by R. Gualtieri
“My wife, Sarah, and I.”
“I can do a wide shot,” Francis offered. “Nothing zoomed in. Just enough to tantalize people. Our audience would probably like it. We’re from...”
“I know who you are,” the man replied. “Dr. ... Jenner and his crew, was it?” Derek raised an eyebrow, but the man quickly added, “I saw the governor’s press conference. We have a satellite dish on the roof.”
“Ah. Then you know we’re here to do some research for our show.”
“Yes,” the man replied. “Although I can’t lie and say I actually watch it.”
“No offense taken.”
“However, if I can be of any service in helping you fine gentlemen educate yourselves, I am happy to.”
“Excellent. Then...”
“But I am afraid the no photography rule is non-negotiable.”
Derek paused for a moment, then turned to Francis and nodded. The big man powered down the camera and lowered it to his side.
“Thank you kindly,” the man replied, then held out a hand. “My name is Ezekiel Lesterfield. I’m the proprietor of this establishment dedicated to the history of our fine town.”
“A pleasure, Mr. Lesterfield.” Derek shook his hand, noting the man’s grip was slick and clammy. He quickly dismissed that, though, as another detail caught his attention. Lesterfield? For some reason that sounded familiar. “This is my cameraman, Frank LaCroix.”
“Is that French?” Ezekiel asked.
“Canadian,” the big man replied. “Got Canuck blood in my veins, especially during hockey season.”
If Ezekiel found Francis’s joke to be funny, he didn’t show it. “Will the rest of your colleagues be joining us? I seem to recall there being four. A man and a young woman.”
There was something about his tone Derek didn’t like, but he pushed it aside. It was most likely a combination of his over-protectiveness of Danni, combined with their host’s somewhat ungainly appearance. He mentally chided himself for it. It wasn’t fair of him to be judgmental. “Not today. They’re busy with other aspects of the investigation.”
“I see.”
“But they’ll be with us for our night hunt,” Francis added.
“Night hunt?”
“Yeah, it’s for the show. We go out and conduct a full field investigation once it gets dark. Set up trap cameras, sound lures, that sort of thing.”
“And you’ll be doing this investigation in the woods around Shilough?”
“We usually don’t divulge that in advance,” Derek said, throwing a look Francis’s way. “It can be dangerous for anyone who doesn’t know what they’re doing and could also compromise any evidence we find.”
“Of course. I merely asked out of curiosity. Be forewarned, though. The woods can be a treacherous place at night.”
“Like we don’t already know...” Francis began.
“As we’re well aware,” Derek interrupted his teammate. No point in being overly snippy with the locals. “But we’re still scouting potential locations. After this, we’re going to drive down to Leeds Point and consider...”
Now it was Ezekiel’s turn to interrupt. “A waste of time, I can assure you. A tourist trap, nothing more.”
“Oh?” Derek asked, inwardly amused at the irony.
“The story of Mother Leeds is the most popular telling of the legend, but it is little more than an old wives’ tale. Sadly, it is a myth that allows the greedy merchants at Leeds Point to profit while we sit here in relative obscurity.”
“We typically don’t take legends like that at face value, anyway.”
“That is not to say the so-called devil was not real, but as with so many things, the true story has been perverted over the years. One might go so far as to claim it was stolen by them.”
“Do tell,” Derek replied, letting the proprietor lead them into the museum.
♦ ♦ ♦
“As you can see, the legend of the Jersey Devil originated much closer to Shilough than Leeds Point.”
To say that Derek was less than impressed by the old newsprint within the museum’s few glass cases was an understatement. Yellow journalism at its best, proclaiming the fantastical, no doubt while ignoring the real issues of the day.
“So then how did Leeds Point get all the credit?” Francis asked, looking at an old flyer offering a reward for the devil’s capture.
“Simple. Shilough has always been a relatively close-knit community. We keep to ourselves and do not seek to profit off our legends.”
“Says the guy running the museum.”
Ezekiel grinned, showing crooked yellow teeth. “This museum’s purpose is merely to preserve the truth, as well as provide a modest income for my family. You’ll note the lack of a gift shop, which we would certainly have if we were willing to compromise our ethics.”
Derek chuckled. “He’s got a point, Frank.”
“Besides,” Ezekiel said, “after my ancestor exorcised the beast, there was little need for us to seek publicity. Let the folks over in Leeds keep their silly legends.”
Derek finally remembered what Danni had told them on the way down. That’s why this guy’s name sounded so familiar. “So the exorcism actually happened?”
That seemed to perk Ezekiel’s interest. “You’ve heard of it?”
“We would be remiss in our jobs if we didn’t conduct proper research.”
“I’m impressed. Most who come this way purporting to be so-called devil hunters are nothing of the sort. All they know about the Barrens is what anyone who performs five minutes of cursory research would, and most of that are lies. The Leeds legend, the Kallikak family, the Philadelphia hoax.”
“They used an actual painted kangaroo for that one, didn’t they?” Derek asked.
“Yes,” Ezekiel replied, the humor draining from his face. “Made quite the killing before anyone thought to take a closer look. We don’t have much use for those types around here.” He led them to a series of framed photos on the wall. “Here he is. My great-great grandfather, Jedediah.”
Derek stared at the first picture. It depicted a mature, stern-looking man standing in the center. A world-weary woman was by his side. Surrounding them was a large group of boys and young men. However, it wasn’t so much the image itself that stood out, but the appearance of all those in it.
“So, is this his ... flock?”
“No,” Ezekiel said. “That’s his family. The woman next to him is his wife, Sarah. All the rest are their children. My ancestor was blessed with a large family – eighteen sons and a daughter.”
“That’s a lot of boys.”
“As it has always been with my family. At least nine out of ten of the children born to my bloodline are male, perhaps more.”
Derek looked closer and spied the lone girl. She was a tiny, frightened-looking thing surrounded on either side by a pair of hulking brothers who had their arms around her. He supposed it was meant to be a protective, brotherly gesture, but in the image captured, it appeared more like jealous hoarding on their part.
Again, that could have been due to the unpleasant appearance of those captured in the image. Damned ugly family. I can see where our host gets it from.
He glanced toward Francis and could see the big man was probably thinking the same thing.
Derek immediately felt guilty about it. He wasn’t normally one to judge by looks alone. Still, there was something off about the photo, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on.
“Seventeen,” Francis said, drawing Derek’s thoughts back to the present.
Ezekiel turned to him. “Excuse me?”
“There’s only seventeen kids, sons anyway, in the photo.”
Ezekiel smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “So there is. I am told that one of his children, Abram, was quite sickly. He was often bed-ridden, under the care of his sister, Sarah. No doubt this photo was taken during such a time.”
“
Sarah?” Derek asked, remembering what the man had said about his wife. “Seems to be a lot of that going around lately.”
He’d meant it as a joke, but Ezekiel’s gaze held little humor in it. “It’s a fine name for a woman. A good, God-fearing name. There are far too many strumpets in this world. Whores of Babylon, all of them. Doesn’t seem anyone remembers a woman’s rightful place anymore.”
Derek was suddenly glad he’d left Danni behind. Not only was Ezekiel’s comment sure to infuriate her, but he was getting a strange vibe from the man. Not to mention, something about Jedediah’s picture was still nagging at him.
“So, about that exorcism,” Francis said after a beat.
The intensity left Ezekiel’s eyes as if he suddenly remembered he was their guide. “Ah, yes. I’m happy to tell you all about it.”
CHAPTER 13
Ezekiel’s tale of the exorcism matched fairly closely with what Danni’s research had revealed, but there were additional details that had apparently been left out of the official account.
According to his story, the creature known as the Jersey Devil had rampaged the area in the years leading up to the exorcism, but the number of those affected appeared higher than that officially reported.
Whether it was true or the man was simply exaggerating to make the story seem more dramatic, though, Derek didn’t ask.
The creature had struck some of the other towns bordering the forest, enough so that outside police help began to arrive in Shilough, something the small, close-knit community apparently did not appreciate. To Derek it sounded like something out of a cliché drifter story, in which a luckless hitchhiker wandered into a town that didn’t care much for strangers.
Aside from that, it appeared the two stories matched fairly closely. The exorcism itself was more of a day-long party of religious fervor by the townsfolk. When it was over, the sightings and disappearances died down.
Definitely a case of power of suggestion if ever he’d heard one, albeit it was a temporary balm, as devil sightings began to rise again in the decades that followed.
As for the missing persons, there was no way of knowing what had actually happened to them. But the preacher’s warning to stay away from the more dangerous sections of the Pine Barrens almost certainly contributed to a decline in such mysterious disappearances.
In short, there wasn’t anything to convince him the devil was any more real than when they’d first arrived. Still, Derek couldn’t shake a strange feeling in the back of his mind as he and Francis excused themselves from the museum and turned to leave. They walked out the door, thanking Ezekiel for his time and letting it close behind them.
“What do you think, Frank?”
“I would’ve handed over that twenty just to get away from that guy.”
“Not going to argue with you there.”
“You can’t tell me,” the bigger man joked, “that he doesn’t have a van parked around back with a sign on it reading ‘Free Candy.’”
“Be nice. I can’t imagine business is brisk even on the best of...”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Huh?” Derek turned to find his cameraman pointing.
“Looks like we have company.”
Derek glanced toward the direction of their SUV. He’d been expecting to find that their security detail had finally caught up to them. Instead, he saw a somewhat familiar-looking woman leaning against the side of their vehicle, apparently waiting for their return. “Is that...?”
“The reporter who gave you shit earlier. Looks like it.”
“Well, isn’t that just grand?”
Francis laughed. “Maybe the governor should hire her as our babysitter instead. She did a hell of a better job tracking us down than Zeist’s guys.”
♦ ♦ ♦
There was no way to avoid the confrontation, so the two men simply walked toward their vehicle. This wouldn’t be the first time, Derek noted, that they’d had to give someone the runaround. Albeit people in the press could be a lot harder to shake loose once they set their minds to something.
As they approached, the woman stood away from their SUV and smiled in their direction. “Dr. Jenner, Mr. LaCroix.”
Derek returned the smile. At least she’d gotten his title right this time. “Ms...”
“Wilhelm. Julia, please.” She held out a hand which both men shook in turn.
“A pleasure to see you again,” Derek replied neutrally. “Although I have to admit, I am a bit surprised.”
“Let me guess. You thought I just popped by your press conference to harass you so I could return home and write a story about conspiracies and cover-ups?”
Francis snorted laughter. “If I was a betting man, that’s where my money would be.”
Derek glanced sidelong at him before turning toward Julia again. “I’m forced to agree. No offense, but usually the only people who bother stalking us are overeager fans. I mean, if this is all for an autograph...”
“I can stop you right there, Dr. Jenner.”
“Derek.”
“Thank you, Derek. But up until a few months ago, I’d never even heard of your show. I mostly stick to network television.”
“Mind-numbing sitcoms and teen angst, quite the combo,” Francis said.
Derek folded his arms in front of him. “And yet you had some wild claims back there at the press conference. Pretty damning for someone who has no idea who we are.”
“Had,” she corrected. “I did my research, brought myself up to speed ... particularly about the rumors surrounding your show. Then, when I heard you were coming here at Governor Yarlberg’s request, I had to wonder whether it was just a coincidence.”
“Rumors?” Derek asked, despite being well aware they existed. Even with all the threats and signed affidavits in the world, some people just couldn’t keep their mouths shut. Fortunately for them, chatter like this was mostly confined to half-baked websites run by conspiracy nuts.
“Yes. Taken by themselves, they’re easily dismissed. But when you begin to look at the bigger picture, it fits together like the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.”
“I hear they sell those at Target,” Francis replied. “Although theirs tend to come with a lot less crazy.”
“Be that as it may,” Derek said, ignoring his teammate’s barb, “such ridiculous hearsay doesn’t strike me as something that would make for a front page story, even on a slow news day. Except for maybe the tabloids. And I wouldn’t expect one of their reporters to bother stalking us.”
“I’m not stalking you.”
“Oh, so you just happened to turn up here in the middle of nowhere, same as us?”
“It’s called research. That, and this truck ... not the most inconspicuous thing on the road.”
“She has a point there, Derek.”
“Next time,” she said with a smile, “consider renting something a bit more low key, or just call Uber.”
Derek let out a sigh and turned to Francis. “Mind stowing the equipment? We need to get back on the road.”
“You got it, boss.” He walked to the other side of the SUV where he opened the rear passenger door to put his camera away.
“Got something in there you don’t want me to see?” Julia asked.
Derek smirked at her. “Just a couple of bigfoot corpses. At least, according to your sources.”
The assuredness dropped off Julia’s face after a moment. Derek assumed her next move would be to walk off angrily, shouting back at them that they couldn’t hide forever from the free press or some other such bullshit.
Instead, she took a deep breath and said, “My apologies. This isn’t going how I envisioned it.”
“I’m not really sure what you envisioned. Some tearful confession that we’re part of a global conspiracy, perhaps?”
“No. That’s not what I meant. When I first heard about you guys, what some people say you do, I thought it was crazy, too. But the more I dug, the more
it started to make sense. Then, when I heard you were coming here, after what’s happened, I thought it had to be related. But the truth is, it was probably more wishful thinking on my part than anything.”
Derek found himself intrigued. Though his better judgment told him they should get in the car and drive off without any further comment, he found himself asking, “So why the sudden interest in us? What happened to turn me and my crew from non-entities to this?” He waved his hand to indicate the area. “Off the record, of course.”
She appeared to consider this for a moment before looking around, as if making sure nobody else was within earshot. “Fine. I guess if the rumors aren’t true, then the worst I’ll be doing is making a fool of myself.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“You’ve heard of the disappearances?”
Derek wasn’t about to take the bait so easily. “It might have been mentioned in talks with our producer. Makes for good drama.”
“Not for all of us. My sister Sophie and her husband John, they disappeared a couple of months back. No trace of them. John worked for the AEP. That’s the Agency of...”
“I know who they are,” Derek replied, indicating she go on.
“They were supposed to be heading down to Atlantic City for the weekend, but John had to make a stop in those damned woods first.”
“And you know this how?”
“My sister. She and I talked the day before. It was all she could complain about, how his boss was taking advantage of him. Well, they never arrived. I called the hotel. They never checked in.”
Derek raised an eyebrow, but was careful not to say anything. This had to be the same John that Donald Krychech had told them about, the one whose body had been found and whose wife was still missing. He couldn’t tip his hand, though, as much as he wanted to. Julia was the missing woman’s sister, but she was also a reporter. There was no way he could confide in her and feel confident she wouldn’t try to blow things wide open. All the signed affidavits in the world wouldn’t mean shit if she was on a mission.
He considered this for the briefest of moments. Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing in this case. The cover-up by Yarlberg left a bad taste in his mouth. Seeing the governor dragged out in front of the press to explain not only the environmental issues, but also why he’d taken the law into his own hands, would be immensely satisfying. But there would be ramifications for his team. Though he sometimes hated the secrecy that their dealings with the government required, there was one major aspect that kept him focused: they helped people, saved lives. He wasn’t about to jeopardize that for something as petty as shoving Yarlberg’s crap back in his own face.
