by catt dahman
“No, I don’t think that. I am saying we can’t assume anything right now; it would make about as much sense as if one of the kids himself did this. Maybe Erby, that was his name, killed that kid and talked the others into leaving, or all of them did it together. No, I don’t think that’s the answer, but I sure as hell don’t know what to really think.”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s why we’re going to walk this scene and talk to everyone,” Harding told Stu. To his irritation, Virgil began humming one of those complex songs of his, occasionally wiggling his fingers.
He asked Virgil once why he did that when he was thinking, and the deputy said he was recalling piano lessons that he hated but which helped him think logically.
Harding thought law enforcement was about talking to people and looking for clues; his deputy thought it was about logical patterns. These young people had some strange ideas.
The sheriff told the men who had just arrived that they would be with him, going over the scene and talking to the handful of people who thought they had something to add, the counselors, and the kids. He didn’t think the rest had the finesse. Tina was prone to blurting things out, Virgil was shy and unsure of himself, Tobias was a Nervous Nelly, and Kurt was young. Together, they were good backup, but Harding wanted to handle this himself.
Harding faced the crowd. A few reporters were already yelling questions, but he waved them away, saying he was too busy but if they behaved, he would give them a full update later. “I want all the under- twelve campers in the dining hall and not moving unless an adult takes two or three to the head and right back. No arguments.
This is point zero, and each of my people will take a direction: north, south, east, and west. I want you to stand and stretch out as if you’re gonna play Red Rover. Make long lines, long enough that you’ll cross each other like I want.”
Virgil stepped up, “Then, we’ll drop hands. Make sure some of the leaders are in each group and spaced out. You’ll be close but not too close, and I want the deputies to call off steps: one, two, three, four-just like that so the lines are intact.”
“We’ll help,” said some just-about-twenty-year-olds with fresh faces, tans, and clean clothing as they came to Virgil’s group.
“You will scour the ground, and if there is a tree in your way or a building, those in line for them will scour those places. Leave no rock unturned, and look into tiny hiding places and holes and under leaves, branches, or bushes. We are searching for two healthy, twelve year-old scouts, conditions unknown.”
A girl interrupted, “Look, a tossed ice cream wrapper isn’t important, but what exactly is? What should we look for?”
Virgil gave her a nod, “Good question. Look in thorny bushes or look for soil that is freshly turned especially near water, a dozen feet from a trail, or a few feet from a very large tree and downhill,” he said. He was nervous about giving instructions, but it had to be done.
“How do you know that?”
Sheriff Harding sighed sarcastically, “Because he like statistics and old cases and thinks cases have patterns, but do what he says.” He scanned the area again, looking in one direction and squinting as he ran information in his head.
Virgil blushed furiously.
“Meh, carry on,” Harding said while laughing.
“Look for hair or cloth caught on thorns, tools, blood drops, broken limbs, or anything unusual sitting on top of the ground or even partially buried. Those boys didn’t put their shoes on, so look for bare footprints in sand, mud, and soil. Look for vegetation that has had maybe four people walk over it. Just look for those boys, and be careful, and above all, do not touch anything you find or go near it. Yell for us,” Virgil finished.
Harding teased his top deputy, but he listened clandestinely to the man as he gave instructions. Almost sadly, Harding thought that if Virgil worked for a bigger department and had an experienced lawman mentor him, he might make a fine officer. Harding felt a wave of guilt that he didn’t train his officers more.
“The large tree is a marker, so if they kill someone there or bury him there, they can easily find the spot again, right? You have a big tree then walk ten feet, and there is a medium oak. You won’t ever forget the spot,” the girl said as she watched the ground.
“I’ve found it to be true a lot. Gravesites really are not hard to find because at first you have the loose soil and insects and dead vegetation around it, and the shape gives it away. Even after fifty years, did you know there is kind of a halo that forms around the gravesite? The dirt cracks and looks smoother and sunken, and vegetation doesn’t grow back the same because of the way the dirt was thrown back in. It’s hard to explain, but when you’ve seen a few, you know exactly when you’re looking at another grave,” Virgil stopped. “I’m sorry. I guess I am boring you to death and being quite grim.
She introduced herself as Vivian and shook her head as she said, “I want to be a deputy actually. That’s what I’m studying to do. I like the psychology of all of the investigation the most. This is a good experience for me, but I sure wish I wasn’t getting it here. Those poor boys.”
“Just because one was murdered doesn’t mean the other two have been harmed.”
“Give me a safe outcome here,” Vivian said hopefully.
“Oh, they saw the culprits, sneaked after them, followed them like sleuths, and got lost in the woods.”
Vivian sniffed and asked, “Without shoes?”
“Sure. Other than Tina, I haven’t heard of many girls interested in police work, Vivian. Don’t you want to be a wife and mother and lead a normal life?” Virgil teased her, blushing again.
“Sure, but a wife and mother can also help people and have a career. I’ve always been interested. My dad is a cop,” she said as she laughed, “and my mom is the dispatcher where we live.”
“Then, it’s in your blood,” Virgil said as he bent down to examine some freshly turned soil, which was beside the spore of a raccoon, and then he reluctantly stood again.
“The sheriff would be in there going over the room with us inch by inch if he didn’t have some hopes for the boys. The doctors and he can do their jobs, but I saw his eyes, and he’d rather be out here with us. He’s hopeful.”
Vivian chewed her lip, “Then, why aren’t you? Don’t deny it. Your voice dropped, and your words got slower as if you were trying too hard to convince you and me. And you said it: if he really felt that way, he’d be out here with us. He’d want to find them safe.”
Virgil felt heat rush to his face. He was almost angry with her and was certainly furious with himself, the sheriff, and the situation. “Now if you go repeating one tiny word of this to anyone else and especially reporters, I will arrest you myself.”
“I said my parents raised me on this stuff. I’m not heartless, officer. I know right now that it’s best to keep information on a need-to-know-basis so that there isn’t a panic and so evidence isn’t ruined by well wishers or those trying to help. Deputy, I assure you, I won’t breathe a word.”
Virgil noted that twice she had addressed him in that response and both times in official ways. She was not very happy with his warning, probably insulted.
He wasn’t great around women. He was just too shy.
“Virgil….” Tina ran over to him. He was about to ask her why she had broken her own search-line, but the wide eyes and pale face were enough to tell him. She quickly and quietly explained the new findings to Virgil and asked him what to do, fluttering her hands and looking ready to give up. Virgil wondered what caused this since she was a well-trained deputy, calm without fault, and not prone to losing her cool.
In her search-line, one of the men found something and called to her. She took one look, closer than where the man had been, and felt nausea rise. She had the rest of the searchers back off, and she’d cordoned off the area at once before running to get help.
Along the way, she told Kurt to get the other searchers close to the ramshackle building they
had found and then radiate their search from there, but not to go inside under any circumstances until they had cleared the building. Maybe the murderers were still inside!
“I don’t know what to do first,” Tina moaned, “oh, Virgil, it’s so bad. It’s worse than bad.”
“Do you get many murders here?” Vivian asked.
Virgil chuffed, “Never. This is new to us, but the sheriff knows the drill. He worked in a big city once. We get drunks, assaults, hell raising, but not murder.”
“Never,” Tina said.
“We don’t have enough people in our department,” Virgil grimaced.
“And that’s why you need to use help from another department,” Vivian nodded. To Tina and Virgil’s shock, she whistled, and in seconds, people she was camping with appeared, having run quickly to her.
“I just found you four more to help you. I am fully intelligent and capable of following your orders, and my brothers Nick and Joey know the drill. Nick is a full time deputy back home. Show him your badge, Nick, and Joey goes to school part time and works at the station part time. Show him your badge. This is Janice, Nick’s wife; she’s a nurse. Put us to work,” she said as she held out her credentials as well.
“You let me ramble on, and you are in law?”
Vivian frowned. “Part time is all. I take classes in college. I’m on vacation and being a civilian, but if you need help, then we can be whatever you need.”
Virgil glanced at Tina. Tina rolled her eyes in a miserable way that showed she was desperate for the help and at their mercy.
“We do need some help; they didn’t announce anything so as not to butt in.”
Virgil made a fast choice, taking his cue from the way Tina had lost her composure. He felt silly all at once and wondered if Vivian thought he was some idiot, small-town fool. This was a rotten day all around.
Close to the building, Tobias stood with his sidearm drawn while Kurt directed everyone away from the building, asking each to search away from the area for clues. Reporters, sensing the action, came running. It was quickly becoming a flurry of activity.
Joey went to help Kurt, yelling for everyone to back up as Tina, grimacing, handed her revolver over to Nick without a word. That was out of normal procedure, but Virgil figured Tina was spent. She knew her limits, and this had taken the sap out of her for some reason; Virgil felt dread building inside his gut.
Tina was brave and did her job well, but in this case, she deferred to the men.
Virgil, Tobias, and Nick found the building to be empty of any threat, but Tobias left the building vomiting, causing more speculation among those watching.
As soon as he wiped his face and felt he could face a crowd, he and Tina set their jaws, took deep breaths, and deputized a few people. It wasn’t by the book either and was a mess, but it did the job as the newly deputized men took positions to keep everyone far away from the run-down building until the sheriff could get there.
Virgil thanked Nick, glad he wasn’t needed but also glad he had not gone in alone or with just Tobias. It wasn’t just that it could have been a deadly situation, but it was the kind of place inside that, if he had been alone, Virgil would have felt his legs go to nervous ice and cold fear.
The building was the place the kills were made, and it was a chilling, dirty, bloody place. It was a place of pain and misery.
Off the trail and positioned on rocks, were two bodies, unmoved, and guarded by two Scout leaders; Tina left to protect the area. Both leaders faced away from the bodies for damned good reason; they weren’t heartless but rather were sickened by the sight because of their big caring hearts.
“Did she check on them?” Janice shook her head. “What if they need first aid?” She stopped mid-stride and didn’t finish her complaint as she saw the young boys’ bodies.
Both seemed posed on the rocks to cause the greatest amount of fear and anguish as possible. It was no wonder Tina had gotten so sick after finding the scene, and it was clear why she hadn’t given them first aid.
Virgil felt a chill run up his spine. It wasn’t that he felt watched by the killers although he could have been, but rather, he felt as if he were in a place that was tainted by evil thoughts and actions; it was as if this place were haunted. Having Vivian and her brothers there helped a lot.
“Oh, Virgil, there’s no happy ending now,” Vivian said as a way of condolences that such happened in his department’s jurisdiction.
“What in the merry fuck is going on?” asked Sheriff Harding who was in a foul mood from having been at the tent with the medical examiner and a doctor who weren’t much help except to say the child had suffered. His own senses were either failing him, or nothing was left in the tent to help them solve the case. During the whole time and in the back of his head, he was praying that the searchers would find the other two children safe and sound.
In fact, he had given up his own deputies in the hopes of finding those boys alive.
He looked at the boys. One boy had his fingers removed, and his bloody hands were dramatically pulled out to his sides. The other boy’s neck was blue and purple with bruises.
He motioned Virgil to walk with him, and they moved carefully, watching for footprints, but none were left on the old pine needles. At first glance, nothing was there: no trash, no weapons, or footprints were around to indicate clues.
“They were killed in that shack. We cleared it, yet it’s where we’ll find the most useful information, but Sheriff, it’s a bad scene.”
Sheriff Harding led the medical examiner along the rocks to where the bodies were positioned so that the ME could check for vitals which was just procedure. He didn’t even look back as he heard the kids’ fathers screaming and running toward the scene.
“One probably was choked to death and showed a few signs of stab wounds, most post mortem, a few ante mortem. The other boy was tortured and stabbed with sticks. Likely that is the cause of death. Exsanguination from the neck wound, possible. They were not killed here.”
“Thanks, Doc,” Harding said. He turned and said, “Virgil, who is that who tackled the father of one of the victims? Do we know?” Harding was sarcastic.
Sure enough, a pile of people was on the ground with Lowery, the father of one of the boys who was fighting to get to his dead child. It was a heart-breaking sight; it looked like a brawl.
“Vivian, Joey, and Nick: both the men and the woman are full or part-time deputies back home. Nick helped me clear the shack, but I will be interviewing them fully. My gut says they are the real thing, and frankly, they helped a lot.”
“I wanna see my boy,” Lowry screamed.
“No, you don’t. That will be something you can’t erase, Sir. What you want to do for your son is to let these officers do their jobs and find the creeps who did this,” Vivian said.
“But he needs a hospital. Erby….” Lowery was winding down with exhaustion.
“Sir, you and I know that’s not logical. The deputies and I need your help with interviews and information. The sooner they catch the crazy people who did this, the better and safer we’ll be. Erby needs you to help so they can avenge his untimely death. Mr. Lowry, I am depending on you to help me.”
Harding listened to Vivian and spoke to Virgil, who walked over under the glare of the sheriff. “She’s good. If I had the gumption, I’d fire my staff and hire her. Looks as if she is the only one working. What’s her name?”
“That’s Vivian,” Virgil said, “and I’m working.” He was humming again, and his fingers played invisible piano keys.
Harding groaned, popping another anti-acid into his mouth and rubbing his chest. “You’re thinking. When has thinking ever solved a case? We need good ole footwork.”
“Tell me where to work my feet, then.”
“You’re making my heartburn worse, Virgil.”
“Sorry, Sheriff, but what do we have here?”
“We have a big mess: a tent, a building falling apart where the boys were tortured, some dead ki
ds, a pile of people with the press taking pictures of all, and my deputies, oh Lord, all of them helpless as babies.”
“Jess, we’re doing what we can and what you say to do.”
Harding rubbed his eyes, sighed, and said, “Thing is, Virgil, I don’t know what to do. I ain’t trained for this type of mess. I don’t think the interviews are gonna help one wit. I think the killers are some nuts we have no idea about, and they could be anyone at all. Now, how about that?”
“What do you mean?”
Harding grimaced, “I think we’re chasing ghosts.”
Chapter Six: Sheriff’s Department Changes
Twenty-four hours later at the sheriff’s small department in town, people came and went, moving like mindless robots. Everything they said was added as notes on a thick pad of paper, and another manila folder appeared and was marked, but for all the notes, reports, papers, and lists, the case was not moving along.
Virgil sipped a cup of lukewarm coffee, grimacing at the taste but unwilling to refill his mug as he read his own scrawls. Periodically, he hummed and did piano exercises, and then he would be quiet again and sort and read calmly.
Vivian appeared, like an angel, replacing his mug with a steaming mug of coffee that smelled great. Virgil gratefully took a gulp, scalding his tongue but was glad for the fresh brew. Vivian sat down, waiting to see if he wanted to talk.
Sheriff Harding was not at the station and wouldn’t be coming in for the next few days, if ever.
During the night, Harding suffered a heart attack and stroke; it wasn’t heartburn he had been feeling earlier. He was in the hospital, paralyzed on one side. Virgil was acting sheriff in Harding’s place, something he felt unprepared for, especially with the biggest murder case ever to hit the area. He missed Jess Harding more than anyone knew.
“I don’t suppose the reporters have given up?” asked Virgil.
“No, you have to speak to them sometime,” Vivian said. She and her brothers and Janice had helped the day before and again this morning. Her father called and vetted his deputies and daughter for Virgil, at least giving one small gift in the grand scheme. “Are you going to hum again?”
