by Dan Padavona
His first thought was the killer had set a trap. Was the psycho behind him? Thomas cleared the closet. Nothing. There was nobody in the room, though he noted the bedspread wasn’t military-tight as he’d left it. The wrinkled bedspread told him someone had sat on the edge of the bed and awaited his arrival. It might have been Jack, though Thomas doubted it. He didn’t see dog hair on the ruffled corner of the bedspread.
He rushed to the window and looked down. It was a long drop from the second-story to the ground. The yard was empty.
Thomas blew out a frustrated breath and turned around, ready to clear the upstairs. He stopped.
Aguilar’s phone lay on his nightstand.
36
A fiery slice of sun lay visible over the water when Thomas called the others to the guest house. LeVar gathered with his mother, Raven, Darren, Scout, and Naomi inside the front room. Chelsey stood beside Thomas as the last flare of sunlight flickered and smoldered, as though the lake had doused the flames. Night advanced on the little house behind the A-frame.
They fidgeted in their seats as Thomas stood before them. By now, everyone knew the killer had abducted Deputy Aguilar and broken inside his house.
“I brought everyone together because I won’t allow this madman to endanger my friends and family. There’s an unmarked cruiser outside my mother’s house. She lives in a gated community with twenty-four-hour security detail, so I’m relatively certain she’s safe now. But I need your help.”
“Anything you need,” Darren said, folding his arms. “Deputy Aguilar is our friend too.”
“You can help me by leaving town.” They all gave him stunned looks. “All of you.”
“How can we help if we leave Wolf Lake?”
“Where would we go?” Serena asked.
“You expect us to pick up and leave?” Naomi raised her palms. “For how long?”
“The FBI is here, and we have full support from the New York State Troopers. As much as I value your opinions, I won’t be able to concentrate on the case if I’m worried about your safety.”
Darren set his hands on his hips.
“I’m a retired police officer. I can defend my home.”
Thomas stepped forward and gestured at the others.
“What about everyone else? Naomi and Scout are alone next door. Serena lives by herself on the other side of the lake. And you can’t be with Raven every minute of the day.”
“I’m a trained private investigator with a gun,” Raven said. “I’m not running away. Let me help you catch this guy.”
“I grew up around danger,” LeVar said, rising to his feet. “I can protect my friends. Say the word, and I’ll make sure Naomi and Scout are safe.”
“And Serena can live with us,” Naomi said, drawing nods from Serena and Scout.
Thomas swung his head back and forth.
“That’s not a risk I’m willing to take. You don’t appreciate the danger you’re in. This psycho kidnapped Deputy Aguilar under our noses and broke inside my house. He waited until LeVar took Jack for a walk. That tells me he’s watching us. Maybe even now.”
Uneasy murmurs rippled among them.
Raven stood and hooked arms with Darren.
“I’m with Darren and LeVar. If we leave just to get away from this creep, we reduce the chance of catching him. We’re making progress on the Poplar Corners investigation. We haven’t flown the drone yet.”
Thomas folded his arms.
“This isn’t up for debate. Look, there’s strength in numbers. He won’t go after you if you’re all together. Take a vacation. Find some sleepy bed-and-breakfast along Lake Ontario and buy a few rooms. If you stay, you’re all sitting ducks.”
Darren ground his teeth.
“We’re close to catching him, Thomas. Just a little more time. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“Darren, I trust you to defend yourself. But we’re too spread out, too thin. He’ll go after the person who’s alone.”
The state park ranger paced to the window and stared out at the lake. Darkness spilled down from the ridge, cloaking the land. Were it not for the first stars, the night would have rendered the lake invisible.
“There might be another option.”
Thomas leaned against the wall.
“I’m listening.”
“The state park. Until school releases for summer, cabin rentals run at low capacity. What if everyone moved into the cabins?”
Thomas opened his mouth to protest and stopped. That wasn’t a horrible idea.
“Tell me more.”
“Well, we only rented one cabin this week, and it’s on the far side of the clearing. If everyone took cabins near mine, we could watch each other’s backs and still work on the case.”
Scout, who hadn’t spoken to this point, bobbed her head.
“That’s perfect. We’d all be together, which means we could investigate full time.”
Naomi and Serena shared an agreeable glance.
“Think about it, Thomas,” Darren said, pointing up the hill toward the park. “I’ve had security cameras in place since the burglaries. No chance the killer sneaks up on us without me catching him.”
“And we’d be just up the hill,” said Raven. “LeVar and I can work with Chelsey on the Harmony Santos case and help the others catch the Poplar Corners ghost.”
Thomas chewed his lip. He’d feel more comfortable if they left town. But if everyone stayed together at the campgrounds, he could monitor them.
“All right, I’ll agree to that.”
LeVar gave Scout a high-five.
“Can we move in tonight?” Scout asked.
As Scout packed, voices carried from the kitchen, where Naomi conferred with Serena and LeVar. The teenager laid a suitcase open on the bed and wheeled herself to the dresser. Guessing they’d live at the cabins for three days or longer, she spooned clothes into her arms and hauled them back to the suitcase. Her mother had already agreed to keep Scout out of school through the week, provided Scout emailed her assignments to her teachers and studied every day. Final exams weren’t until the end of June, so this was the perfect time to miss a few school days.
A nervous butterfly fluttered inside her chest. The break-in at the A-frame highlighted the danger they were in. But if the team stayed together, they’d keep each other safe.
And they’d catch the creep. She was sure of it. With no school to worry about, Scout could concentrate on the investigation and work day and night to catch the so-called ghost.
Her mother knocked before entering.
“Are you packed?”
Scout zipped the suitcase.
“I am now.”
“What about your toothbrush?”
“Oops, I forgot.”
Naomi raised an eyebrow.
“You’re rushing, Scout. I realize you’re excited, but slow down. We can’t drive back and forth to the house if you forget something.”
“You’re right. It’s just that this is the first time I’ve worked full-time on a case. It’s like being a real investigator.”
Naomi planted a kiss on Scout’s head.
“I know it’s your dream and you’ll make it happen.” Her mother fought not to stare at Scout’s legs, but Scout noticed. “You will. Someday. I believe in you.”
LeVar and Serena stood beside their bags in the entryway when Scout trailed her mother into the living room. Naomi set Scout’s suitcase down and caught her breath. Smirking, LeVar lifted his chin at Scout.
“Bring enough clothes? You spending a few weeks in the Bahamas?”
“I always come prepared,” Scout said.
“Well, I’ll need a forklift to hoist the suitcase into my car. If I ruin my back, you and I will have words.”
They packed LeVar’s Chrysler Limited beneath a minefield of stars, the crickets singing around them. As LeVar helped Naomi and Serena with their bags, he kept glancing across the road toward the thicket, as though he sensed eyes on them. Then he scooped Scout into h
is arms and placed her on the backseat beside Naomi. Serena slid beside LeVar in front.
LeVar locked the doors and fired the engine. Through the rear windshield, Scout watched the darkness until the Chrysler began the steep climb into the state park.
37
Bright light shone from the ranger’s home and two neighboring cabins when LeVar’s car pulled into the welcome center at Wolf Lake State Park. Darren worried until he saw all four remaining members of the investigation team pile out of the Chrysler. Thomas was right. They needed to stick together. That was the only way to keep everyone safe.
An elderly couple rented a cabin at the far end of the lot. Their lights were off, the seniors turning in after sunset. Otherwise, the grounds were vacant.
LeVar pushed Scout’s wheelchair. Darren and Raven helped Serena and Naomi with their bags. Scout and Naomi took the cabin beside Darren’s home. The cabin featured a handicap-accessible shower. LeVar and Serena would share the next cabin over. After they dropped off their belongings, they gathered inside the ranger’s home. The clock read nine-thirty, and Naomi and Serena already had heavy eyelids. Raven set pizza and chips on the table. Darren walked the cabin perimeter with a holstered weapon, checking every shadow until he was satisfied nobody was creeping around the grounds.
When he returned to the cabin, the others sat around the table. He gestured at four monitors on the counter.
“After the break-ins, I installed security cameras around the cabins. They’ll come in handy over the next few nights, or however long it takes before we catch this killer. Nobody sneaks into camp without me knowing.”
LeVar’s old running mate from the Harmon Kings, Rev, had spied on LeVar’s guest house from the state park while he robbed cabins. The robberies prompted Darren to set up a security system. Now the monitors displayed color views of the grounds, the gain finely tuned to peer inside shadows.
“We should post guards,” LeVar said, glaring at the monitors. “I volunteer to keep watch tonight.”
“We’ll work in shifts,” Darren said. “LeVar, you monitor the grounds from eleven until three. I’ll relieve you from three to seven. By then, the sun will be up.”
“Bet. I got this covered.”
“We can help too,” Serena said.
“No sense in all of us losing sleep,” Darren said. “LeVar and I can handle the job and grab enough sleep to be useful during the day.”
“I’ll allow it,” Raven said, shooting Darren a meaningful glare. “Provided you sleep through the morning. I’ll work at the welcome center until you’re awake.”
Darren nodded, understanding he couldn’t run the park and keep his friends safe at the same time.
“So we’re in agreement. Scout.” The girl looked up. “Sift through the sightings data and give me your best guess where the ghost is hanging out in Poplar Corners. Tomorrow night, when the sun sets, we strike.”
“Are we flying the drone?”
“You bet. Which also means you need to figure out how to fly that sucker so we don’t crash it into a tree.”
“I’ll help,” Naomi said. “We’ll test the drone over the state park and ensure the video signal is strong.”
“Excellent idea,” Darren said. “Find how far we can fly the drone before it exceeds its range.” Darren fell silent until he won their attention. “Remember, this isn’t a vacation. We’re safe here as long as we’re vigilant and look out for each other. Our cabins sit side-by-side. I won’t allow anything to happen to you.” Darren wasn’t much for speeches. He cleared his throat. “Now, dig in and help yourself to pizza and chips. We might be here for several nights, so let’s make the most of it.”
As the team dished pizza onto paper plates, Darren’s eyes slid to the window. The night thickened, brushing up against the pane like an immortal foe.
He hoped the others understood the danger they were in.
38
Father Josiah Fowler emptied the last of the bourbon into his glass and guzzled it. He set the drink on his desk with a hollow plunk. The church was empty at this time of night, his staff at home in bed or inside the neighboring rectory. He didn’t trust the church after dark. It made strange noises when he was alone. Distant creaks that echoed through the corridors, occasional groans that sounded too much like footsteps moving among the pews.
His head swam when he stood up from his chair. The priest clutched the desk until he found his footing. With a moan, he locked his office and passed through the gloomy corridor. He peeked his head inside the church school classroom, as if searching for phantoms, before climbing the stairs toward the vestibule. Each footfall echoed back to him.
Inside the vestibule, he stared inside the church. Two statues of angels holding water bowls welcomed guests. In the semi-dark, their eyes appeared haunted and accusatory.
Fowler wiped the inebriation off his face, locked the doors so the angels couldn’t follow him home, and descended the steps outside the church. The stars were sharp tonight. Boundless.
His legs wobbled as he gripped the rail. Had he murdered that woman, Lana Gray? He remembered climbing into the car, his head spinning with drink. He’d known driving was a terrible idea, that he should have called a cab or slept the bourbon off in his car before he twisted the ignition. Then the yellow dividing line seemed to warp and undulate as he weaved from one shoulder to the next.
That was the last he remembered of the drive.
The next morning, there were questions from the sheriff and his deputies. Sheriff Gray’s wife was dead, the grille of the car crushed against a tree. A witness claimed Fowler had crossed the centerline moments before Lana Gray rounded the bend. But no one proved the priest caused the crash. It might have been ice or the frigid night. Perhaps she fell asleep at the wheel. Maybe . . .
A scuffling sound pulled his eyes around the church. Last month, a raccoon had gotten into the garbage can and spilled trash across the grass. But this noise sounded too heavy to be a raccoon.
He stopped and stared. It was too dark to see past the bushes.
“If you’re looking for something to steal, you’re out of luck. Try a bank.”
Fowler chuckled at his own joke. But uneasiness tinged his drunken laughter. He recalled that old saying, whistling past the graveyard.
His eyes fell. It was hardly pious to assume the worst. What if the person needed help?
“Hello there. Are you injured? Call out to me, and I’ll help you.”
A loud thud made him jump. His hands clenched. Something sinister walked among the darkness.
Picking up his pace, he crossed the lawn and started up the rectory sidewalk. The lights were off inside. Everyone had turned in for the night except Fowler. Bordering the walkway, four lamps cast dimly lit pools across the concrete. The priest yearned for the light, yet it seemed so far away.
Footsteps swished through the grass as a shadow blackened the outer wall of the rectory. Fowler held his breath and hurried forward, his heart a metronome in his throat, sweat breaking out along his back.
He cried out when the silhouette lurched out of hiding and blocked his path. For a moment, his frantic mind conjured images of vampires, demons, and the devil.
“Good evening, Father.”
Though shadows concealed the man’s face, Fowler recognized the voice. The man from the confession booth. The animal who’d left the woman’s hand inside the box. Fowler suddenly wished he’d broken his oath and cooperated with Sheriff Shepherd.
“Go away. You’ve caused enough terror, haven’t you?”
“I promised we’d meet again, and I never break a promise.”
“The child. Did you—”
“I showed the boy mercy. Unlike you.”
“Who are you?”
The man stepped into the lamplight. Silvery illumination highlighted his fair hair and wild eyes. Fowler knew this man. He’d been but a boy when Fowler last encountered him. An innocent, doe-eyed child. It had been a huge mistake, a moment of weakness. If the priest
could turn back time . . .
“Do you remember me, shaman?”
“I’m so sorry.”
The knife thrust into Fowler’s belly and twisted. Hot, crippling pain tore through Fowler as his legs gave out. The priest toppled forward, and the ghost cradled him in his arms, almost lovingly, before setting him on the sidewalk. Fowler glared wide-eyed at the murderer as blood bubbled out of his stomach. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. The ghost dropped to his knees.
“I’ll see you in hell, pretend priest.”
Justice Thorin plunged the blade into Fowler’s chest.
39
Aguilar’s internal clock warned her the kidnapper hadn’t visited the cells in twelve hours. Which was unusual. Her abductor crept into the underground lair every six to eight hours, sometimes through the cellar door, other times through a trapdoor that led to the outside world. Aguilar had glimpsed blue sky the last time the creep opened the trapdoor and climbed inside. Where was he? Had he abandoned Aguilar and Lonnie to starve and die?
She paced the cage in absolute darkness, the soil rough against her bare feet. Her skin rippled with goosebumps. It was as if the underground enclosure trapped the departed winter, storing it until the leaves changed. She longed for sunlight and people and rush-hour traffic jams. Yet sometimes she was thankful for the dark. That way Lonnie didn’t see her stripped to her underwear and T-shirt, her dignity stolen. She’d become a caged animal who only existed to amuse her captor.
After every step, she tested the bars, searching for a weak spot. Along the front of the cage, she rattled the iron enclosure and discerned more wiggle than she’d found with the other bars. Her foot stepped into a clump of soil and rock. She’d noticed the pile when the kidnapper shone light into her prison, but hadn’t thought about it until now. Someone had found the weak point and shook the bars until soil cascaded from the dirt ceiling. Now that she thought about it, a similar clump lay in Scott Rehbein’s cage. Had the college student discovered a loose bar before the psycho murdered him?