by D. W. Brown
When a man wearing a priest’s collar started walking his way, Russell found himself wanting the overweight man back. He wasn’t too fond of Catholics, and he feared his tongue would let loose a few words he’d regret later. He didn’t want the Pope and the entire Catholic Church mad at him; he’d often compared their money and power to that of the mob.
CHAPTER 22
“Looks like I have the window seat.” The priest said way too chipper.
“Okay, let me slide out, and you come on in.” Russell said less than chipper.
“I’m Father Gregory. It appears we’ll be keeping
each other company for the duration of the flight.
“It seems that way. Five and a half hours is a long time. I hope you brought your pillow.” Russell said, hoping to make clear his intentions. He’d gotten in bed late thanks to Sam, had woken up at five, driven forty-five minutes to the airport, and sat another hour after the security pat down en route to his departure gate. The last thing he wanted was to chat with a wine drinking, cursing Catholic priest.
“You forgot to give me your name.”
“I’m sorry, it’s Russell. Russell Jackson.” He wasn’t sure why he lied about his name, but it flew out almost as if it were true. Feeling a little ashamed for focusing too much on himself and forgetting his basic manners, Russell held out his hand.
“Nice to meet you, Russell. Are you from New Mexico, or what?”
“I’m actually from Wise, Virginia. I just have a little business that I need to look into there. How about you?”
“A friend of mine needs my help, so I reluctantly left the snowy north and headed down for some sunshine.”
“Way to take one for the team.” “Someone had to do it.”
“Hopefully your friend is okay.” Russell said fishing.
“He’s just trying to find his way back into the real world again. He grew up in Taos, and felt the need to go back there after a long hiatus.”
Now the priest definitely had Russell’s attention. “You said he grew up in Taos? Did he get into some trouble?”
“It’s a long story, and one that I not at liberty to divulge. Suffice it to say that this young man got into some stuff when he was younger and has needed my assistance for quite a few years. He’s doing better now, but he still calls regularly seeking my advice. Since my line of work is normally slow in the winter in the Upper Peninsula (UP) of Michigan, I thought I’d stop in and offer him some encouragement. What about you, Russell? What kind of business are you looking into halfway across the country?”
Something about the priest’s question didn’t sit too well with Russell. His detective skills started questioning the man next to him. What priest travels such a vast distance just to check on a prior patient? Suddenly it clicked for Russell. The only people that priests saw other than their congregation members were prisoners. Could the friend that Father Gregory was referring to be a previous habitant in one of the jails up north?
“I’m a local travel agent doing a little research on the area, to see if it would make a good destination for a discounted vacation for some of my frequent travelers.” Not the best lie, but it was the first thing that came to Russell’s mind.
“From what I’ve heard, Taos is the last place anyone would want to vacation. You might be wasting your time, Russell. Might I suggest Albuquerque? I hear they have excellent skiing there, as well as some pretty good restaurants and summer activities. They even do a hot air balloon festival every October. I haven’t personally been, but from what I’ve seen on the internet, that’s the place to visit.”
“I just might have to rent a car and change my plans, if Taos doesn’t pan out. Thanks for the advice, Father.”
Father Gregory’s insistence that he go elsewhere seemed more than just casual concern. Russell got the feeling that he really didn’t want him there. He began to question what the priest was up to. In an effort to change the subject, Russell said, “So how do you like it up north, in Michigan?”
“Love it. The snow and cold can be a little daunting at times, but I own two snow mobiles and fifteen acres of land. I try to make the best of it. Plus, the lakes are beautiful. I’m a member of Club Michihiggi, which is basically a group of old people that got together when we were in our prime and purchased some lakefront property. We each have a place within walking distance of the clearest blue water you’ve ever seen.”
“Sounds like I should be doing a reconnaissance up there, instead of New Mexico.”
“Unfortunately, we don’t offer much in the way of that fireball in the sky. He only visits us briefly from late May thru early July, and then it’s back to 50 degree and below weather. You have to time things just right to actually get into the water and swim. Other than that, it’s an amazing place to live and visit. One of our members has a sailboat, so we’re more often than not out in the middle of South Higgins Lake. There’s also a sunken island about five miles offshore, where the water goes from hundreds of feet deep to three and four feet.”
“You’re making me seriously rethink this trip, you know.”
“You could always change your plans and head up north. I could even meet you up there in a couple of weeks.”
“And waste the five hundred dollars I already spent on this business getaway? I think I will have to put Michigan on the calendar for next year.”
The remainder of the flight was spent talking about all the things you could do in Michigan, and all the things you couldn’t do in Wise, Virginia. Russell didn’t mind the limitations of his hometown, because he wasn’t much on big city life to begin with. He did have a problem with Father Gregory’s nonstop talking. Even when he tried closing his eyes, the good Father just kept on yapping. Looks like no sleep on this flight for me, he thought.
Once the plane landed and stopped at their arrival gate, the voice of the Chief Purser came over the intercom. “Ladies and gentlemen, we have a quick form that we need all of you to fill out prior to getting off the plane. It seems that your destination has had quite a few issues with tourists digging around the town in search of the source of the mysterious Taos Hum. In case you’re not familiar, the town here petitioned the government to research the strange humming sound that many of the residents were hearing back in the early ‘90’s. To make a long story short, the humming sound abruptly stopped but the inquisitive minds around the world didn’t. So do yourself a favor and drop your shovels off in the garbage cans that we have waiting outside the gate.”
Looking over at Father Gregory, Russell said, “Are they for real? They’re really collecting shovels from the passengers? I highly doubt this humming sound can be located with something that small—I’d understand a backhoe or some earth moving machinery.”
“Sounds reasonable to me. I wouldn’t want some stranger digging around in my backyard.” Father Gregory replied.
“What the mayor here in Taos is asking you to do is to fill out the purpose of your visit, so the residents here won’t have to shoot you for trespassing later.”
A loud roar of murmurs flowed through the planes
belly.
“Just kidding. Your stewardess will pass out the forms now. Once you’ve finished and a representative from the mayor’s office has blessed off on yours, you will be free to depart.”
Something about the entire thing didn’t smell right to Russell. Could they even ask for such a thing? He wondered how many of his rights were being infringed upon by this requirement.
“What if we’re already a resident here?” An older gentleman raised his hand and asked.
“Just list your address and be on your way, sir?” Lying, Russell listed the same story he’d relayed to
Father Gregory just five hours prior, on the form. He didn’t like it, and he planned to voice his opinion as soon as he was behind closed doors with the She
riff of Taos. For now, he thought it best to go along with the others, although he couldn’t stop a question from slipping out of his mouth.
“What if we decline to fill out this form?”
While quite a few of the passengers seemed to agree with him, more than half gave him a look of utter disbelief—they actually seemed appalled that he’d have the nerve to ask such a thing. They obviously didn’t share Russell’s frustration at being made to fill out the form in the first place. He couldn’t help but wonder if they were residents there. What is it with this crazy town?
“Then you’ll have to remain seated, and explain your reasoning to the representative from the mayor’s office. He should be here any minute now,” said the Chief Purser with way too much enthusiasm.
No more had she finished the sentence, when a
young man in his thirties appeared in the doorway, wearing a suit and tie. The Chief Purser immediately handed him the microphone.
“Ladies and gentlemen, I’m Judd Wilkinson, special advisor to the mayor here in Taos. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this might be causing you all. Unfortunately, we’ve had numerous calls about non-residents of Taos trespassing on people’s property, as well as stealing. It seems some of our tourists are in search of this mythical humming sound, and when they fail to find it, they decide to steal whatever they come across. With that being said, you can form a single file line and I’ll look over your Taos Entry Forms. You’ll be on your way in a matter of minutes.”
It was hard for Russell to believe that the mayor would have such a young advisor. The man didn’t look like a wealth of knowledge, but he’d misjudged before. Still, it was hard to hand the young man his ‘Taos Entry Form’, and actually take it all seriously. The entire idea sounded preposterous. What kind of town restricts people from entering, unless they fill out a disclaimer prior to? Remembering what Mr. Ridenour had confessed to him about not being able to enter the town after he left, Russell grew even more suspicious of the goingson there.
When it came his turn, Russell placed his card in the young man’s hand and tried to avoid eye contact. He didn’t want the advisor to know more than was absolutely necessary, just in case he needed to use this travel agent cover later on. His detective mind already had the young man and the mayor somehow tied up in the Taos murders.
“So you’re a travel agent, huh, Mr...Mr. Jackson?” “I am indeed, sir. I’m always looking for new places
to offer my clients. From what I read on the internet, Taos looked like a pretty good spot to sightsee, and relax.” Russell replied, knowing he’d lied about his last name and everything else for that matter. For some reason, he didn’t trust anyone on the plane, or in the weird town.
“Taos is a great place to visit, but the locals around town here don’t take too kindly to tourists, Mr. Jackson.”
“That’s what I’ve been hearing. If my time here ends up being a waste then I guess I’ll do a little sightseeing myself, just to make the most of my trip. After all, I did just fly over five hours to come visit this place.”
“You don’t look like a travel agent, Mr. Jackson.” Judd said suspiciously.
“And what exactly does a travel agent look like, sir?” Russell replied growing a bit agitated. He was already appalled for being made to fill out the silly entrance form, and he was beginning to think the mayor’s aide an interrogator.
“You know a nice suit, tie, and maybe even a girlish voice. You do know that most males in your profession are gay, don’t you?
“No, I wasn’t aware of that! Are we finished here?” Russell almost spit the words out, he was so fired up. “I just don’t want you to get on the people’s bad side, Mr. Jackson. Please don’t think we’re an inhospitable bunch here in Taos. We welcome all visitors, but you have to understand the frustration that these people have dealt with over the years. Would you want some stranger lurking around in your backyard with
a shovel?”
Settling a bit, Russell said, “No, I guess you’re right. Just point me to the best bar in town, sir. I’ll throw back a drink or two, take a quick drive around town, and look at getting an early return flight for tomorrow.”
“Now that sounds like a plan, Mr. Jackson. The Broken Hearts Saloon is located downtown, and they stay open until two in the morning. Tell them Judd Wilkinson sent you, and they’ll take good care of you.” At the gate, Russell watched as three of the passengers onboard his flight dropped small military style shovels inside two large trash cans situated on the left and right sides of the gate. He couldn’t believe people were actually doing such a thing, but then again, he couldn’t believe he’d just filled out a form basically stating his every move while in the crazy town.
The two large gentlemen on either side of the shovel cans eyed him suspiciously as he walked by, making Russell wonder if they’d tackle him at any minute and do a shovel search. This actually made him smile—how ludicrous this entire thing seems, he thought.
As he grabbed his bag, Russell turned and was met by the same person he planned to visit once he got settled into his hotel room.
“Hello, Mr. Jackson, I’m Sheriff Bowman. I run things around this town, and I was told you were here to showcase Taos as some sort of hot travel destination for your organization. I thought I’d see if I could be of any assistance.”
“Wow, news really travels fast around here.” “Usually does in small towns, Mr. Jackson. Now
how can I be of assistance?”
CHAPTER 23
Taking the gray haired Sheriff in, Russell noticed right away the rugged, sun-weathered face, hands, and arms of the man. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties, and had the normal male balloon belly, bulldog cheeks, and thinning hairline. But there was something about the man that made Russell feel a little uncomfortable about being near him. Of course, it could’ve been the way he kept staring at him suspiciously. What is it with these people?
Seeing how the Sheriff was acting made Russell leery to state his official business—he was beginning to wonder if the man might somehow be involved in the murders too.
“I was just planning on grabbing a room at one of your local hotels and driving around a bit. From what I’ve already been told, my trip here might’ve been a total waste. Not many people around here seem to think that Taos is a good tourist location.”
“It’s not really that, Mr. Jackson. This is just a quiet town where people like their privacy. We’re no different from any other town across the country.”
“You’re probably right, Sheriff. It’s just disappointing for me to fly all the way over here for nothing.” What he wanted to say was, Oh, this town is vastly different, Sheriff Bowman. In fact, I’ve never seen a town where you’re hounded during your visit, and encouraged not to come back. Not to mention the fact that numerous residents from here have committed murders all across the country.
“I’m sorry things worked out like this, Mr. Jackson. If you’re around Roland’s Bar and Grill tomorrow night, I’d love to stop in and buy you a beer.”
“That sounds great. What time?” Russell replied, wondering which bar would be better, this one or the Broken Heart.
“Say 6:00?” Sheriff Bowman replied.
“I’ll be there, as long as I can find it.” Russell replied, wondering if this was the Sheriff’s way of keeping tabs on him during his short stay in town. If so, he’d get a big surprise tomorrow when Russell told him that he decided to stay around and make the most of his planned three day trip. He wasn’t about to leave now that he saw firsthand the way folks from the area seemed to want to protect something. The question was what were they protecting? What were these people hiding?
Thankful to be alone again, Russell went over and rented a small car at the rental agency diagonal from baggage claim. He wasn’t surprised when they treated him with the same suspicious nature that eve
ryone else did. They’d also heard about the purpose of his visit, and like the others, tried to discourage it.
With the small map he’d purchased from the ‘nice’ owner of Taos Rentals lying open on the passenger seat next to him, Russell leaned his head back against the rest and let out a deep breath. Nothing was going as anticipated, and he was beginning to worry a bit. This thing was starting to look bigger than he’d originally thought, and he feared what might come of it. Maybe I should’ve remained at home with Sam and let Dean and the Bureau handle this mess.
Putting the car into gear, Russell navigated away from the airport, and remained on highway 64 until he saw a sign for downtown Taos, about ten minutes later.
Driving slowly through town, he received numerous stares and a few dirty looks from some of the men and women moving about the area. He waved, put on his best smile, and actually received a long middle finger salute from a young man for his efforts.
Coming from Wise, a town where people went out of their way to be friendly to each other, Russell hated the place already. It reminded him of Washington D.C., another place filled with arrogant and unfriendly people.
During his time with the Bureau, Russell often wondered why the people around the area didn’t just quit their jobs and move elsewhere—surely it wasn’t worth being so unhappy. While he was there, he’d looked up death rates due to heart disease once, and sure enough, D.C. was at the top of the list. No wonder he surmised, everyone is so unhappy that they’ve put themselves into an early grave due to discontentment and bitterness. Such feelings eventually lead to heart attacks and strokes.
Russell passed by a few of the larger hotels around the area, such as the Hotel La Fonda de Taos, the Sun God Lodge, and the Sagebrush Inn, and although they all looked like good places to experience all that Taos had to offer, he knew he needed to keep a low profile. He worried that the locals would spend more time trying to get him to leave than cleaning his room. Still, it was hard not to go inside the Hotel La Fonda and walk around the many shops below the hotel. The place looked very friendly and inviting, and maybe it was—to the residents of the area at least. Since he wasn’t part of that group, he didn’t think they’d take too kindly to his browsing around. Heaven forbid he pull out a shovel and act like he was going to dig up the floor—they’d probably have him locked up within the first few seconds.