“But there was more than just the brutality of Colson’s death,” she prompted.
“Yeah… There was…” he mused quietly. “Colson wasn’t…” he began, then stopped and tossed his head back, breathing deeply. He closed his eyes, and a fugitive tear rolled from the corner to trace across his cheek. After a trio of labored breaths, he rolled his head back down and spoke again. “Sorry… I live this… Especially this time of year… I can’t get away from it…but… I haven’t actually talked about it with anyone in a long time.”
“I understand,” Constance told him.
“Well…” he huffed, obviously forcing himself to continue. “I’m sure Edgar already told you. Colson’s body wasn’t the only one they found. Merrie’s was there in the basement too.”
“So Merrie Callahan was deceased,” she stated more than asked.
“Yeah. According to the autopsy she succumbed to her injuries and to exposure. They found her body behind the furnace, which was inoperable at that time, of course, since the house was abandoned. It looked like she was probably trying to hide from that bastard. After everything he’d done to her, he had kept her locked in that basement with no heat and just what was left of her school uniform. We found her coat upstairs. She didn’t have a chance.”
“But you had already found her standing in the middle of the street several blocks away,” Constance said. “And John Colson had been killed and dismembered. Were they certain it was her body?”
“No doubt about it,” he replied. “They made Tom and Elizabeth identify the body.”
“Who did?”
“Your people,” he spat. “The Feds.”
“Dear God…” she mumbled.
“Yeah, well you know my thoughts on that… Either way, they also pulled some fingerprints from Merrie’s things at home and they matched. They even checked dental records just to be sure.”
“What about the girl you found?”
“That’s just it; they matched her too.” He swallowed hard and shook his head. “If that wasn’t enough to make everyone question their sanity, there was also the fact that the autopsy estimated Merrie’s death at as much as a day prior to my finding her. But Colson…well, what was left of him anyway…he was still warm when they arrived on the scene.”
“What happened after that?” she pressed.
“Good question,” he replied. “The Feds took over at that point. They marched in with court orders, and we were pretty much cut out of the loop. So was the MHP. Everyone was interviewed and told that we were mistaken about what had transpired. Merrie’s remains mysteriously disappeared, as did Colson’s. And as I’m sure you noticed, our files were redacted…sanitized, really. The autopsy reports disappeared. The case reports definitely aren’t the ones we filed originally. I know that for a fact because I wrote one of them myself.”
Constance would have discounted the claim out of hand had it not been for the gaping holes in the case file she had been given by the SAC at the outset. That fact in itself made his story that much more believable, even if it did sound like a plot from a blockbuster conspiracy thriller.
“I’m sorry,” she said. She really couldn’t imagine what else to say.
“Yeah, me too…” Skip grunted. “Wasn’t long after that I left Hulis. Kathy and I got married, then headed for KC to follow my dream of being a big city cop.”
“I have a confession,” Constance said. “I ran a background check on you, so I already know about your career and the predators you took down.”
He nodded. “Would’ve been disappointed in you if you hadn’t. I figured you for a good cop, even if you are a Fed.”
She took a sip of her drink instead of replying. She wasn’t offended by the latter comment. She was actually used to taking grief from other branches of law enforcement. Ben even referred to bureau agents as the Feebs. He always said it was short for Feeble Bumbling Incompetents. Then he would be quick to add, “Present company excluded, of course.”
She waited a moment, then spoke up to bring the story full-circle. “And then you came back to Hulis…”
“Yeah, and that’s when I found out the rest of it.”
Constance perked an eyebrow as the verbal bomb landed squarely between them. She was under the impression that she knew where the story went from there, surreal and unbelievable as it was. She canted her head, looking at Carmichael with fiery curiosity clear in her eyes.
“The rest of it?” she asked.
“Yeah… Shortly after it all happened, Tom and Elizabeth sort of dropped out of life. Folks didn’t see them much around town. Tom went to work, came home, and that was about it except when they needed groceries and the like. Then you’d see one or the other out for a bit, but only as long as necessary. Even stopped going to the church over in Mais and started home schooling Rebecca. Other than that they kept completely to themselves.
“It wasn’t that folks didn’t try, mind you. People would call, and even drop by, but they usually wouldn’t answer the phone or the door. When they did, they’d just send whoever it was away as fast as they could.
“Whenever someone would run into one of them around town they would ask about Merrie, of course.” He shrugged. “They would just say she was doing fine and then excuse themselves. It was peculiar, but everyone pretty much chalked it up to them just losing trust in the world. Not all that hard to imagine, after…well…you know.”
“Anyway, didn’t hear much detail about their lives until they had that scare when they thought Merrie was going to die.” He paused, then let out a harrumph. “I guess that sounds kinda odd after everything I’ve just told you.”
“I remember mentioning that,” Constance offered.
“Yeah…well… The truth came out after they were killed in that car crash.”
“What do you mean truth?”
“Seems Elizabeth had been keeping journals. Almost daily as a matter of fact.”
“About what?”
“Merrie,” he explained. “Or Rebecca. Depends on the day.”
“I still don’t follow.”
Carmichael blew out a loud sigh through his nose, then absently brushed his mustache. After a weighty pause he continued. “Right around the time Merrie’s remains mysteriously disappeared, so did the little girl I picked up from the middle of the street.”
Constance stared back at him. Finally she said, “Are you saying what I think you are?”
He nodded. “Some days Rebecca was Rebecca. Other days, she was Merrie. The wounds would even show up on her body. Then later, of course, they were scars. But like stigmata, they were there.
“Doctors tried to treat it like some sort of multiple personality illness, but that didn’t work, obviously. Apparently they almost killed her in the process, which would have meant Tom and Elizabeth would have lost both their daughters.
“But she survived,” he breathed. “And she tried to make a life for herself. Even made it through college. Not without a few bumps, of course, but she did it.”
“So you’re saying Rebecca Callahan is the woman living in Holly-Oak now?”
“I guess it depends on how you look at it, Constance,” he sighed. “Not long after Tom and Elizabeth died, she started getting worse. She was Merrie more often than Rebecca. Folks here in town looked after her, but it wasn’t easy. By the time I moved back and ran for sheriff, she had become Merrie full time. She hasn’t been Rebecca since.”
CHAPTER 31
10:56 A.M. – December 26, 2010
Sheriff’s Department
Hulis Township – Northern Missouri
“Decided what to put in your report yet, Special Agent Mandalay?” Sheriff Carmichael asked.
“No, sir,” Constance replied. “I haven’t.”
He cleared his throat, then nodded, looking down at the ground. “Yeah…that’s pretty much what I figured. I was kinda hoping you’d say something different though.”
“I know what I saw, and I know what you’ve told me. However, I’
m not sure any of it would stay in the file if that’s what I submitted,” she offered. “I get the feeling it would disappear like previous accounts.”
“True…” he said with a nod. “Of course, you know the whole story. The rest of them don’t. Well, except for Agent Graham.”
“I know,” she replied, then bit her lip. “I’m going to try to change that, but I can’t make any guarantees.”
“Yeah, I know. Not sure what good it would do anyway. I doubt it would change anything.” He paused, visibly weighing his next comment before saying it aloud. Finally, he offered, “You know it’s not just the face, don’t you? If you run it, that ten-print card for the victim is gonna match John Horace Colson’s fingerprints.”
She nodded, “I assumed as much.”
“But you and I both know that can’t be who was in that basement.”
“Under any other circumstances I’d agree, Skip,” Constance replied. “But after all this… Well…I’m not so sure.”
“So…maybe you get it now.”
“I’ll admit, I think I now have an intimately better understanding of why the bureau file on this case is incomplete.”
He snorted. “Yeah. I’m sure you do…”
“I didn’t say it was right,” she added. “I just understand the ‘why’.”
“Yeah… I guess I do too.” Changing the subject, he nodded toward her feet. “So… I see you’re wearin’ those stilts again.”
Constance looked down at her shoes and let out a shallow laugh. “Merrie liked them the other day, and I stopped by to see her this morning, so…”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Martha?”
“Yep.”
“I assumed she would call you.” Constance shrugged. “I guess the dressing up is a carryover from my own childhood-visiting family for the holidays and such. Mom always wanted us to look our best.”
“Sounds familiar.”
“Although, I’ll be honest,” she added. “I was a bit worried about the visit. I wasn’t sure if Martha would even let me in the door, much less in to see Merrie. I was a little surprised that I didn’t meet with any resistance when I arrived. In fact, she was actually very pleasant to me.”
“She was expecting you,” he replied.
“That’s what she said. Did you have anything to do with that?”
“Maybe…” He allowed the word to dangle in the air for a moment.
Constance could sense that there was more to the story. She waited, but when nothing else was forthcoming, it became apparent that he was fishing, so she decided to chum the waters a bit more. “You know, I almost called you first before going over there. I was really expecting somewhat of a repeat of the first meeting, even though this time all I wanted to do was see how she was doing. I had honestly figured Merrie wouldn’t even remember me, since everything seems to reset for her.”
Based on his response, she had apparently used the correct bait.
“She did though, didn’t she,” Skip offered the words as a statement, not as a question.
She answered anyway. “Yes. Oddly enough, she did. I was surprised, to say the least.”
“She always does,” he explained. There was something palpable in his tone that made him sound somewhat relieved by her response. “Don’t know why. Everything else is always wiped clean, but she remembers the visits from you Feds. For a while, anyway.”
“A mystery within a mystery within a…” she let her voice trail off.
He nodded.
After a lengthy pause, he cleared his throat and said, “Since we’re being honest, that’s another one of the reasons you didn’t get a very warm reception when you first arrived in town.”
“Oh? After our talk last night, I just assumed it was the way the bureau handled things thirty-five years ago that made me a pariah.”
“Well, that didn’t help, but a lot of the folks who remember that are long gone. You know how protective we are of her,” he explained with a sigh. “Every year it’s been the same. One of you Feds shows up and insists on interviewing her. Then, come Christmas night, after everything is over, and Merrie is Merrie again, she starts talking about Mister Drew, or Mister Keene, or whoever was sent that year. For some unknown reason she expects them to be coming back to visit with her again… She gets up early on December twenty-sixth every year, then just sits there waiting for the entire day.”
“That would explain why she wasn’t surprised to see me this morning,” Constance mused.
“Pretty much. But, you’re the first to actually show up. Until now, every year she’s ended up heartbroken because they don’t come back.”
“She takes it that hard?”
Again he answered with a quiet nod. Then he said, “Not sure why about that either… Takes her awhile to get over it too, and that doesn’t sit well with folks around here, as you’ve discovered.”
“That’s a fact,” she agreed.
“Eventually, that memory fades and she forgets it too. But something tells me she’ll remember you…” Skip gave a thoughtful snort and then shook his head. “You know, I wasn’t a hundred percent sure you’d show up over there today. But like I said last night, I had you pegged as different, so I called Martha and told her to keep an eye out. I admit, I was hoping I’d read you right about that too… Glad to see I did.”
“You could have said something about it last night. Were you testing me?”
“No,” he shrugged. “I think maybe I was testing myself.”
“So do you think you passed?”
“You showed up, so I think maybe I did. I guess we’ll find out,” he replied, then absently brushed at his mustache. “How about you? Did visiting with Merrie answer any lingering questions?”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I don’t really know that I expected it to. Like I said, I just wanted to see for myself that she was okay. We ended up visiting for a while. I even got a fresh manicure.” She held out her hands to display her nails.
“Sounds like Merrie…” Skip replied.
Constance gazed thoughtfully at her nails and then looked back up to the sheriff’s face. “But, even without answers, it made me feel good just to see her. Does that sound odd, Skip?”
Carmichael shook his head. “Nope. Not odd at all. I know you’re a part of her life now, and from what you just said I think maybe she’s become a part of yours too. I realize it sounds sappy, but you’ve been touched by the spirit, Constance.”
“The spirit of Christmas?”
He shrugged. “Of Christmas… Of Merrie… It’s all the same to us around here.”
“You know, I think maybe I understand exactly what you mean.”
He regarded her carefully and then smiled. “Yeah, I think maybe you do. You’re good people, Constance.”
“Thanks. You are too, Skip.”
“Ya’know, I’ve never said this to any of you Feds before, but then, none of the others ever gave me a chance…” He paused and once again combed his fingers through the brush on his lip for a second. “Do me a favor, Constance: don’t let ‘em send anyone else to Hulis on this case.”
She sighed. “I’m not sure I can stop them.”
“Maybe you can. I guess it all depends on what you put in that report of yours.”
“Something tells me it won’t make any difference.”
“You’re probably right,” he agreed. “But sending an endless parade of Feds up here isn’t going to bring Merrie any peace. That’s what she really needs. Once that happens, maybe she can move on… Hell, maybe Rebecca and Hulis can too.”
“Maybe so…” Constance smiled, then gave him a nod. “I’ll promise you this much, Skip: I’ll come back. You can count on it. If the bureau wants to send someone anyway, I’ll make sure it’s me.”
“You know I’ll hold you to that.”
“Yes, I do. Don’t worry. I think I have some pull that the other agents don’t.”
“Do tell…”
“I would if I c
ould.”
“Well, I tell myself this every year,” he grunted. “Guess I’ll tell you too… Let’s hope next Christmas you’re just here to visit and have a cup of egg nog.”
“I’d like that.”
“I’m sure Merrie would too.”
CHAPTER 32
12:24 P.M. – December 26, 2010
College Gas ‘n Go
BR 61 South – Canton, Missouri
Constance tore a fresh paper towel from the dispenser and dried her hands. This was the second gas station she had visited in the past ten minutes. At the first stop, she had walked into the unisex facilities and then immediately turned and walked back out. If she was going to die prematurely, she had already decided that it wasn’t going to be courtesy of a toilet seat that hadn’t been cleaned since before she was born.
Her heels clicked sharply on the tile as she stepped over to the door, then used the damp paper towel to grasp the handle and pull it open. Hooking her foot in front of the door she wadded up the towel and tossed it into the trashcan, actually landing it dead center in the receptacle-unlike some of the other women who had visited recently. Using her elbow she shoved the door the rest of the way open and exited. It’s not that she was germaphobic by any stretch, but she was sure that even this restroom needed a date with some bleach and elbow grease.
She strolled slowly past the drink coolers, inspecting the selections, and then paused. She still had a little over three hours left before she would roll into Saint Louis. Although she’d slept well last night, she still didn’t feel like she was caught up, so she was definitely going to need caffeine to get her through the upcoming stretch of highway. After a brief moment of indecision, she settled on a bottle of green tea that was boasting “all natural” on the label. She didn’t fully buy into the advertising by any stretch, but she figured her body would appreciate green tea more than a soda, or even coffee.
After paying for the drink, she headed back out to the first row of pumps. Since she had left her coat on the passenger seat of her car, she hurried-heels again tapping out a sharp cadence, this time against the grimy, salt-frosted pavement. She had already topped off her tank and paid with her card before seeking out the restroom, so she quickly unlocked the door and climbed into the driver’s seat, then settled the bottle of tea into the console cup holder. As she reached over her shoulder for the safety belt, she heard a warbling chime issue from her side.
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