by Anne Hagan
“All right then. I’ll let you do your thing. Sorry to tear you away from the family on a summer Friday night.”
He waved a hand dismissively and she scooted out the door.
Saturday Morning, June 13th
Crane Family Farm
Morelville, Ohio
“You’re in a lot of trouble young man!”
“Grandma, I’m sorry,” Cole pleaded.
“You could have been hurt; whatever happened to that man could have happened to you. Why there are any number of things that…” She stopped speaking but stood over him, one hand on her hip, wagging a finger of the other hand at him.
“I know,” he hung his head. “Mom thrashed me for hours about it already.”
Faye brushed off his exaggeration and continued, “Oh, you ain’t heard the last of it yet; not by a longshot! You still have your aunt and your grandfather to deal with you on this yet.”
Cole sucked in a breath and blew it out hard. “What do you think Papa will do?”
“I don’t know that for sure but I can imagine he’ll start with tanning your hide. That’s what he ought’a do, anyway.”
His eyes shifted as he heard the kitchen door open and then he cringed as the sound of heavy boots clomped across the tiled floor. Cole gulped and shrank back in his chair, scared to see who would round the corner into the sitting room of the old farm house.
He was only slightly relieved when it was his aunt that appeared rather than his grandfather. She looked from one to the other of them and then addressed her mother. “There are some flower starters out in the bed of the truck from Joanne Laymon. She thought you might want them.”
Faye took the hint and moved to leave but not before she shot back over her shoulder, “You probably ruined any chance you had to make Eagle Scout.”
Mel shifted her gun belt slightly and sat down in the chair nearest to Cole’s, remaining silent to let her mother’s parting words hang in the air. She eyed the boy up and down but he kept his own eyes downcast.
“Look at me,” she finally commanded.
He raised his head slowly and focused his eyes just over the badge pinned on the left side of her uniform shirt.
“Cole?”
He tipped his head then and looked her in the eyes.
“You broke into a building you had no business being in.”
Cole nodded.
“You were doing God knows what in there that could have gotten you seriously hurt.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew better before too.” She sighed. “I’ve spoken to Jerry’s parents. They’re of the same mind that I am. You were both wrong and you both deserve to be punished. I’ve left it to them how to deal with him. Your mother will deal with you but Grandpa, Grandma and I will have input.”
“Yes ma’am. That’s why I’m out here. Mom says I’m to help with all the farm chores, for starters.”
“Yes, that’s a start.” She shook her head and looked at him, her disappointment showing in her eyes.
“I’m sorry Aunt Mel. I really am. I know I’ll still be punished and all but…I’m just really sorry.”
She half nodded at him and then, with a softer tone she told him, “There’s something else; two things actually. “I know, and the Carrs’ know, that you two didn’t act alone. They’re well aware that Jerry doesn’t do anything without Tim Locke and vice versa. I won’t pretend to know the reason why you or Carr or Locke or anyone else felt the need to be in there but we know – me and my deputies – that there were at least four of you…at least. Do you care to elaborate on that?”
Cole started to say, “It was just me and…,” but then he thought better of lying to her and making the whole situation worse. “I can’t say anything else and I can’t tell you why.”
“They’re not your friends Cole, if that’s what you’re thinking. Friends don’t let friends take the fall.”
The teenager looked away, out the window behind the chair he was seated in. A bird landed on the rail of the porch, flapped its wings and chirped. Cole barely made out the answering chirp from another bird and then, just as abruptly, the bird that had landed on the rail flew away. He wished he was free to fly too.
He thought of something then. “You said there were two things. What was the second thing?” He braced one hand on the edge of the side table between the two chairs and looked at her intently now, knowing the worst would come later in a council held with his granddad at the helm. With his own father gone, and never figuring much in his life growing up anyway, his Papa Jesse had the most male influence on his world. Lance, his mother’s new husband, tried but he was away from home, on the road all the time and he only wanted to relax when he was at home.
Mel gave him a tight lipped smile before she spoke. “Sweetie, as bad as breaking into that place was and horsing around and doing whatever else you boys were doing, it pales in comparison to finding that man and reporting it and then hanging around to take your lumps. You did the wrong thing to begin with but it led to the right thing. Who knows how long he may have lain there before he was ever found.
Monday evening, June 15th
Robert Henson steepled his hands and looked across the desk over them at the young man sitting in front of him. “Scout Law tells us what?”
“A Scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent,” Cole recited dutifully.
“And which pieces of that have your actions been contradictory to?”
The teen’s brow furrowed. “Obedient. I broke the law.”
Henson nodded. “What else?”
“Trustworthy.”
“Yes. Anything else?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Think harder.” He drummed his fingers on the desk lightly as Cole tapped his cheek in counterpoint to the tapping and thought hard.
“Brave,” he said after several long seconds.
“Why brave?”
Cole’s voice tremored as he told his Scoutmaster, “Because I didn’t have the courage to stand up for what was right about going in there in the first place.”
Again Henson nodded. “What does Scouting mean to you, Cole?”
The boy leaned forward in his chair and dropped his hands between his knees. “I…I like being a scout…”
“Hmm. You used to love it. You and Brian came up through the ranks together, point for point, patch for patch. You’re both a step from deciding on your Eagle projects.” He paused and let the silence hang for a moment and then asked, “Do you still love it?”
“I…I don’t know. I suppose.” Coles eyes told Robert Henson the truth.
“I think you do but I think you’re scared; scared of what the guys on the football team think about it – about what the cool kids will say.”
Cole grinned at his use of the term ‘cool kids’ but then looked away.
Henson knew he was right but he also knew the boy needed to work it out for himself. “You think on it,” he told him instead. “You want out, you’re out; but it will be your decision. One mistake isn’t going to get you booted; not in my book, not in this troop. I know Pastor Scott would agree with me as the representative of our sponsoring body. I want you to do me one favor though, before you decide.”
“What?”
“I want you to go and talk to him.”
Chapter 5 – Gross Out
10:02 AM, Tuesday, June 16th
Morelville General Store
“You know anything about that guy that died over there in the old opera house building?”
Marco shook his head. “Can’t say that I do. You?” He watched as Faye emerged from the storeroom and came toward the front of the store.
“Well no, that’s why I’m asking.”
“Asking what, if I might ask, Mr. Gross?” Faye butted in.
“Faye Crane. Always wonderful to see you,” Kent Gross replied. He gave her a slight smile that didn’t quite reach his ey
es. “I was just inquiring after the man that passed on.”
Faye’s answering look was skeptical but she filled him in with the little anyone knew. “His name was Gregory Sellers. He’s from some town down in Florida and he had a key to get into the building. That’s all anyone knows about him.”
“A key? You’re sure?” Kent looked surprised.
“Yes. That’s what we’ve heard anyway.”
“Will this be all Mr. Gross?” Marco passed a hand over the grocery items on the counter.
The other man nodded but continued to address Faye. “Mel find that out?”
“She was on the scene the night he was found.”
“So, if he had a key, he must be associated with the ownership of that building?”
“I don’t know; I suppose. What’s it to you?”
“It’s no secret that I’ve been wanting to buy it for years for the land but I can’t get anywhere at all with the county. It’s held in trust and if they know any more than whom the trustee is or how to contact them, they aren’t being forthcoming with the information.”
“I wasn’t aware it was for sale, Mr. Gross.”
“Faye, Faye…call me Kent. You’re always so formal with me.”
She bristled at his attempt to be so familiar. “Why do you even want it Mr. Gross, if it is…er, was, in fact for sale? To tear it down just like you’ve done with some of the lovely old homes around here? To build some monstrosity on it that no one wants?”
“That’s your opinion Faye. Others love the idea of a little progress in town; a little new money flowing in, supporting the local businesses.”
“Who might that be? Frankly, I believe it all depends on your definition of progress.”
Marco’s head spun from one to the other as the two skirmished, the groceries he was supposed to be ringing up forgotten.
Kent Gross looked at him. “I know you’re pretty new in town but didn’t you come from a bigger city?”
“McKeesport, a suburb of Pittsburgh,” Marco supplied.
“Wouldn’t you like to see a few more – amenities – in town; things that will bring just a few people in and bring you some business…bring that little bakery back there some business.”
He shrugged. “It doesn’t make any difference to me. I’m semi-retired. Didn’t move here to run myself ragged.”
Faye nodded her agreement. “Whatever you’re planning for that space over there, you can probably just forget it. That building is historical. Folks in town won’t take kindly to you tearing it down. You’ll have no support from most.”
“That all depends on who owns it, now doesn’t it? I presume Mel is getting in touch with the gentleman’s next of kin. Someone’s bound to be coming ‘round soon. I mean, when did he actually die?”
“He was found Friday night,” she told him reluctantly.
“So someone’s missing him by now, if Mel hasn’t already tracked his family down.”
“That’s Mel’s business. I don’t go messing in it.”
Kent choked back a laugh and Marco began to busy himself with the groceries.
Faye’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen you around the last few days or so. In fact, you missed the grand opening of Hannah’s bakery Saturday and you weren’t at church on Sunday.”
“I’ve been out of town; even did a taping of a TV news magazine show with a real estate developer’s round table on Thursday evening. I’m sure the local ABC network affiliate will pick it up and play it some weekend here soon since it’s about the area. You might want to watch; you’ll see all the possibilities.”
“I like things just fine exactly the way they are.”
12:35 PM
County Morgue
“The impact was pretty severe Sheriff; broke his nose and several bones in his cheeks when he hit the floor. He has one broken and two cracked ribs and his left ankle is broken too. I’m of a mind to say he was pushed fairly hard causing him to be launched from the stage area and hit the floor face first, but I can’t prove it.”
“No marks on his back?”
Lucas Kreskie shook his head no. “Nothing. He had a t-shirt on, and a dress shirt and suit jacket over that. He might have been over dressed for the warm weather but he was dressed for business and all of that blunted any marks anyone giving him a push might have left.”
“I’ve been in touch with the Florida State Police. They’re attempting to locate his next of kin. When they do, they’ll probably want to come and claim his body or maybe have it transported down there.”
“That’s fine. There’s nothing more I can do except keep him on ice until that’s all worked out.”
Tuesday afternoon, June 16th
Cole smoothed his hands over his good jeans, screwed up his courage and got out of his grandmother’s car.
“I’m going to help Hannah get the shop closed up. You come over there when you’re done,” Faye instructed him.
“Yes ma’am.” He watched as she pulled away and then turned and ambled slowly up the walkway to the side entry of the church. He took a deep breath and blew it out before opening the door and stepping inside.
He was struck immediately, as he always was, by the way the old building smelled. It had the muskiness of dust combined with the smell of wood polish and cleaners like his grandmother used in the old farm house and another scent mixed with all of that he just couldn’t describe. His grandfather had told him one time that it was just church smell and they all smelled the same.
He turned out of the little coat vestibule and walked toward the office. The secretary popped out of the office just then, making him jump and stop in his tracks.
“Hello Cole. Didn’t mean to scare you…so sorry.”
“It’s okay. I didn’t expect you to be in there Ms. Procter.”
“Hmm, who were you expecting?”
“I uh, came to see Pastor Scott.”
“Does he know you were coming in?”
Cole wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. “I don’t know…I think so. My Scoutmaster set this up.”
“I see. Well, he’s upstairs in his office. Let me just call up to him and see if he’s able to see you now.”
She went back into her little cubbyhole of an office and Cole stepped closer to the doorway but stopped short. He listened as she picked up the phone to call the Pastor and was surprised to hear her address him as Seth.
He moved into the doorway then and whispered, “Is that Pastor Scott?”
Doris nodded to Cole as she listened to the voice on the other end of the line. She said thank you and hung up then said to him, “He is expecting you. You can go right up.”
“I’m confused. I thought his name was Scott.”
She laughed and patted his arm. It is. “It’s Seth Scott. Scott is his last name and certainly what you should continue to call him young man, that or Reverend Scott, now hustle up. Don’t keep him waiting.”
Cole grinned, some of the tension leaving him at the thought of thinking one thing for a couple of years or so and finding out something different. Thinking he should start paying more attention to things, he was already in a better frame of mind when he entered the Pastor’s office.
Seth stood when Cole entered the room, smiled and waved a hand toward a small sofa and chair arrangement out in front of his desk. He moved around his desk to join the teen then.
“Boy, I sure thought this was going to be like going to the principal’s office,” Cole said, “but this isn’t so bad.”
“You’ve been to the principal’s office, have you?”
Cole squirmed but then the pastor smiled.
“I’m kidding son. We’ve all been there a time or two in our lives.” Seth took a seat across from Cole and leaned toward him, his forearms resting on his thighs. He looked relaxed and ready to talk. “Why don’t we talk about Scouting?”
“Okay.”
“This church didn’t sponsor a troop when I came on here three years ago but you’re getting ready to work on
becoming an Eagle Scout, correct?”
“Yes sir.”
“That’s quite an honor and only a few – a few of the best – ever get that far. Tell me, where did you start out, as a Cub Scout, or did you join later on?”
“I’ve been in Scouts all along. My grandpa took me over to the elementary school on 146 for meetings when I was a Cub and then for Weeblos. When they started here at the church and I didn’t have to go so far anymore, I started coming here instead; lots of boys did.”
“You stuck it out pretty far, you and Brian. You haven’t given up. That says a lot about you.”
“It does?”
Seth nodded. “Yes. It says you like what you’re doing, you’re not a quitter and that you seek to serve.”
It was Cole’s turn to nod. “I guess. I really hadn’t thought about it. Papa always brought me to meetings so I just kept coming…”
“Is that really true?”
“Yeah; I mean, I guess.”
“I’m usually around on your meeting nights, for the first part of them, at least. I’ve noticed that you usually get yourself here.”
“Well, except in the summer, I stay in the village now mostly with my mother and Lance instead of out with Grandma and Papa.”
“But you walk over here and come to the meetings. Nobody’s making you do that, right?”
“No.”
“You work on badges and projects and go on hikes and campouts. No one is forcing you to do those things, right?”
“No.”
“Do you see what I’m getting at?”
“I guess I do it because I want to.”
“Because you enjoy it, because it’s fun, because you have friends in the troop…like Brian. Good friends.”
“Yeah…” Light dawned in Cole’s eyes. “I’m starting to see why Mr. Henson wanted me to come and talk to you.”
“We all make mistakes Cole.”
“I bet you don’t.”
Seth drew in a quick breath and muttered, “Oh yeah, I do.”
“What?”
The Pastor cleared his throat, “I do too. Lots of them. There’s always stuff I’m working on about me. None of us are perfect but we all are in God’s eyes when we ask for his forgiveness and when we ask him to show us the way.”