The Summer Town

by Michael Lindley

  “Sheriff, back here, quick!” a deputy yelled from behind the chapel.

  The sheriff moved out slowly, his gun pointed at the open door. Jonathan and George followed closely behind.

  When they came around the corner, Jonathan saw his truck parked and the deputy was standing there looking into the open driver’s side door. Then he saw the blood splattered around a large hole in the back window of the truck and he ran as best he could past the sheriff, terror ripping at his brain. He pushed the deputy aside and then stopped suddenly and staggered back. George came up beside him.

  On the front seat of his truck, Harold Slayton lay there on his side. The shotgun had fallen to the floor and as Jonathan slowly moved up to look in, he saw most of the man’s head had been blown away and the bloody remains leaked out onto the seat of the truck.

  Jonathan felt the bile in his gut rise up in his throat and he staggered back trying to keep from retching. Then a new terror gripped him as he thought of his wife. He started walking slowly toward the side door of the chapel. He sensed a dull roar growing in his brain and tears starting to flow down his cheeks.

  He stumbled to the door and reached out to the doorjamb to catch himself. As his eyes quickly adjusted to the dark interior of the chapel, he first saw little Sara Slayton crouched in the far corner, clutching her doll and shaking uncontrollably. He took one step inside and heard a low moan. He ran forward and saw Emily lying on the floor between the pews, tied up and shaking, her sobs barely heard through the cloth around her mouth.

  Jonathan ran to her and she looked up and saw him and her eyes opened wide. He pulled the cloth loose from her mouth.

  “Oh Jonathan, thank God, Jonathan,” she cried out.

  He worked with trembling hands to free her hands and feet and then helped her sit up on the pew. She fell into his arms and sobbed and then she kissed him.

  “Oh Jonathan.”

  “Are you okay?” he finally managed to say weakly.

  She just nodded, and he buried his face in her hair. He felt his tears flowing and the most wonderful sense of relief coming over him. He noticed George and the sheriff walking by him and then down the aisle toward the front of the church. They both knelt down out of sight and then he heard his friend cry out.

  Jennifer Harris was sitting in the kitchen with her mother and brother, Connor. Coffee cups were spread in front of them. There was a knock at the back door and Connor got up to see who it was. Jennifer was still trembling thinking about what had happened out at the church. She saw her friend, Elaine Howard, come past Connor followed by the big sheriff. Elaine had obviously been crying and she ran to Jennifer and hugged her.

  “I’m really so sorry, Jenn,” she said sobbing.

  Jennifer looked up at the sheriff, confused and afraid of what he was going to say. Connor came up and stood next to him.

  “Folks, I’m sorry to say that Sammy Truegood was shot and killed this morning out at the chapel at Bent Trees.”

  “No!” Jennifer wailed, and her mother came around the table to hold her. In her mind, she knew Sammy was gone, but she had been holding the slightest glimmer of hope. She looked over at her brother and was disgusted to see him smiling.

  “The bastard got what he deserved,” Connor said.

  Jennifer jumped up and ran across the kitchen screaming, “You’re the stupid bastard, Connor!” She started punching at him and he grabbed her arms and she felt someone pulling her away. It was the sheriff and he helped her back and sat her down at the table.

  “It was a man named Harold Slayton,” the sheriff said. “We’ve been looking for him for the murder of his wife. He kidnapped Dr. McKendry and his little girl last night and you and Sammy happened to come across him hiding out at the chapel. Thank goodness you were able to get away, miss.”

  “And Sammy’s really dead?” she said quietly, knowing the answer.

  “Yes, I’m afraid he was gone by the time we got out there,” Potts said. “Slayton took his own life. We found him outside. He used his shotgun.”

  “Oh, my Lord!” Jennifer’s mother gasped.

  Jennifer sat there, a dull numbness overcoming her.

  “What about Emily McKendry, Sheriff,” Connor asked.

  “She’s fine. Just a little shaken-up,” he said.

  The sheriff looked back to Jennifer Harris. “There’s something more.”

  Jennifer looked up and Elaine was standing in front of her and she could see she was shaking. Her face was a mess of tears and smeared makeup.

  “Go ahead, miss,” the sheriff said.

  Elaine took a deep breath and sighed as she let the air out. “Jennifer, I’m so sorry, but last night…” She couldn’t finish.

  “What is it?” Jennifer asked.

  “Last night out at the beach, after you left.” Again, she stopped and rubbed her dripping nose with the back of her hand.

  “Elaine, just tell me,” Jennifer said, trying to choke back her own tears.

  Elaine breathed deep again to try to calm herself. “Last night out at the beach, I was with Josh, Josh Knowles.”

  Jennifer nodded. “Yes.”

  “Well, Josh was really getting drunk and we were… well I had been drinking, too and we were back in the dunes, you know kissing and stuff.” She looked around the room at everyone watching her. “Josh was really drunk. He started pulling at my clothes and I tried to get him to stop and he wouldn’t. He just got rougher with me and he tore my blouse.” She had to stop and gather herself.

  “Elaine, what happened?” Jennifer said.

  “Well, he wouldn’t stop,” she sobbed. “He wouldn’t let me up and he started ripping at my jeans. I was punching him, and he pinned me down and just started laughing at me.”

  “Oh Elaine!” Mrs. Harris said, going over to comfort the girl.

  Jennifer watched her friend lean against her mother crying. Then she looked back and said, “Josh was laughing at me and he had this wild look in his eyes and then he said he was going to have me just like he did you, Jenn!”

  Jennifer sat back in shock as the realization of what had happened came over her. She saw the frightened look on Elaine’s face and then looked over at her brother, Connor, who stood there with a stupid, stunned expression on his face.

  “Sammy told me again this morning he didn’t do anything,” Jennifer said and cried out loud again.

  “What did you do,” Connor asked Elaine, his voice shaking.

  “He kept ripping at my clothes and I finally kicked him in the groin as hard as I could with my knee and he rolled off me,” Elaine said. “I ran all the way home. I was so ashamed of what happened. My mother finally forced me to tell her this morning and then she took me down to the police.”

  Jennifer looked up at her brother. He stood there with a dazed and angry expression. She watched as he turned to look back at her for a moment and then he spun around and hurried out of the room. She heard him going up the steps and then the door to his room slamming. She got up and went over to her friend and put her arms around her. They both sobbed quietly and held onto each other for support. Jennifer’s mind couldn’t block out the memories of Sammy this morning and his final words of truth.

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Sally was in the kitchen making sandwiches to eat before Alex left for the airport when she heard a knock on the front door. She rinsed her hands in the sink and grabbed a towel as she walked down the hall. Through the sidelight window she saw a woman standing on the porch.

  When she opened the door, she was greeted by the sweet smile of a woman in her sixties, her hair nearly white and cut short all over.

  “Hello Sally,” the woman said quietly.

  “Oh Sara, I’m so glad you stopped by.”

  The older woman nodded and held out her arms to give Sally a hug. Sally stepped down onto the porch and embraced the woman. Sara Slayton Moore had been friends with her parents and with George for many years. Sally first met her when she was a young girl and Sara would come up t
o Charlevoix with her family to visit.

  Sally had heard the stories many times about Sara’s childhood and the horrible deaths of her parents and young Sammy Truegood. She knew how much her mother, Emily, had done to help her and how much she had loved her. Sara’s mother, Agnes, had a sister who lived in Saginaw and they adopted Sara after her parents were gone.

  “It’s so good to see you, Sara,” Sally said. “I’m sorry we didn’t have more time to talk down at George’s service the other day. Come in, please.” She walked with her into the kitchen. “We were just getting ready to have some lunch. You’ll have to join us.”

  “That would be nice,” Sara said, “if you’re sure it won’t be too much trouble.”

  “No, of course not.”

  Alex walked down the steps and into the kitchen. “Well hello,” he said in surprise when he saw the woman standing next to Sally.

  “Oh honey, you have to meet an old friend of our family. This is Sara Moore, she knew my parents very well,” Sally said.

  “Nice to meet you, Sara,” Alex said, holding out his hand.

  “Hello Alex,” said Sara. “Actually, Sally’s parents saved my life many years ago.”

  Sally stopped working on the sandwiches and looked at her old friend and smiled. The two women exchanged knowing glances that acknowledged the history and tragedies their families had shared.

  “Here, sit down please,” Alex said, taking her over to a chair at the kitchen table.

  “So how have you been, Sara?” Sally asked.

  “Well dear, we’ve been staying with family for a few days after the funeral.”

  “I’m glad you came by,” Sally said.

  “I really need to speak with you about something.”

  “Of course, what is it?” said Sally coming over to join her at the table. Alex sat down as well, and they watched as Sara reached down into her large purse and pulled out a newspaper. It was the Charlevoix paper and she spread it out on the table.

  “I saw in the paper they think George Hansen was murdered,” Sara said. “I hadn’t heard about it until I saw this story.”

  “Yes,” Sally said, reaching out to take her small hand. “It’s been a terrible shock to think anyone would want to hurt George.”

  Sara nodded at her in sad agreement and said, “You know this fellow they have in jail, this Vince Slayton, well he’s a distant relative from my dad’s side of the family.”

  “Yes, I know,” Sally said. She looked at the woman’s kind face and could only imagine how badly her father had treated her.

  “Well, I had the strangest experience last night and seeing this story, I just had to come and see you,” Sara said.

  “What happened?” Sally asked.

  Sara hesitated for a moment and then looked at both Alex and Sally. “It was this dream I had last night, but it was almost too real to be a dream. George Hansen came to see me, and we sat and talked.”

  “Oh Sara,” Sally said, rubbing the back of her hand.

  She smiled sadly and said, “Well, we talked about when I was a little girl and how your mother loved me and that she would have adopted me if my mother’s sister hadn’t come to take care of me.” She started to cry and reached into her purse for a Kleenex.

  Sally felt the tears welling up in her eyes, too. “I know my mother loved you so much, Sara.”

  “It was such a terrible day when I heard they had been lost with your little girl,” Sara said.

  Sally nodded, looking down at the table.

  “Well, George and I seemed to talk for the longest time last night and at the end he said the strangest thing.”

  “In this dream?” Alex asked.

  “Yes, but it was like he was there with me in my room and when I woke up this morning, I had the strangest sensation he really had been there.”

  Sally and Alex sat and listened to Sara and her story and the more she revealed about her visit and conversation with George Hansen the night before, the more shocked the expression on their faces became. When Sara finished, she looked at both of them as if hoping for some explanation of what had happened.

  Sally turned to look at her husband. “We really need to go talk to Elam.”

  Connor Harris and his son, Dylan were coming out of the back door of the house to drive into town when the sheriff’s car pulled in and blocked the drive. Connor was having trouble with his bad leg and struggled to get down the stairs. His thin gray hair was oily and unwashed and slicked back on his head.

  Sheriff Stone slowly climbed out of the car and then Alex and Sally Clark opened doors on the other side and came out to join him. Another patrol car pulled in and several uniformed deputies got out. Connor looked up with an uneasy expression.

  “What the hell is this all about?” Connor said as he limped over to lean against his car. Dylan stood back behind him with a bewildered look on his face.

  The sheriff walked up in front of Harris. “We received some information this morning that is a little troubling, Mr. Harris.” Sally and Alex came up and stood behind him.

  Connor struggled to remain calm and to keep his hands from shaking. “Go ahead,” he said with what he hoped would sound like defiance and not fear.

  “This project you’re trying to get approval for out at Horton Creek,” the sheriff said.

  “Yeah, what about it,” Dylan Harris said, coming up to stand next to his father.

  Stone said, “Seems that George Hansen was one of your biggest obstacles to getting this deal done. He was on the approval commission and wouldn’t back down.”

  Connor felt like his legs were going to melt out from under him and he held on to the car to steady himself. “He sure as hell wasn’t the only one,” Connor said slowly.

  “We’ve been told George Hansen was planning to expose the environmental mess you two were going to create out there along old Horton Creek and he was working hard to get all the information to the rest of the commission.”

  “What’s this all about?” Connor heard his son ask.

  “Mr. Harris,” Stone said, looking at Connor, “we think you know a man named Vince Slayton we have down at the jail.”

  Connor didn’t answer. He was focused on trying to stop his stomach from turning over and the sheriff’s words suddenly seemed a muffled echo.

  “Mr. Harris!” the sheriff said more loudly.

  Connor looked back at the sheriff and at Alex and Sally Clark with a blank stare. He tried to hide the panic on his face, but he knew there was no longer any point. He turned to look at his son who was standing there with a dazed and confused look on his face. “Dylan, I was only trying to help,” he said, the defeat in his voice clear to everyone.

  Megan Clark thought she had never seen a more beautiful place, standing in the shallow currents of Horton Creek, the crystalline water darting among moss and grass covered banks and deadfalls, tall green cedars pointing up into a bright blue sky. Will Truegood was at her side and silently motioned to the rise of a fish just across and downstream in a quiet eddy. She saw the tiny circle of water expanding as it moved away with the current. He pointed to where he wanted her to cast the little fly and she nodded, feeling her heart beat just a little faster.

  She felt him reach around and put his hand on the fly rod’s cork handle just above hers. Feeling him guide the rod up and back, the line came off the water below them with a quick snap and a million little droplets of water flew off the line in a brilliant mist of colors in the sunlight. The green line sailed back behind them until she felt his arm press forward and she watched as the line flowed out smoothly in front of them until the tiny yellow fly landed quietly just a few feet above where the fish had come up moments before. Holding her breath and watching the fly move slowly down to the fish, she felt Will’s arm around her, calm and comforting, but ready to lift at the first sign of the rise of the fish.

  “There!” he said, and she gasped as she felt the rod strike quickly in their hands and come tight to the fish as it sipped in the fly a
nd dove back for the bottom of the river.

  Will let go and she stood there alone with the fish, a thumping pull on the tip of the long flyrod. The fish ran fast downstream from her and the reel whined as the fish took line and then she felt Will behind her again, reaching to hold her hand, pulling the rod low and away from the fish.

  “Okay, you take it now,” he said and backed a step away.

  The fish slowed, and she began reeling and then it flew up out of the water down below them. She screamed out as it bucked and flipped over in the air, water splashing in all directions.

  “It’s a fine trout,” she heard him say. “Keep after it now.”

  She kept reeling and then the fish would run again and take back line.

  “Lay your rod over to the other side,” he told her.

  She knew she was gaining on the fish and the quick runs grew shorter. A drop of sweat dripped down her forehead and she wiped it away with her free hand. When she looked back at Will he was smiling at her.

  “Watch the fish!” he said.

  Then his arms were around her waist and he was pulling her gently backwards toward the near bank. They moved slowly through the current making sure of their steps in the loose bottom of the river. When they stopped in the slower current, she reeled fast against the fish and felt the elation of seeing it come close in the clear water, lying over on its side. The brilliant green colors of the fish sparkled in the flow of the water, a bright shock of orange behind its gills. As it came closer, Will stepped around and reached slowly down with the small wooden net. She pulled up on the rod to steer the fish until he lifted it up free of the current.

  “Wow!” was all she could manage to say as they both looked down at the beautiful fish. Will held the net low to let the flow of the river wash over it. Megan watched the fish breathe hard, its gills pulsing in the current. “It’s so beautiful,” she said.

  He took the rod from and her and placed a small pair of forceps in her hand. “I’ll let you get the fly. She could see it stuck in the corner of the fish’s mouth and she reached down and flicked it away, the fish flopping in protest. She handed the fly back to Will and then reached down into the net and placed her hand under the belly of the fish, feeling the cool wetness of it in the stream. She lifted it out and watched the colors of it shine in the sunlight. She turned to look back at Will and then the fish squirmed and leapt out of her hand up into the air, splashing down into the clear water and away before she could even react.