORD your God…”

  I paused. “So, you see, the Bible forbids contacting the dead or talking to them.”

  “Forgive me, but you just added to the Word of God.”

  Her words stunned me. Even though I didn’t believe any longer, it was still one of the worst things a Protestant Evangelical minister could hear.

  “I’m not doing that. It’s the plain meaning…”

  “The Bible says you should not make efforts to contact the dead or control information from them. It forbids being a Bone Master.”

  “A what?”

  “Bone Masters are people, magicians if you will, who summon the dead for control, information, comfort, or knowledge of the future for their own, evil intent. But if the dead come to you, it is permitted, even if it’s not the norm.”

  I couldn’t believe this conversation or being corrected by this bizarre woman about the Bible. The thing was she’d been right. The passage didn’t say anything about the dead coming to us. I picked up one of my pens and started chewing on it.

  “So, you’re not a master of bones?” I gave a half smile.

  Zoe stared at me, lip trembling, and then slammed her hand down on my bookshelf. “Please do not ever associate me with such people. Ever. What they do is an abomination before Yahweh.”

  “Zoe, I’m sorry. I mean, you might be right about that Bible passage, but it is just hard for me to believe Amanda came to you.”

  She nodded and held out her hand. “I’m not surprised. Father Neal said you wouldn’t believe me.”

  She turned to leave, and I grabbed her arm. “I’m sorry, you know Father Neal?”

  “Yes, he is my priest. I attend St. Patrick’s. Amanda started coming to the church and having some talks with Father Neal. He also helps out with my group when I need a house blessed. Did Amanda introduce you to him?”

  “No, I only just heard his name, um, from you.”

  Zoe startled me as she reached up and touched my cheek. “Of course you’ve heard of him. This is all linked, don’t you understand that?”

  I pulled her hand off my cheek. “It’s just a coincidence, that’s all. One of those things that happen when we assign meaning to what are really just random events.”

  She cocked her head and looked at me with pity as she gave my cheeks a squeeze. “So young to be so cynical. Call Father Neal. Talk to him.”

  Before I could answer, she walked out the door. I sat down, rubbing my cheek. I had thought I was rid of it — the idea of God, the spirit world, all of it. Now, I had to deal with the footprints, weird people visiting me, and Father Neal’s name. I’d trained as a scientist not to ignore evidence, evidence that had sprung up so often. My education as a Presbyterian strengthened that resolve. I’d had “nothing but the Word of God” beaten into me. Strangely, the way it had been taught to me helped contribute to my crisis of faith. But even now, I still wondered if part of me just wanted to see a supernatural world. After all, if you looked long enough, you would see something because your mind imposes order on it.

  That had to be it. The idea of God, the supernatural, and Amanda still existing in some form had such a hold over me that I kept looking for meaning in random events. I took the Bible in my hands and threw it against the wall, chipping the paint.

  Mike walked by that moment and stuck his head into my office. “Hey, why are you here?” he asked. “Are you okay?”

  “Um, yeah, sorry. One of my books fell.”

  “Good. Listen, Aidan, I know this is last minute, but I need you to do something for me.”

  “Sure, whatever you need,” I said, still chewing on my pen.

  “I need you to cover for me at the Wednesday night church dinner tonight. I have some personal errands I need to attend to.”

  Yeah, like sticking your pastoral staff in places where it doesn’t belong.

  “Sure, whatever.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “No, haven’t you read the newspaper?”

  “Not in the past two days, been busy with the fallout from the elders meeting.”

  I let out a deep exhale. “Amanda is dead. She was murdered.”

  Mike’s jaw dropped open. His eyes went wide as he gripped the doorposts. “I don’t … I … I’m so sorry, Aidan!”

  “I know. It’s pretty unreal. I was the first suspect.”

  “Are you still?”

  “No, it happened while I was at the hospital with Olan and Edna.”

  “How are you handling it?”

  I ran my fingers through my hair. “Fine, I guess. I’m just in shock. I don’t really feel anything yet.”

  He nodded. “Tough year for you, my friend.”

  I ignored the faces of my parents and Amanda etched in my mind.

  Mike lowered his voice. “Do you need to talk with Dr. Winter again?”

  I shook my head. “No. I’m okay. It’s been six months since I’ve even talked to Amanda.”

  “I know, but combined with your crisis of faith…” he trailed off.

  “No. But I appreciate your concern.” Even though Mike was a cheating jackass, he always went out of his way to help me. I owed him a lot.

  He stared at me as if trying to process whether or
not he should leave me alone.

  “Seriously, Mike, it’s fine.” I changed the subject. “What are you going to do about the other night?”

  “You mean with the elders?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Don’t worry about it.”

  “But if they have the votes, which by my count they do, it will go to the congregation.”

  “Maybe, but that is as far as it goes. It will be my excuse to get those guys out of eldership.” He gave me a tight-lipped smile.

  “How will you do that?”

  “With the same sort of tactics they are using against me.”

  “Yeah, but come on. You are above all that, right?”

  “I will do what I need to do.”

  I wanted to hit him right there. This guy had been my example of what a ministry-minded man and husband was like for the past three years. All this time, his soul had been rotten to the core. Yet he always treated me like a younger brother. I couldn’t reconcile the two conflicting personalities.

  Mike looked at me with a smile of pity. “This is a hard lesson for you to learn, but it is the way Presbyterian government works.”

  I winced. “If that’s the case, I don’t want any part of it!”

  “Aidan, don’t say that to anyone but me. Otherwise, you will be in the same trouble. The assistant pastor is supposed to fly low, learn, and then move on to a head position in a few years. You are well on your way, so don’t mess it up now by getting involved in this.”

  “But I’m already involved!” I replied with a harsh whisper.

  “No, you aren’t. Stay that way. Look out for yourself.”

  He walked to his office and closed his door. I wondered if he was going to call his mistress for a stress-relief screw. Jackass. I shut my door and sat down. My phone buzzed, and Jennifer’s number flashed on the screen.

  “Hey, Aidan.” Her voice sounded tired and confused.

  “Hi, Jennifer, what’s wrong?”

  “Well, things keep getting more complicated.”

  “The disk?”

  “Yes. It’s full of pictures.”

  I swallowed hard as my mind filled with all kinds of horrible possibilities: Amanda in leather, Amanda doing something bad, or something bad being done to her.