“Look at the date, Gabriel.” He showed me the front of the envelope. “Sent the same day as the blonde woman committed suicide.”
He shuffled through some papers on his desk and pulled out one. “She was found ten miles out of Richford.”
“So she was Sister Anna?” I asked.
“Possibly.”
Thomas copied all the documents including the letter. He then made some calls.
I tried to listen to him, but it was at that moment the strength I had no idea I’d managed to contain, left me. It was coming to an end, finally. The realization that my beautiful wife had been subjected to those horrors yet had gone on to be a caring and loving individual hit me. She was a true survivor. She hadn’t let her past destroy her. She hadn’t let the knowledge that she held inside affect her ability to love.
I stood from the chair and without a word walked from the station. I heard Thomas calling me, but my wife was calling me more.
I walked to the cemetery. I sat at her grave and I wept one last time. I let out the anguish and despair I felt. I lay down next to her, not caring to acknowledge the glances of passing mourners, which, thankfully, were few.
A shadow fell over me and I looked up to see my brother. He sat beside me and placed his hand on my head. He mumbled a prayer.
“I saw you come in, I was praying,” he said before I’d even asked how he knew I was there. I didn’t believe him.
“I know it all, Zachary. I know every sordid detail now.”
He nodded his head and I noticed the tears that formed in his eyes.
“And what will you do with that knowledge, Gabriel?” he asked.
“What my wife wanted. What should have been done in the very beginning. Those children need a voice, Zachary. They need their story to be told and they need justice.”
“Those children are dead, how will this help them now? So many people are going to be devastated.”
I blinked a few times, holding in my initial response.
“It will help stop this from ever happening again. They didn’t die in vain. So, what are the words, Zachary? Forgive me, Father, for I’m about to sin…”
I rose and without another word left him sitting on the grass on that bright summer’s day. His prayer of absolution followed me. His words floated through the air but they hit the brick wall I had erected around myself. A wall that would take forever to dismantle.
Thomas was outside his office, I saw him look first one way, then the other, along the street. I guessed he was looking for me.
“Gabe, I’ll take you back to the ranch now. We’re going to have visitors over the next few hours. The whole case has been reopened, and I’d really like to sit down with Taylor. She was the only witness that day. I need to know if there is anything else she can remember.”
I nodded. It wasn’t what I wanted, I didn’t want my child to relive that day, but it was important. I only hoped I’d be able to help her through it relatively unscathed, and if anyone had to talk to her, it had to be Thomas. Someone she loved.
I didn’t tell Thomas of my plan, not that I had a detailed one, of course. I wouldn’t put him in that position. He was a lawman through and through; it’s all he ever wanted to be. He’d ‘policed’ the schoolyard, he studied for one purpose only, to be the local sheriff. I’d have thought he might leave for the state police, but he wanted nothing more than to look after the people where he’d grown up, he’d often told me.
He dropped me off at the entrance to the ranch with a promise to return later.
Mom had erected an inflatable pool in the front yard. Taylor and a couple of dogs were busy splashing about. I chuckled slightly and mentally corrected myself, hounds. They were bloodhounds, and I wondered if their owners were happy they were cooling off in a child’s swimming pool.
“I’m learning to swim, Daddy,” she said when she saw me.
“So you are, baby girl. Mommy would be so proud.” I checked the level of water, pleased to see it just a few inches high.
I wanted to reintroduce Sierra into the conversation. It wasn’t that I refused to talk about her to Taylor, I’d been cautious of provoking a nightmare.
Taylor splashed, the dogs leapt about, bringing mud and grass into the pool, and I sat beside my mom and watched her.
“Thomas wants to talk to her,” I said.
“Is that wise?”
“Yes, we have more information, the case has been reopened, although I was led to believe it hadn’t actually closed.”
I sighed and rubbed my hand over my chin. The scratch of stubble reminded me that I needed to shave.
“When?”
“Later today, I guess.”
Mom sighed and took a deep breath. I looked at her. Something about her had changed; there was a sense of resignation about her. Her body had relaxed a little, she wasn’t held so stiff and tight. Like me, she could sense the end was close, I guessed.
“Gabriel, I’m worried about you. You’ve lost weight; you’ve got dark shadows under your eyes. You…You’ve changed, hardened. And before you say anything, you have good reason to. But you need to start taking care of yourself; otherwise you’ll be no good for your daughter. She needs you, when all this is done; she’s going to need you more. When she grows up and people start to talk, and she understands what they’re saying, you need to be here for her. She’s going to hear things that will upset her greatly.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” I said.
“Not physically, but mentally?”
I didn’t answer immediately. I leaned forward and placed my elbows on my knees, my head in my hands.
“If I’d have known; if Sierra had been honest from day one, if her killer had been caught…”
“That’s a lot of ‘ifs,’ none of which you can do anything about,” she said.
“When this is all over, I might take Taylor on a road trip, go see a little of the coast.”
She smiled at me, but I noticed that it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She patted my thigh and stood.
“Taylor, how about we get you out of that mud pit and you can help me in the garden? I think I’ll have you stand under the garden hose,” she said.
Taylor stood and the bottom half of her was covered in mud. I laughed, there was no making my baby girl in to a lady, no matter how much anyone tried, and I loved her more for that.
I sat for a moment and looked out to the woods, I could see men wandering in and out of the trees, hear the occasional howl as a dog picked up the scent of something. I was thankful to those people but wondered just how long we’d be doing that. How much longer would we be confined to the house?
My phone vibrated in my pocket, I pulled it out to see I’d received a text message. I swiped the screen to see one word, ‘Loft’ from an unknown number.
“Loft?” I repeated.
I stood and stepped down from the porch, I hesitated. I returned to the house and took the stairs two at a time to the bedroom I’d been sharing with Taylor. I reached under the cushion of the chair and pulled out the revolver Dad had given me. Without alerting Mom or Taylor, I made my way to the loft. I sent a text to Dad not for one minute believing he’d receive it. He was fixing fences, and I doubted he’d thought to keep his phone on him. I copied the text to Thomas.
Do not, I repeat, do not go there. On my way. Was Thomas’ reply.
Too late I typed.
I wasn’t waiting. I hoped I knew who had sent that text. I wanted to get to her before she ran again.
I was halfway up the stairs in the barn when Dad appeared. I placed my fingers to my lips and indicated with my hand he should stay where he was. I pointed to the gun tucked in the waistband of my jeans, at my back, and covered it with my t-shirt.
The loft door was ajar. It hadn’t been the last time we’d visited. My heart started to pound in my chest. I stood to one side and gently pushed it open. After a minute of hearing nothing, I stepped into the room. It was empty; it was as we’d left it. I looked around, not sure what I was s
earching for.
And then I heard a ringing. I followed the sound to the bed, lifted the mattress and saw a black cell. I shouldn’t have, but I picked it up. There was a missed call from an unknown number and a text message.
I need to see you. Flashed on the screen when I’d opened the text.
Lily? I replied.
I waited, hearing the footsteps of my father on the stairs, who clearly didn’t have the level of patience I’d hoped for. He strode across the room and I showed him the phone. For some reason, despite knowing she wasn’t in the loft, we didn’t speak but communicated with hand gestures. The phone beeped.
Yes
Come to me. I know it all now. I can help you. I have the statements. I typed.
I showed it to Dad, who nodded, and then I pressed send. We stood in silence for a few minutes; there was no reply.
“Well, I guess we’ve put the wheels in motion, now to prepare. Come with me, Son,” Dad said.
I followed him from the apartment, instead of heading to the house; he walked further into the barn. Toward the back were a couple of rooms, one used to house cattle feed, farm machinery, and the other was an office, neither had been used in years. It was the office door that Dad pushed open. A layer of dust covered every surface, and I stifled a cough as it was disturbed by our presence.
Dad walked to a cupboard, built in between the corner of the room. He opened the door and then crouched. I heard the scrape as he dragged a chest into the middle of the room.
From the level of dust covering the lid, it was clear that chest had not been opened in a long time; he wiped his arm across the top before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a bunch of keys. He unlocked it and before opening the lid, he looked up at me. There was something in his face that I hadn’t seen in many years. Excitement. His eyes held a sparkle, his lips curled into a smile but one of mischief, not happiness. He slowly opened the lid.
“What the fuck!” I said. “Are you kidding me?”
He chuckled gently as he lifted one of the smaller items.
“That is a fucking grenade!” I said.
“Your powers of observation astound me sometimes, Son,” he said.
“Why, what…?”
The chest resembled an army munitions store.
“So I fell for it, that millennium thing; thought I’d prepare.”
“You’re shitting me, right?”
“No, it was plausible. Computers go down, the world falls into chaos.”
“Jesus, Dad. How fucking stable is that lot? They look old.”
“They’ve sat here quite happily for sixteen years.”
I shook my head. “Put it down, Dad, you’ll fucking blow yourself up.”
“I spent three years fighting a war, Gabriel, I think I know how to handle these.”
“Dad, I don’t think we’re going to need to start shooting off bombs at people, okay?”
“You reckon? Son, sit down a minute.” He closed the lid of the chest and I sat beside him on the dusty floor.
“What do you think’s going to happen?” he asked.
“I’ll tell Lily I don’t have the statements, the police do. And if she goes to them, tells them what she knows, they’ll have to offer her some protection. Sister Anna says she can’t get further involved, maybe it’s all blown up beyond her expectations, but she’s fucked off. Thomas has the state and, I think, the FBI involved. Whatever I want, whatever justice I wanted to dish out, isn’t going to happen now. And let’s be fair, an abuser of children in prison is probably a far worse punishment than a bullet in the head.”
“Maybe he will go to prison, maybe not. Maybe at some point overnight they’ll come here. I want to be prepared.”
“Why is it always overnight?” I said with a chuckle, not that I found anything funny.
He raised his eyebrows at me. I stood, brushing the dust from my jeans. “You do what you’ve got to do, Dad. I appreciate your support,” I said, patting him on the shoulder.
I’d lied to my father. I’m sure I’d probably lied many times as a teenager. I had no doubt, like back then, he hadn’t believed me. Father Samuel would never make it to prison, I’d make sure of that.
Thomas arrived and looked about as good as I did.
“Beer?” I asked.
“No, official duty here. Tell me about the text,” he replied.
“Never stopped you before.”
“Never been in this position before. I’m not in control any more; I’m a mere servant of the Fuck-It-Up Bureau of Investigations. I don’t even have office space left.”
“So you called them in then?”
“I had to, this is beyond my capabilities and beyond the state’s. We have just too many factors to consider about who is actually involved in what. On one hand, we have the church, and on the other, we have the cult. They’re linked, for sure, but who killed Sierra, who killed those children, adults rather, I just don’t know anymore. But I have control over one thing. I persuaded them that I’d interview Taylor, and it had to be done here, in a place of comfort.”
“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
“As I said, she’s not classed as a credible witness but she’s a little older, she may have forgotten what she originally said, or she might be able to tell us more.”
I nodded. “One thing, if she gets overly upset, no more, okay?”
I’d deliberated over whether to subject my daughter to questioning, no matter how gentle Thomas would be. I’d thought of calling in the therapist to sit with her at the same time. But I’d pushed that thought from my mind because I didn’t want to make it formal in any way. I didn’t want for her to feel pressured to speak at all. Maybe I was about to do wrong, only time would tell.
“Now, stop delaying, what was that text about?” he asked.
I told him what I’d found and the messages that had been received and sent.
“Fuck’s sake, Gabe. I told you to wait for me. I need that phone.”
“Let’s deal with Taylor first,” I said. I then called for her.
I picked her up and sat her on my lap. “Baby girl, we need to talk about some things that might make you sad. We need to talk about Mommy. Do you think you can do that with Thomas?”
She nodded her head. Thomas laid his phone on the small table.
“You remember that you told me the brown-haired woman had visited Mommy and made her upset?” he asked. She nodded again.
“Did they shout, is that why Mommy was upset?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Did they hug?”
“Yes.”
“When the man came to the house, can you remember what color his clothes were?”
She shrugged her shoulders at first. “Were they like Daddy’s jeans?” I asked.
“No.”
“Were they like Daddy’s t-shirt?” Thomas asked. She looked at me, and then shook her head.
Thomas glanced at me. I wore a black t-shirt.
“Like your pants,” she whispered.
Thomas was wearing blue, a dark blue uniform.
“Are you sure, baby girl?” I asked. She nodded her head.
“Did he have a blue shirt on, Princess? One like mine?” Thomas asked.
At her nickname, the one Thomas used often; she smiled. She nodded again.
“Did he have one of these?” he asked. At that point my heart started to hammer in my chest. He’d pointed to his badge, pinned to his chest.
She reached out and ran her fingers over it. “Not on his heart, but he had one,” she said.
I looked over her head at Thomas.
“What color was his hair?” Thomas asked.
Again, she shrugged her shoulders. “Can we see Lily today?” she asked, looking at me.
“Lily?”
“The foal, can we see the foal today?” Despite the question and the slight bounce of excitement on my lap, her eyes had begun to fill with tears.
“Absolutely. How about you gr
ab something to eat with Grandma, and when you’re done, we’ll take a walk,” I said. She climbed from my lap.
“Fuck!” I said once she was out of earshot. “All this time I thought it was a priest, because of the clothing.”
He picked up his phone and fiddled with it. “I recorded what she said, I take it I have your permission for that?”
I nodded. “It answers why he was able to just walk into my house. Sierra would never have a doubt about inviting a cop in.”
“I feel like we’re back to the beginning, which I guess isn’t a bad idea. But I’m totally out of my depth here,” he said.
“We all are, Thomas, we all are.”
“So, the phone,” he held out his hand. “I have to take it in.”
I stared at him. “Unless you tell me there is no phone, of course, and it was all a mistake.”
“It was all a mistake,” I said.
“Fair enough. I have to get back in town, but I’ll be back later, okay?”
He stood and with just a sigh and nod of his head, he made his way over to his car and left. I watched his tires kick up dust and stones as he drove down the drive.
I sat and Dad joined me. We just waited, without having any idea how they’d come, who would come, only knowing that someone would.
The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Taylor and I took a walk; the warm steel of the revolver against my skin gave a little comfort. My nerves were jangling; waiting wasn’t something I was particularly good at. Taylor chatted, but it was clear she was on edge. I hoped my anxiety wasn’t transferring to her.
It was hard to concentrate on her chatter while constantly scanning for movement. Dad’s friends had set up a rotation to patrol the perimeter, but I wasn’t sure how long they’d be willing to do that. It was taking them away from their daily lives, their families, and jobs.
I started to become frustrated. When all you can do is wait, time ticks by slower than ever.
Taylor and I arrived back at the house, as we walked in I could hear the sound of a hammer, then a drill. I followed the noise upstairs, while Taylor grumbled to Mom about being bored.
Dad was fixing some locks to the inside of Taylor’s bedroom door.
Gabriel: A thriller (Standalone within the Divinus Pueri series) Page 17