Lt North heard someone yell, “Gun!” followed by two quick shots.
Connard and the two officers emerged from the shadows in front of the vehicle. Weapons still drawn pointed at the front seat of the blue Ford focus. Lieutenant North noticed that Connard had a strange look on his face as he approached the vehicle. Looking like a plastic mannequin who could walk.
North scrambled for his radio to call for EMS units telling dispatch. “Get me the DA and SBI, also” he ordered. “We’ve got an officer-involved shooting. Suspect is down.”
Almost immediately the dispatcher retransmitted “are all APD units 10 four?”
North was not sure how to respond, Bill had been an APD unit before being shot. Keying the mike again, he said. “Suspect is down.” Thinking this was the best answer he had at the moment.
Sergeant Bishop heard the traffic stop in progress about three blocks away from where he stood with Warren. He advised Joshua he would be in touch. Someone would need to dig up the Mojo hand left by Jennifer under the township tree. Warren advised that he would as soon as possible, if not tonight as soon as he could tomorrow morning.
Bishop arrived at the traffic stop and used his vehicle to help block Patton Avenue. Keeping citizens back away from possible harm. Taking up a position beside his patrol vehicle. He watched Sergeant Wilson, who had placed himself behind his car and was giving verbal commands to the occupants of a small blue vehicle. Bishop had a view of the shooting incident. He watched in almost slow motion in his mind, Connard and the other officers approached the vehicle. He heard Connard yell out “Gun” and discharge two quick shot in the direction of the stopped blue vehicle. What was strange to him was Connards reaction immediately after firing the two shoots. Bishop saw Connard stumble and fall back like he had been struck in the chest. It was so drastic and obvious to Bishop, he at first had thought Connard had been shot in the chest himself. Shaking himself the Acting chief regained composure and continued to approach the vehicle looking pale under the street lights.
CHAPTER 42
THE RAVEN’S GLASS PUB
Bishop and Warren were sitting in a booth and waved North over to their table when they spotted him enter the Pub from the parking lot. “You know,” North remarked as he slid across from the two men, “I don’t like to come here. That rule about leaving my phone in a locker is bullshit. But you said you were going to explain some of this mess to me, so here I am.”
“Well, ‘explain’ might be a little generous,” Warren noted, taking a sip of coffee. “Whether or not you choose to believe what I’m gonna tell you is up to you.” With that, he recounted Jennifer’s story—the box, the book, the mojo hand, Granny’s research—and leaned back expectantly.
North snorted. “So this—” he waved his hands as if to refer to the past several weeks’ discoveries “—is all due to the magical actions of a 14-year-old?”
“Actually, your victims brought it on themselves,” Warren said pointedly. “If they hadn’t done bad things to begin with, then bad things wouldn’t have happened to them.”
“You know that’s not how it works,” North shot back, clearly impatient. “Come on. There’s investigations and the courts and other factors.”
“So, the magical 14-year-old seems to have skipped over your guys and the courts. Or perhaps she decided to take her case to a higher court,” Warren suggested without even a tinge of sarcasm.
Bishop chimed in, “Lieutenant, you were the one who asked me to consider the weirdness of your case. What did the Reverend and his minion say when you interviewed them after Connard shot Bill Carson?”
North eyed Warren. “You listen to me. This is off the record. I’d better not hear about it on the radio or on some website someplace.”
Warren held up both hands. “Understood. Not a problem.”
“King was really torn up when we told him Bill had been killed. He took it personally, like the whole thing was his fault. He said he was trying to stop more murders at Bill’s doing, but that they weren’t caused by Bill at all. King’s plan was to drive a demon from him. He said it had infected his body. It seems Mr. Norton and Carson went to school together a long time ago. Apparently, Mr. Norton had a bit of a demon problem himself back then. Reverend King actually ran the Devil out of him during a church service in Tennessee. Seems Bill was there attending church at the time, and there was a problem with a copperhead biting him and disrupting the service. Some sort of “wall of faith” he called it that was supposed to protect others from the alleged demon was compromised. This allowed it to jump from Norton to Bill and Bill ended up snake bit. King ran the thing out of Bill before it could take hold. Reverend King thinks that’s what made Bill an easy target for this thing.”
“How does Reverend King know so much about this stuff?” Bishop asked.
“From talking to both of them, I gathered that, besides preaching, King and Norton consider themselves devil hunters of some sort. I’m not sure how they thought they’d tracked this thing to Asheville and Bill, though. Sounds like they were going to fix Bill, but that plan went south when Connard shot him. King said this particular hunt had been going differently anyway. The killings weren’t what he expected. He said it was like this thing was punishing people for their wrongdoings.” North raked a hand through his hair. “King called it ‘evil canceling out evil’ or some such. Which may be why the DA thought it’d be a bad idea to put King and Norton in court. His exact words were, ‘Tall tales don’t make good trials.’ He thinks both guys are crazy, and we wouldn’t get a conviction anyway.” He turned toward Bishop. “So that’s the story. Did you find what the girl buried that supposedly started all this?”
Warren piped up, “The next day, after I heard on the news that your guy had apparently shot Satan or at least one of his employees in the head, I went to the Township Tree to look for it. Found a hole under the oak, but nothing in it.”
“You think an animal could’ve dug the thing up?” North asked.
“That’s what we think,” Bishop agreed. “Granny seems to think the deaths are over now.”
“What about Jennifer?”
“Her aunt and uncle are working with counselors and the school to help her with whatever she needs.”
“That’s good,” North said. “If she starts thinking she created this mess—and she didn’t—she doesn’t need the guilt, you know?”
Warren and Bishop both nodded in unison, and Warren added, “But what about the shooting? Connard shot an unarmed man in the head… that can’t be good.”
“Connard saw him moving and assumed he was reaching for something. He thought he saw Bill grab some sort of black object, and he mistook it for a gun. That’s why he shot.”
“And what was Bill going for?” Warren asked.
“A kubatan.”
“A what?”
North yanked a pen from his shirt pocket and began scribbling on a napkin. “A short black rod, maybe 5.5 inches long.” He tapped the diagram. “Like this. It’s used as a martial arts weapon, mostly to jab pressure points on an attacker. I guess Connard could’ve mistaken it for a pistol if he saw it in bad lighting along with the cell phone. But that’ll be up to the court to decide, really.”
“Now I have a question for you two. If, and I mean a super big if…. Carson had a demon inside of him making him do all of these things, where did it go when Carson was shot?”
Warren and Bishop looked at each other. Bishop saying, “If it’s true, your guess is as good as anyone’s. Back to Hell maybe, perhaps to a new host?”
North shook his head saying “wonderful. Bishop why do these weird cases happen when your connected to them?”
Warren smiled at the Lieutenant “I have some thoughts on that.”
Bishop grinned and stood up “keep your opinions to yourself Warren.”
Warren laughed and stood up himself.
Satisfied with the impromptu review with North and his explanations, North’s colleagues each excused themselves and headed
out into the evening, saying they’d all catch up later. He decided to hang back and grab a drink to give himself some time to mull things over. As he settled into his seat at the bar with a gin and tonic, he pulled two objects from inside his jacket: a small glass vial with several small black flakes inside, and an old coin. Both had been gifted to him by Reverend King. He’d said he wanted to pass the objects on to someone he thought could make use of them and explained their significance. They were in the package that King was going to the Post Office to mail to North before leaving town but never got that far. North had taken the coin to Wright’s Coin Shop in Asheville, where the appraiser said the coin was an authentic widow’s mite as illustrated in the Bible parable.
He hadn’t bothered pursuing more information about the glass vial; he figured there’d be no way to verify its contents. He peered at the items again now, hoping the buzz of alcohol might bring some grand revelation, but there was none to be had. There were still some pieces to be put together in this strange case, he knew that much.
CHAPTER 43
MONDAY MORNING, ASHEVILLE POLICE DEPARTMENT
“You know what they say. In order for one to succeed, another must fail.”
Mr. Scratch: The Devil and Daniel Webster
Acting Police Chief Connard took a call from the city manager as he parked his car in front of the station. “Yes, sir, what can I do for you?”
“How are you doing, Peter? I know you’ve gone to hell and back this past week.”
“Not too bad right now. I just pulled into the station. With the shooting investigation, you know, I’m on paid leave ‘til that’s over. So, I’m keeping my vehicle here until the District Attorney clears me and I can get back to regular work.”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. The chief isn’t going to be coming back. City Council wants to know if you’d be interested in the full-time police chief position after the investigation is over. Do you want the job?”
Connard looked out his windshield at several officers who had left the building to start their shifts. “Yes, sir, I would be honored.”
“Excellent! We’ll discuss the details when it’s appropriate, once you’re back to work. The City appreciates your dedication.”
Connard ended the call and pulled out a small red cloth bag from his car console. A throaty laugh filled the car, loud enough that the passing officers turned and gave Acting Chief Connard a curious look.
The soon to be new Asheville Police Chief thought he could hear a voice deep in his subconscious. “Well Peter, looks like we may have a good thing going here. If it’s alright with you I think, I’ll hang around for a while and we’ll see where it goes.”
Patrol Officer Chris Metcalf walked out of the side door of the Asheville Police Departments central office, down the stairs and towards his patrol vehicle with the intention of returning to his assigned West Asheville District on the other side of the French Broad River. Walking past the front of a parked unmarked police vehicle. a wall of chilly air struck him in the face like he had just entered a walk-in freezer. It reminded him of his encounter with the G*I*F*T* Girls in the Cemetery a few weeks ago.
He was quickly snapped out of the memory by sudden laughter coming from the inside of the parked car in front of him. Bending down to look inside the vehicle, he was surprised to see only one person in the front seat of the unmarked police car. The quick burst of laughter had sounded like it came from two distinct individuals not just the one he could see. A strangely grinning Peter Connard and no one else was all that was visible in the front of the vehicle. Metcalf thought the Acting Chief must be on a speaker phone, and continued to his own patrol vehicle, anxious to put distance between himself and the acting chief for some reason he could not describe.
EPILOGUE
Friday
The acting Chief hung up the telephone. He glared at the black communications device he had put down. At one time, he had enjoyed talking to the press and being on the news. Now it was a hassle. Asked stupid questions, questions he could not answer or put on the spot was aggravating. Cleared by the District Attorney for the shooting investigation. The case conducted by the State Bureau of Investigation. The investigation and review by the D.A’s Office taking less than 30 days. This quick of a turn around on an officer involved shooting in North Carolina was unheard of. Now it was over, in part, thanks to some political pull from City Hall. Next week he would be sworn in as the new City of Asheville Chief of Police. The quick investigation, had been the recent conversation he had with the local news media.
A double tap and rap on his office door redirected his attention, “come in.”
Sgt. Jimmy Blaylock stuck his head through the entrance asking, “you got a few minutes boss?”
“Sure, come in, what can I do for you.” Connard answered.
Sgt. Blaylock the investigator who worked the internal investigation unit. entered. Blaylock investigated misconduct by officers and provided findings to the chief and staff. Blaylock was also one of the police departments law enforcement instructors. Certified by the state to teach ethics and firearm qualification and updates. He took the pre-offered seat in front of the acting chief’s desk, obviously nervous about the meeting.
Connard repeated his previous comment, “what can I do for you Sgt.?”
Sitting tall in the black fake leather chair before the desk, Blaylock begun. “Sir, I’m attempting to locate two missing complaints of officer misconduct reports.”
“Missing, what do you mean missing?”
“I took a complaint report from a citizen. This was two days before the Chief collapsed and went to the hospital. I also took a second report on the day before she went to the hospital.”
“Okay, what happened to the reports?”
“I gave them both to the chief,” was the reply.
“You have access to copies, don’t you? You did put them in the system when you took the reports right?”
“Yes sir, but I gave the originals to the chief. Now I can’t find the digital copies in the system either.”
“That’s odd, who were the reports involving?”
Blaylock paused to stare at Connard. He was looking for some sort of tell or sign the acting Chief already knew what he was talking about. “You sir, the reports were about you.”
“That explains why the chief had called me to her office.” Pausing he continued, “Lord, you don’t think that was the stressor that caused her to have a heart attack, do you?” Looking concerned he continued. “She collapsed before she told me why she had called me in to her office.”
Surprised by the response and the clear attitude of concern. He was off guard by the unexpected response. “I don’t know sir.” He replied
As the temporary Acting Chief of Police, Connard had continued working out of his own office. Seeing an advantage in the conversation, he opened his right desk drawer removing a key from a blue dish kept there. He handed the key to Blaylock saying, “here’s the key to the Chief’s office, check and see if the reports are in there. If you don’t find the originals redo the reports as best, you can. Then I guess you open an investigation on me. I’ll make myself available for interviews any time you need me next week.”
Still off-guard Blaylock stood saying, “yes sir.”
Standing Connard added, “when you’re through in the Chief’s office give the key to the secretary. While I have you, I wanted to ask you, is that new officer ready to start field training on the road next week?”
Putting the key in a uniform shirt pocket. “Yes sir, we have all her paper work from state training and standards and her previous agency. She’s scheduled to start Monday morning on the road. I’m taking her to the range this weekend to qualify with an assigned duty weapon.”
“Very good, you’re going to qualify her Saturday?”
The Sergeant again off-guard by the conversations directional change. Blaylock told himself, Connard was the acting chief and manning was one aspect of his duties. He ans
wered, “no I could not get on any of the indoor firing ranges in the area Saturday. The Madison County Sheriff’s office is offering us the use of their outdoor range on Sunday. It will make for a late evening. It will mean night qualifying after dark. Like we used to do before we had access to light controlled indoor shooting ranges.”
“Excellent, our manning levels are becoming a critical issue right now. It helps when we hire someone experienced. Its faster than sending someone to rookie school and LEO basic training for 3 to 4 months. Keep me advised and let me know when you need me for an interview.” Connard causally offered.
“Yes sir.” Blaylock replied, turned and left the office.
The acting chief sat, his eyes coming to rest on the filing cabinet across the room. This where he had secured the original missing reports.
He had located the Police Chief’s password list taped to the bottom of her computer keyboard. Using her password, he was able to enter the complaint database. Deleting the reports would be a red flag. He edited them instead, changing file numbers and a few other identifiers. He was hiding the report amongst others. Impossible to pull up if you inquired looking for them. Like hiding a car in a parking lot full of cars.
This new situation needed fixed. This could have a major negative effect on his future. Connard needed to come up with a plan.
Sunday evening
Sgt. Blaylock had dismissed the new officer. They had completed the mandatory state required day and night firearms qualification course. With the sun down and alone at the range he had used the head lights of his vehicle to light the target line. He Completed the paperwork on the new officer. He was getting ready to do a quick practice shoot with his own duty weapon before leaving the range as was his habit.
Blaylock had left his cell phone on the hood of his car. He noticed the device ringing and vibrating across the gray car hood. Picking it up he looked at the screen and did not recognize the number. Tempted to ignore the call but on second thought answered. “Sgt. Blaylock, Asheville police.”
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