CHAPTER tEN
Day Three
Walking into his office the next morning, Sheriff Daniels poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down at his desk. He looked at the front page of the newspaper, browsing the headlines as he sipped from his mug. It must have been a slow day for news since the front page boasted nothing but politics.
“Morning, boss,” Shirley Wilson said as she walked up to his desk, a notepad in her hand. Shirley had worked as the secretary in the sheriff’s office for the last four years and never failed to greet him with her notepad containing the calls she had received before he arrived. Typically, they were small issues like loud music the night before, neighbors accidentally knocking down someone’s fence or a dog crapping on somebody else’s lawn. He looked up and waited for this morning’s delightful incidents.
“What have you got for me, Shirley?”
She cleared her throat before going over her list. “Well, Verna Thurmon called and said Bill never came home last night. He’d been at the cemetery to bury Abigail Jones and she hasn’t seen or heard from him since. Joanne Reed called about Fred Parson’s dog shitting on her lawn again.”
“Bill never went home?” He asked.
“Nope, not according to Verna.”
“What about the rest of his crew? Did they go home?”
“I didn’t get any calls from their wives,” She answered. “But maybe their wives didn’t care whether or not they came home. After a few years, marriage can be a funny thing.”
“I doubt it, but they might have gone out get a drink afterward and nobody would think anything of it if they were on a two-day drinking binge. But old Bill doesn’t drink, he’s always home at an early hour.”
“And up bright and early in the morning,” she added.
“Did you call the diner to see if he had been there for coffee or breakfast? He sometimes goes there.”
“Yeah, Rita hadn’t seen him at all. She was the one who opened so she knows who’s been in there since the doors were unlocked.”
He drummed his fingers on the desk a moment. “That’s really odd.”
“Yes, it is. What about Joanne Reed?”
He waved her off with his hand. “Reed can wait. She’s a pain in the ass.”
“Yes, she is.”
“Has Jim been in yet?” he asked.
“Yeah, he went to talk to Joanne.”
He stared at her. “Then why the hell are you bothering to ask me about her?”
Shirley cocked an eyebrow at him. “Do you really think he’s up to handling her.”
He shook his head. “I’m not even sure I’m up to handling that woman.”
“Besides, he’s likely to knock on the door and hear her having sex with whoever she can get to stop at the house.”
“At this hour of the morning?” he asked in disbelief.
“I’m not one to gossip,” she said. “But that woman’s a nympho. She’ll spread her legs, no matter what time of day or night it is.”
“Shirley!” he said in a raised voice.
“I’m just telling it like it is, Sheriff.” She said, raising her hands defensively.
“I haven’t had enough coffee for this, yet.”
“If she hasn’t had a visitor yet, she’s likely to seduce poor Jimmy.”
“You’re killing me,” he muttered.
“She may kill him,” she responded. “I’ve heard her sex drive is worse than a college girl’s.”
“Enough!” he said, intending to end this particular piece of the conversion. “Jimmy’s not that crazy.”
“Fair enough,” she said in defeat.
He grabbed his hat and headed for the door. “Have him swing by the cemetery first. Joanne can wait. Tell him I’m heading there now.”
“See that?” she said. “You agree with me. That’s why you’re not having him go there alone.”
“Just tell him what I said.”
“What if she finally shoots Fred and his dog while you two are at the cemetery?” Shirley said sarcastically.
“I doubt it. I have known her for years and she’s not the violent type. She may be mouthy and a royal pain in the ass, but she’s all talk.”
“And a nympho,” she added. “Don’t forget nympho.”
“Goodbye, Shirley,” he said, trying not to get drawn into that conversation again.
“Maybe you’ll get to finish your coffee and read the paper later.” She called after him, already sitting down to raise Jim on the radio.
“Maybe, but I doubt it,” He called back just before closing the door.
* * * *
Joel gazed down at the cemetery, trying to forget about the scream he’d heard the night before. He was surprised to see the truck still parked on the small winding trail between the gravestones. He was certain it was the same truck he had seen the evening before when he was outside waiting for Julie. I hadn’t been dark out yet when he’d gone outside, and the truck was fairly unique for the vehicles today, blue with white pinstriping. That was the truck he now saw.
There was no movement anywhere around the vehicle that he could detect. Had the crew just gone home and left the truck there? And why would they still be filling in graves by hand? It seemed like this town still had some old-fashioned systems in place.
“What are you doing out here?” Julie asked, coming up behind him.
“Just wanted to get some air,” he answered.
“And looking at the site of Doctor Johnson’s crash?”
“No,” he said. “I’m looking at the cemetery. The truck is still there.”
“What truck?”
He pointed at the blue pickup. “That’s the same truck that was there last night. Why would they leave their truck in the cemetery overnight?”
“Maybe it wouldn’t start.”
“Maybe,” he said. “But why would a police car be pulling up to the gate?”
A police car parked in front of the gate and sat there. No one got out at first. They just sat there, as if waiting.
“Probably to check on the truck.”
“Why aren’t they getting out of the car?”
“Stop obsessing,” she said. “You’re not going to find some wild adventure here.”
“I have a bad feeling.”
“Bring your bad feeling back inside. We have to meet with Doctor Blake soon to find out what our next jobs are going to be since PEF is on hold until Doctor Johnson comes out with a new formulation.
“I’ll be right in,” he said, noticing the second police car pulling up.
“Don’t be long,” she said, leaving him to watch for a few more minutes.
* * * *
Rob and Jim arrived at the cemetery at nearly the same time, exiting the cars and heading for the gate. The cemetery was large for such a small town, but it was over a century old and still very much in use. The gate was made of iron and showed its age but the town didn’t want to replace it because it held such a history.
As the two men approached the gate they nodded at one another in greeting, then walked through onto the path that went up the center of the cemetery, lined on both sides with row after row of stones. Rob was thankful the rain had ceased, allowing them to conduct their business without getting soaked. The ground, however, was still wet.
“You think the other guys finally talked Bill into going out and getting drunk with them?” Jim asked.
“I doubt it,” Rob answered. “Let’s see if his truck is gone, or if there is anything out of the ordinary.”
“Abigail was to be buried on the other side of that hill,” Jim said, pointing to the crest of the rising ground in front of them. “I suppose his truck would be parked near there if he never drove it out of here.”
“Yup, want a cigarette?”
“Sure, might as well have a smoke while we walk,” Jim answered, fishing one out of Rob’s pack, lighting it up and inhaling deeply. “He drove a blue pickup truck right?”
“Yeah, with white pinstripes,” Rob co
nfirmed, lighting his own cigarette.
Jim pointed over a series of stones to the truck as they neared the top of the hill. “Like that blue pickup truck with white pinstripes?”
“Son of a bitch,” Rob muttered, glancing to where Jim indicated. “That’s his truck.”
Jim walked ahead of Rob, moving toward the truck and passing the gravestones, now littered with piles of soil. “You think the crew put all these dirt heaps everywhere?”
“Not sure, but they better clean it all up,” Rob answered.
“When they sober up,” Jim added.
Rob didn’t care if they were sober or not. Bill’s crew were always careful to show respect and clean up when they were finished. If this was their doing, sober or drunk, they would be out here cleaning up after themselves.
When they got to the truck rob stopped when he found blood on the ground. Bill was nowhere to be seen. They looked around, seeing if they could find any other signs of foul play besides the gruesome stains in the grass. Bill’s brown jacket lay across a stone but revealed no signs of a struggle.
“Where the hell is he?” Jim asked.
“I don’t know, but I don’t like the look of this. Bloodstains here and there. No sign of Bill. His abandoned pickup truck. Let’s look around the cemetery a little more. Maybe he’s in the woods taking a leak.”
“You notice something about these piles?” Jim asked.
“Other than the fact that they shouldn’t be here, you mean?”
“I mean like the fact that there is a hole in the middle of each one like someone has been digging up the bodies,” Jim answered.
“I hadn’t noticed, but now that you mention it…” Rob’s sentence tapered off as he glanced up the hill at the NeurAx building through the trees. “You don’t think they would be digging up bodies and using them for experiments in that place, do you?”
“I doubt that!” Jim said laughing. “I think you’re getting paranoid about them, Rob.”
“You may be right, but I think I want to talk to them and see if they have noticed anything suspicious in the cemetery at night. The private road winds around the upper part of the cemetery. They have a near perfect view from there.”
“Well, it looks like there are cars up there. Someone’s there so let’s go now. Old man Thurmon is nowhere to be found and it couldn’t hurt to take a ride up.”
Rob went back to his car, grabbed his flashlight and returned to where Jim was standing. He clicked the light on and directed the beam into one of the holes, moving it around until he saw the area of the coffin lid that was damaged. It was broken, appearing to have been smashed inward. He moved the beam back and forth inside the hole in the lid.
“Shit,” he said.
“What is it?” Jim asked.
“The body’s gone,” he answered. “Looks like the caskets were broken. Let’s check the others before we head up to NeurAx. We’ll leave your car here. You can ride with me.”
Jim nodded. Once they’d performed a quick check of each of the several graves in question, only to find the same results, they headed for Rob’s car.
* * * *
Rob rolled his window down as he pulled up to the security guard at the gate. The guard walked up next to the car and bent down, looking in at the two officers.
“Can I help you, gentlemen?” He inquired.
“Sheriff Daniels and Deputy Tucker,” Rob said, introducing them. “I’d like to talk to somebody and ask them if they have seen anything odd going on in that cemetery over there.”
“Nothing that I’ve heard about but I’ll alert them and I’ll let them know you’re here. Be right back.”
The guard headed to the booth next to the gate and picked up the phone. He was only a few minutes before he returned and bent down again to look in the window. “Doctor Blake and Doctor Williams will meet you at the front door. Just drive on up to the main building.”
“Thank you,” Rob answered, moving the car through the gate once the young man opened it.
When they arrived, to men in white dress shirts and black slacks met them in front of the building, directing them to the visitor parking area. Once they had exited the car, the four men introduced themselves as they walked toward the front of the facility.
“What can we do for you sheriff?” Doctor Williams asked.
“Well, we were just over in the cemetery and noticed that some of the graves had been dug up. We were wondering if anyone here had heard anything or seen anything strange going on over there. It seems to be the newer plots that were affected, from our initial observation.”
“Nothing that I have heard about, but we are not here at night,” Doctor Blake answered. “There are only a few technicians and some security guards here after hours. I am sure they would call you if they had seen or heard anything out of the ordinary.”
“Thank you, Doctor. Do you mind if I ask what sort of work you do here?”
“We do neurological research,” Doctor Williams explained. “We’re working on various procedures, but we are trying to find a way to repair damaged nerves that no longer work.”
“Sounds pretty intense,” Jim said.
“It is, but the rewards would be astonishing,” Williams said. “Even without accidents or injuries, age is a factor in neurological conditions and functions. For instance, did you know that when you are born your brain contains the most neurons you have in your entire lifetime?”
“I never knew that,” Rob admitted.
“Well, the pathways are connected at least. What happens is that as you grow, the pathways that are not used disconnect, to put it in simplified terms. And neurons do not regenerate, which is why it is easier to learn when you are younger and harder to learn as you get older.”
“You can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Jim said.
“Exactly,” Williams said. “There is more truth to that than you know. If we can succeed in causing these damaged or dying neurons to fire, we could take care of Alzheimer’s, stroke victims, cerebral palsy, useless limbs, reverse the damages caused by illegal drugs and countless other benefits to the medical field. I’m completely devoted to it at this stage in my life. I only hope I can see the results of it in my lifetime.”
“I hope you succeed,” Rob said. “I have had friends who have suffered some of those things. And of course, I have seen the results of the illegal drug issue first hand in my line of work.”
“I’m sure you have, sheriff,” Williams responded. “I can only imagine the things you have witnessed.”
“I’m sure my work is pretty boring compared to yours.”
“Nonsense, sheriff,” Blake said. “We just deal with different sorts of animals. We deal with rats, mice, monkeys and such while you deal with people who can be far wilder than the ones we see every day.”
“Amen to that,” Jim said.
“Well, I don’t want to keep you gentlemen any longer, but I noticed you have a good view of the cemetery from here. Would you mind asking your security guards to keep an eye open for anything going on over there?”
“Not at all, Sheriff. I’ll mark it on their shift logs, so they will be reminded. Was there much damage? Were the bodies removed?”
Rob thought it best not to give out too many details prematurely, gauging his answer accordingly. “I’m not sure what all happened. We’re going to be investigating it when we get back there. I just thought I would stop here to ask if you had noticed anything.”
“We’ll be glad to cooperate in any way we can. Good luck with the investigation.”
Rob nodded and ushered Jim out the door.
* * * *
As Rob and Jim got into the car and drove back down the hill, Blake watched them until they disappeared from sight. He couldn’t keep from thinking about the cemetery. Who would dig up the graves? What plagued his mind the most was the fact that the sheriff had said it appeared to be the newer plots. Something about it just didn’t feel right.
“I want to go look at those grav
es before they go back there,” Blake said as he headed for the woods in the direction of the cemetery.
“What for?” Williams called after him.
“Just to see what he’s talking about,” Blake called back.
“Wait for me, I’m coming too,” Williams said.
Williams ran to catch up to him. Blake hoped they wouldn’t be looking into the holes to see a bunch of rotting bodies. That would surely ruin his appetite before lunch-time. Still, he just needed to see for himself to put his mind at ease.
CHAPTER eLEVEN
The door opened as Reverend Brighton walked into the sheriff’s office, greeting each person as he passed their desks until he finally stopped in front of Rob’s desk. Rob leaned back in his chair as the man approached.
“You wanted to see me, Sheriff?” He said. “Jen gave me the message when I got to the church.”
“Jen?” Rob asked in confusion.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Jennifer Hillsworth is my new secretary. The church board hired her after dear Abigail passed away.”
“Oh, yes, I guess she did say her name was Jennifer. Sorry, I guess I’m just preoccupied today. I called to talk to you because Jim and I noticed something peculiar at the cemetery today, and I was wondering if you had seen anything yesterday out of the ordinary at the service.”
“No, I didn’t see anything yesterday, but I was concentrating on the funeral. What was it that caught your eye?”
“A bunch of the graves had been dug up, or at least had holes dug over them.”
“No, I would’ve noticed that. I am sure they were all fine when I was there.”
Rob motioned toward the chair in front of his desk. “Please have a seat, Reverend. Would you like some coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
Rob signaled Shirley and she brought the reverend a cup of coffee, setting some sugar packets and creamers on the desk in front of him.
“Have you ever seen anything like that happen before?” Rob continued.
“Well, grave robbing is not anything new, but I have never personally witnessed it. Have you called law enforcement from any of the other towns to see if they have had any graves vandalized or robbed?”
Threshold Series (Book 1): Threshold Page 6
