by Joshua Grove
Though he was still furious about how he was treated, he did owe Sheriff Kelly a small amount of gratitude. If it hadn’t been for him mentioning the priesthood, he probably wouldn’t have started so early in life. As lonely as the priesthood could be, Father Matthew had no regrets. He knew it was the right thing to do, and God would not let him down.
“What’s so interesting out that window, Father?” Martha asked as she continued typing.
“Not a thing,” he lied. The events that had led him into the priesthood were unfolding once more, just as he knew they would. And this time he was prepared. He had always excelled academically, so when he entered seminary he attached himself to influential faculty. He spent two years at the Pontifical North American College in Rome, studying the occult, exorcism, as well as abnormal and parapsychology. Though he could never explain it, Matthew had a gut feeling his training would one day provide answers about the death of his father.
“Father? Father?” a voice said, increasing in volume.
“Yes?” he answered, turning away from the window and his dark thoughts.
“We’re ready for you,” Dean Lofton informed. The chair of the finance committee, as well as a cop, Dean was Matthew’s right hand man.
“I’ll be just a minute,” Father Matthew said with a forced smile. He stepped into his office, grabbed the necessary paperwork, and made his way down the hall to one of the Sunday School classrooms beside the Social Room. He heard laughter from the women’s group, and the deep voices of several men in the finance meeting. He laughed to himself about how segregated men and women were in the Catholic Church. Shaking his head, he put on his jovial face and pushed the past out of his head as best he could.
“Father?” Dean repeated a third time.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Matthew asked.
“I was asking about our investment funds and whether we need to transfer money into the general fund to cover any excess costs involved with the new heating system.”
Matthew stared at him blankly. Everyone looked at each other in awkward silence. They weren’t used to Matthew being anything other than outgoing and brilliant.
“Father, are you okay?” Stan Stellworth asked timidly.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” he said. He tried to feign illness, hoping they would buy it. “I’m feeling a bit under the weather tonight. I believe it must have been those tacos I ordered for dinner!” He roared with his usual laughter, and the men in the room visibly lost their collective look of concern.
“We can take care of this, Father,” Dean said.
“I trust you. If you need to move some money, you have my blessing. I think it’s time for me to retire for the evening.”
“Good night, Father,” a chorus of voices sang.
“Good night,” he repeated. “I’ll be back to my normal self by the morning.” He laughed again for good measure, then left the room. He prayed that no one would call him into the Social Room. After briskly walking down the hall, he was happy to see Martha walking out the front door. He slipped into the church office and then through the door that led to the residence. Without slowing down, he walked through the living room and into the small kitchen. He fed his dogs then grabbed the cordless phone and dialed quickly as he walked through the dining room and into his study.
“Pronto?” the voice on the other line said in Italian.
“Buona sera, Monsignore Bonatelli! Come sta?” Father Matthew said cheerfully.
“Ah, Padre Matthew McMillan! I recognize your terrible accent anywhere!” Monsignor Bonatelli shouted with glee in a thick Italian accent.
“But of course,” Matthew laughed.
“What is troubling you, my friend?”
“What makes you think I’m troubled?” Matthew asked.
“The late hour, Matthew. Or did your advanced mind forget that we are several hours ahead?”
Matthew slapped his forehead in regret. “Oh, Monsignor. My apologies.”
“It is no matter,” he said.
“I need your prayers, Monsignor.”
“Go on,” he urged.
“I believe that darkness is descending upon our small town again.” For a moment, neither man spoke.
“Phone again when you are certain. Go with God, Matthew, you have the order’s prayers.”
“Grazie,” Matthew said as he laid the phone on his desk. He started a fire in the oversized fireplace, grabbed a book on demonology, and sat down in his favorite reading chair.
* * * * * *
3
Anna pulled into her driveway, expecting Tommy and Trisha to be waiting on the porch.
“I told them to be ready to go,” Anna said to Trevor. “Go get them.”
“I ain’t getting out of this car, dude,” he laughed. “And if I do, I’m taking your gun.” Anna rolled her eyes and honked the horn. Tommy stuck his head out the door and nodded. A moment later they filed out the door, backpacks in tow, and climbed into the back of the cruiser.
“What’s the deal, Mom?” Trisha asked, slightly annoyed. “I had plans to Skype with Levi tonight.”
“I think you’ll manage to skip one night,” Anna said. “Besides, isn’t he going to the football game to see his brother play?”
“Nice,” was all Trisha said. She was so much like Anna when she was thirteen that she knew the old adage was true. You have one just like you.
“Mom, what’s going on?” Tommy asked, concern in his voice. Of her three children, he was the most expressive and supportive. Ever since her husband left, Tommy had tried to be the man of the house. She felt the wave of guilt roll over her for letting him play that role. That’s a lot of responsibility to put on any kid, especially a sensitive one.
“Old man Alan Brickton is dead,” Trevor said flatly. “And there’s some sort of f’ed up beast running through the woods.”
“Language!” Anna shouted so loudly everyone winced.
“I didn’t even say the whole word!” Trevor shot back.
“A beast!?!” cried Trisha.
Trevor grinned. “Yeah, and it almost killed me, too. It started running beside the truck…” but he was cut off by Anna grabbing his arm.
“Enough, young man,” she snapped. “I know you’ve been through an ordeal, but I won’t tolerate you trying to scare your sister.”
“I’m not scared,” Trisha insisted. But her voice was trembling.
“How did Mr. Brickton die?” Tommy asked softly.
“We’re not sure,” Anna answered, giving a harsh look to Trevor. “But I would just feel better if you were with me at the station tonight.”
“Well if he wasn’t murdered, then why would you make us stay with you?” Trevor asked rudely. Anna slammed on her brakes and pulled the car to the side of the road.
“Listen up everyone,” she said in her authoritative voice. “He was most likely murdered. It wasn’t like people adored him. Teenagers played pranks on him all the time. Hell, sometimes he even shot at people who accidentally trespassed on his property. Regardless, someone is out there and I don’t know who it is or what he wants.”
“What it wants,” Trevor corrected.
Anna groaned.
“Mom, you didn’t see what I saw. There’s no way that thing was human.”
“You watch too many movies and read too many books, Trevor,” Tommy complained. “Vampires and werewolves aren’t real, dude. Get a grip.”
“Go fu…”
“I said that’s enough!” Anna cried. “A strong man can run alongside a slow-moving car, Trevor. Just because he can run fast doesn’t make him some monster from the movies. Honestly. You’re not helping anyone here with your wild tales.”
“Fine, don’t believe me,” he griped. “You’ll see.”
“Well, I hope we don’t see jack crap,” Trisha said. “Do you think I would be safer in a jail cell?”
“Trisha,” Anna began, but she started to laugh. Then laughter filled the car, temporarily relieving the stress.
“Laughter is the best medicine after all,” Tommy said.
“You’re such a dork,” Trevor joked.
“And you’re an ass,” Tommy pushed back.
Anna slammed her hands against the steering wheel. “If I have to say ‘Language’ one more time, so help me God I will put the three of you in separate cells and leave you there until you graduate from high school!”
“Well, you can’t do that while we’re sitting on the side of the road,” Trevor said.
“And we can’t very well graduate from high school if I’m not even out of middle school,” Trisha added.
Anna put her forehead against the wheel.
“Come on Mom,” Tommy said soothingly. “Let’s just get to the station.” Without another word, Anna pulled onto the road and they rode in silence.
As they pulled into the reserved space for the sheriff, the three kids jumped out of the car. Anna watched as her three children trotted into the main entrance. She smiled to herself. They were intelligent, good looking, and generally well behaved. Thankful for her family, Anna walked through the doors and nodded to Janet.
“Hi, Sheriff,” Janet said nervously.
“Janet, did you get the number from the anonymous caller?”
“I did, ma’am.” She handed Anna a post-it note with the number. “The trace says it’s from the payphone by the Laundromat”
“Please, Janet, call me Anna. I’m not old enough to be a ma’am. At least not yet.” She tried to smile at Janet, but was simply too irritated to pull it off. She looked at the note and realized the payphone was less than a mile from the Brickton property.
“I’m sorry, Anna,” Janet said uncomfortably.
“About what?”
“The caller’s voice was disguised by one of those voice distorters. Listen to this.” Janet pushed a few buttons so she could play back the conversation with the anonymous caller.
Janet: Crimson Falls Police Department, this is Janet speaking. How may I help you?
Caller: Alan Brickton is dead.
Janet: I’m sorry?
Caller: He’s dead.
Janet: Who is this?
Silence.
Janet: Who is this?
Heavy, raspy breathing.
Janet: Hello?
Caller: Time’s a wasting.
Click.
“Damn,” Anna mumbled.
“I wish I could have done more,” Janet said apologetically.
“There’s nothing you could have done, Janet,” Anna assured her. She decided to call Michael on his radio.
“Unit 14, this is Sheriff Blackwood, come in.” After a brief pause, he answered.
“This is Deputy Michael Mullins. What’s the 411?”
Anna laughed quietly to herself. Aside from always using his full name, his formality over the radio always caused other deputies to tease him. “Michael, I need you to go to the payphone about three quarters of a mile up the road from the house.”
“You mean the one in front of the Laundromat?”
“That’s the one.”
“Sure thing boss. What am I doing?”
“Dust the phone for prints.”
“For prints?”
“That’s what I said,” Anna said. “That’s where the call about the victim came from. We need to see who’s been using that phone.”
“I didn’t even think it worked anymore, Sheriff.”
“Well, apparently it works. So get it done.” She handed the radio back to Janet and walked toward her office where the kids were sitting at the conference table across from her large, ebony desk.
“Sheriff?” Janet said. Anna turned around to face her. “What’s happening? You brought your kids here. Should I have Daryl bring the kids here, too?” Anna realized that she was abusing her authority by allowing her kids a safe haven and not considering other families.
“I think that’s a good idea. Have them hang out in the overflow section of lockup.”
“Thanks,” Janet said as she put her hand over her heart. “But I think I’m just going to have them go into the city and stay with my mom.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Anna said. “And Janet?”
“Yes, Anna?”
“Keep this quiet until I figure out what to do next.”
“Sure thing.”
Anna walked to her office and stood in the doorframe, watching her children.
“What’s up?” Tommy asked as he looked up from his book.
“I need to go into the other part of my office,” she said as she looked toward the door with the triple deadbolt.
“Are we finally going to get to see what’s in there?” Trevor asked, excited by the prospect.
“No, you’re not,” Anna said. “But I’m leaving the door open. I trust you to stay put and not go anywhere, or so help me God I will be angrier than you have ever seen me.” She stared at them to drive home her point, then began unlocking the door leading to the video surveillance
* * * * * *
4
When Sam regained consciousness, his head throbbed and his ankles were on fire.
“What the hell?” he mumbled as he tried to figure out what had happened.
“Sam!” his wife exclaimed. “Thank God you’re okay.”
“Lisa,” he said in a raspy voice. “What happened?”
“You were in an accident. It wasn’t bad, but when they brought you in they said you were in shock. You were a mess.”
“Really?” Sam couldn’t clearly piece together the events. “How long have I been here?”
“Only about an hour. They weren’t sure why you were in shock, or how you managed to keep your eyes open. It was like you were catatonic.”
“Shit,” he said with a sigh. He closed his eyes as a few memories and images came back to him as if projected onto the back of his eyelids. “Trevor,” he said.
“Trevor is fine, he’s with his mom,” Lisa reassured him.
“Something was running beside the patroller,” he said as he tried to sit up. It was difficult. What had happened? What the hell had been in the woods that was moving so fast?
“And why do my ankles feel like someone crushed them?” he winced as he tried to move them.
“You have huge bruises all around your ankles,” Lisa said. She pulled the covers down his body to reveal his feet. “Luckily nothing is broken. Not even a sprain.”
“Goddamn,” he said after whistling. “How did that happen?”
“You don’t remember?”
“The last thing I remember was watching that shadow,” he said.
“You drove off the driveway and into a tree,” Lisa said as she looked at her own feet.
“That’s rich,” he said with a gruff. “So, are you going to tell me about what happened or do I need to call Sheriff Blackwood?”
Lisa paused before telling him the story. As she relayed Trevor’s rendition of the events, he began shaking his head. “The boy has a wild imagination.”
“Well, that may be so, Sam, but Jake and a few others verified it.”
“Verified what?”
“That something was dragging you away from the car and into the woods. Trevor said your eyes were wide open. Then, when Anna and the others came running toward you, whoever it was dropped your legs and ran into the woods.”
Sam whistled again, this time with a bit more emphasis. “Holy shit.”
“Holy shit,” Lisa repeated.
“Is everyone else okay?” he asked.
“Everyone meaning who?”
“I don’t know,” he barked, frustrated. “Is everyone okay?”
“Well, I haven’t heard anything if that’s what you mean. As far as I know, Alan is the only person dead.”
Sam was quiet for a moment. “That’s not as reassuring as I hoped it would be.”
“Yeah, tell me about it,” Lisa smiled.
“I’m sorry if I s
cared you,” he said as he took her hand.
“Darling, after dealing with you being in the FBI for fifteen years, I’m used to it.” They smiled at each other and she leaned in and gently kissed him.
“It’s gonna take a lot more than some Olympic sprinter to take me out.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of,” she warned. He tried to reassure her, but there wasn’t much he could do or say to make her feel better about their current predicament. He wanted badly to be in on the action.
“Where’s my phone?” he asked.
“In my purse. Why?”
“Give it to me.”
“Who are you going…?”
“Just give it to me, please,” he interrupted. She fumbled through her purse.
“Here.”
He quickly dialed Anna’s direct line in her office. It forwarded to Janet.
“Sam?” she said.
“Yeah, hi Janet.”
“Thank God you’re okay.”
“Is the sheriff around?”
“Yes, but she’s preoccupied at the moment. Is it urgent?”
Sam had to think about whether it was urgent. He couldn’t remember anything, but thought it might be important to hear Trevor’s take on things and make sure everyone knew that there was indeed someone in the woods.
“Tell her that Trevor and I saw a shadow running pretty fast alongside us in the trees by the driveway. And make sure to tell the kid that I’m okay. Probably shook him up a bit.”
“I’ll do that right now,” Janet assured him. “Anything else?”
“Yes, do whatever you need to do to get me the hell out of this damned hospital. I need to be at the station helping to coordinate.”
“Copy that. See you soon, Sam.”
He laid his phone on the table.
“How do you figure Janet can get you out of the hospital sooner, Sam?” Lisa asked, chuckling. “You’re not in the FBI anymore, dear.”
Sam laughed. “True enough. Get the doctor. We’re getting out of here.”
“Okay.” She knew better than to argue with him. He would be back at the station and hard at work within the hour. Lisa looked at the clock: 6:12pm. It was going to be a long night.
CHAPTER THREE
Discoveries
