by Gregory Kay
“No, of course not; go ahead. It may be important.”
She did, and after saying “hello” and listening for a moment, she thanked the caller and hung up.
“They’ve finished with my Jag; I need to go pick it up.”
Fiona had never seen an expression like the one that ran across Luke’s face when he realized exactly what that meant; it was pure pain, a shadow of a storm cloud on rippling water in the wind. It was there and gone in an instant, and he forced it away with a smile that looked more like it belonged on a corpse than on a living human being.
“Then...I guess we’d better go get it.”
“Let’s finish eating first.”
“Okay.”
Their mutual fantasy shattered and the atmosphere abruptly turned into a death watch. As Fiona watched him trying to put the best face on it he could, she felt terrible, worse even than Luke. The end of what they had together, the best thing she’d ever had, was in sight, and that hurt her as badly as it did him, but her own agony was worse because she knew she was ripping his heart right out of him, just as surely as if she was cutting it out with a steak knife, a serrated edge ripping and tearing as it went.
A single tear gathered in the corner of her right eye and slipped down her cheek, only to be halted by Luke, who reached out and caught it on the tip of his finger before bringing it to his lips and kissing it.
“We’ll work this out, someway. I don’t know how, but we will. I will not lose you, not matter what it takes.” His words may have been full of confidence, but his tone was utterly empty of it.
“Are you sure you’ll be okay?”
By an explosive combination of instinct and bad mood, Fiona felt the old peevishness rising up in her once more, before she saw the expression of concern in Luke’s eyes for what it was as he leaned with both hands on the ledge of her open car window, and she realized it was not a question of her abilities, but just the worry natural to somebody who worried because they really cared, somebody who really loved her...
No! Won’t go there! I can’t believe we both said it this morning, already, and especially when we know...
The very real question of it working or not didn’t prevent her from laying a hand tenderly over his.
“I’ll be fine; I just need to test drive my car, and see if they fixed it right.” Seeing his mouth start to open, she cut him off with, “And yes, I’ll stay away from the TNT; I know it could be dangerous there, so I’m not going anywhere near it. Promise. But otherwise, Cliff is in the hospital, and the guy, or at least one of the guys, who was watching me is...well, someone did something to him. Anyway, everyone else around here seems to think birds of paradise fly out of my ass, so I don’t believe I’ll have any problems.” She patted the steering wheel. “I think I’ll go run it out...oh, what is that route going across the Ohio?”
“Route 35.”
“Yeah, 35. It’s a four-lane, so I’ll take it out for a run on there, then come back to the library to do a little more research. I’ll meet you there in an hour or so, okay?”
The worried look didn’t leave, but Luke said, “Okay,” before kissing her, warning her that the weather report was calling for rain, telling her to be careful, and not letting her go until she promised again to do just that.
Glancing at him her rear view mirror as she pulled out of the lot, Fiona saw him wave once before turning away and heading for his car. No doubt he’d be heading to the courthouse to fill out paperwork or give depositions or whatever the hell cops did when something like this happens.
I wonder how often that does happen; a cop beating a man nearly to death for trying to rape his girlfriend?
Not that she minded that, of course; that smarmy son of a bitch Cliff had it coming. Her dad had said so earlier, when she called her family from the privacy of Luke’s bathroom to tell them the news. She would have much preferred to keep it to herself, but since her mother had proven to be an absolute fiend for that dangerous combination of the Internet and worry, she’d had no choice. After she’d called that first day to ream her a new one over not being told about the car accident, Fiona knew she was accessing Point Pleasant’s local paper, keeping tabs on her little girl. God only knew how last night’s craziness would end up being written up, let alone what would be said about it on the local gossip board. She knew she’d never hear the end of it if they read about it before she told them, especially her dad, to whom her mother made her tell the story again, after she had already told it to her twice. By the time that was over, she reflected that she was glad her father was back up in New York, because she had no question in her mind but that he would have personally gone down to the jail and beaten Cliff to death in his hospital bed. Still, he was somewhat mollified by the fact that Luke had pretty much pounded her attacker’s face in, bada-bing, bada-BOOM.
“With a blackjack, you said? They must be old school down there! Good job; damned good job! You tell this Luke from me to come on up to New York first time he gets a chance, and I’ll buy him all the beer he can drink! Anyone who takes up for my little girl like that is a stand-up guy! He’s got friends in the NYPD; you tell him I said that.”
Fiona promised she would, but she still had to smile, thinking of Officer Pelligatti’s reaction if he found that, on only a few day’s acquaintance, ‘this Luke’ who had made her fall completely in love with him was also a lie-down guy, who had done things to his little girl she had never even imagined...not that she hadn’t enjoyed every second of it, of course.
Her face fell; not every second. Not the parts where the cold nose of reality kept insistently sticking through the door, reminding her of just how impossible the whole thing was.
Despite the rather cool temperature, she dropped the Jag's convertible top, and, after remembering to turn on her radar detector, she hit the Silver Memorial Bridge across the Ohio and opened it up, letting the autumn wind blow the gloomy thoughts out of her head. Like Luke had told her, over and over, today, just today...
And today, it feels good to be alive!
“Close the door, Luke, and have a seat.”
Luke had expected the Sheriff’s tone to be one of two things: either ice cold or red hot, both because of him. God knew he’d given Pete more than enough reason enough to be pissed off over the last twenty-four hours. He had resigned himself to sitting and taking it, just to keep peace on his job by letting his boss work his anger out by blowing off steam. When he spoke this time, however, it was unexpected; the voice was tired and worried.
“The hospital called; they expect Ashley to spend at least another day in there, maybe two before being released to the regional jail. The damage was pretty extensive.”
Luke nodded silently. There was no point in saying he was sorry, because he wasn’t and both men knew it. As far as Clifford Ashley was concerned, he wouldn’t have been sorry if it had been the undertaker on the line instead of the doctor.
“His attorney flew in this morning, already pitching a bitch about ‘police brutality,’ but that won’t fly, not down here, anyway, especially when you have two witnesses on your side, so I don’t think you have much to worry about. A lawsuit, however, might be a different thing. His lawyer has already spoken to the Prosecutor, who tells me he strongly suspects the subject of a plea-bargain will eventually come up. He assured me that any such bargain his office accepts will include an agreement on Ashley’s part not to sue and at least a few years prison time on felony charges. It won’t be ten to twenty, but he won’t walk scot-free either.
“I need you to...I’m asking you to get your head around that now, and not to rock the boat. I know what happened was justified, but the county doesn’t need to the expense of an all-or-nothing fight.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Just looking at that son of a bitch, I’d say he’s been punished quite a bit already, wouldn’t you?”
Luke wasn’t thrilled with the idea, and, while it clearly showed in his face, it didn’t reach his voice. He was a career cop after all, and was enough of a realist to know how t
hings worked in the legal system. He was also smart enough to know when he was being offered an olive branch.
“Okay, Pete; I won’t cause any problems...any more problems.”
It was all the Sheriff could do not to openly sigh with relief.
“I’m really glad to hear that.”
“Look,” Luke said, “about yesterday...”
Pete’s voice trailed off as he waved away the deputy’s apology.
“Forget about that; you might have been out of line, but I’m the one who was in the wrong. That’s what I really wanted to talk with you about, even more than the Ashley thing.
“I called the Columbus PD; there is no Officer Slaven working there, and there is no record of a car of that make and model being stopped in the past week, with plates or without. Whoever called was not a police officer.
“Then I contacted all four missing kids’ parents, and they allowed me to see their cell phone records on their computer billing account; none of them have made any calls, and every attempt to call any of them results in an out-of-service message. We’ve even checked their Facebook and Myspace pages: nothing. Two of them had debit cards and one had a credit card whose accounts their parents had access to. Same thing: no one has charged a thing on them. Their bank accounts haven’t been touched either, and nothing is missing out of their houses except the clothes they were wearing the night they vanished.”
Luke went cold all over.
“They’re not runaways, then.”
Pete shook his head.
“No. They’ve been taken by someone.” He paused. “Even with all these strange things being seen around here, it has to be someone, not something, because their van is gone too, and last time I checked, Mothman didn’t have a driver’s license.”
“So you’ve turned it over to the State Police as a kidnapping?”
“No.”
“What!”
Luke was halfway out of his chair when Pete told him, “I turned it over to Harry.”
“I don’t understand,” the deputy told him, his confusion plain as he resumed his seat, “Last time I checked, Harry was a State Trooper.”
“Yes and no.” Pete leaned over the desk, looking him directly in the eyes. “There’s more going on here than you know. Remember those samples you two took from the dead cow and the bulldog? Well, Harry carried those, along with the blood samples from that igloo, to the Charleston crime lab personally. So, when he calls to check on their status, guess what? He finds out that they don’t exist, and there is no record of him ever bringing them there in the first place.”
Ignoring his underling’s profane outburst, Pete continued, “Immediately following that, he receives a call from his commander, ordering him to immediately shred and dispose his signed receipts for the material, any and all reports pertaining to it, and to shut the hell up about it.” He paused again, hesitating as to whether or not to risk saying the rest. “Another trooper who was there that day told Harry some people from Homeland Security came in with some paperwork for the commander and left with the evidence.
“You were right, Luke, about this whole thing, and I’ll bet you a dollar to a stale doughnut this is directly related to everything else going on here, including the disappearance of those four kids, as well as that piece of shit who was stalking Ms. Pelligatti and got taken down outside the hotel.”
“What do you think their agenda is?”
Pete shook his head.
“Beats the shit out of me! My best guess is that they’re here for the same reason your girlfriend is; they’re chasing Mothman and this other weird crap, only, unlike her, they don’t want anybody to know about it.
“Now that I think of it, I remember people talking about how a bunch of strangers showed up the first time it happened too, back in the sixties, and tried to intimidate people into shutting up: men in black, just like the stalker and his buddy.”
“There’s a big difference between intimidating people and making them disappear,” Luke said quietly, and Pete nodded.
“Yes, there is, and, Feds or not, they crossed the line when they did that in my county. I can’t say I’m sorry those little devil-worshiping shits are gone, but I can’t stand by and just let the whole thing go; I owe the people who elected me to protect them. You made me remember that after what you said yesterday, and I appreciate that.”
“You’re welcome. Now, what are we going to do about it?”
“We aren’t going to do anything. Ah! Hear me out!” His upraised hand arrested the motion of his deputy’s opening mouth. “I’ve spoken to Harry, and he and I are going to investigate this thing ourselves until we get to the bottom of it. They won’t expect it from us, but they’re watching your every move; you know that by now. What I need you and Ms. Pelligatti to do is to stay in and around town in plain sight and keep doing what you’re doing; research and ask questions like a son of a bitch. I want their attention to stay focused on you, in order to give us a chance to operate quietly, behind the scenes, until we can gather enough evidence to put a stop to this thing.”
Luke had to admit that made a certain amount of sense, but he also saw the obvious flaw in the plan.
“How can you do that when the evidence keeps disappearing?”
Pete smiled and held up a manila folder.
“Not all of it. You’re buddy Harry is too much like you, about as independent as a hog on ice. You surely didn’t think he’d really shred all his reports and receipts just because his boss ordered him to, did you? Especially not when the people he’s sworn to protect are in danger.”
Tapping the folder up and down on the desk a couple of times, he pursed his lips.
“I can’t promise we’ll ever be able to make enough of a case against these people to bring charges, whoever they are, but we might be able to accumulate sufficient evidence to cause an embarrassing enough incident to make them get the hell out of here and leave our people alone.”
“That would be a good start, at least,” Luke agreed. “So, what if I run into either of those two fake game wardens from the TNT?”
“If the reporter is with you, you’re to do absolutely nothing except call it in; is that clear?” He sat there, waiting until he saw the reluctant nod of agreement. “We can’t risk her. I know for a fact you don’t want to risk her – you’re looking better than I’ve seen you in years, ever since she came down here – but this is bigger than that. I intend to use her to get the story out when it comes; this will be her story, and The Arrow can blast it out all over the country, instead of just the local paper. They might be able to intimidate most of the people around here, but it’s a little different nation-wide.”
“Fiona would like that,” Luke told him, although he hated the thought.
Giving her the story means her going back to New York for certain, and one that big will probably mean a promotion, meaning she’ll stay there for good.
He realized his boss was speaking again.
“Harry and I will be handling this thing personally and secretly. What I need from you is just to keep both of you safe, keep your eyes open, and report anything you find out to us. You’ll still be investigating, but it will be in the course of finding the story she’s looking for, so you’ll be the one doing it in plain sight.
“I don’t have to tell you how important it is we get this situation under control ASAP. Dead dogs and cattle and flying monster reports aren’t that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but people disappearing are. At the moment, the only ones that’s happened to may not be missed very much, but if we let them get by with that, it’s just a matter of time until it happens to somebody who will.
CHAPTER 25
As Fiona pulled into the library parking lot, it suddenly dawned on her as to why Luke was, by far, the best lover she had ever had.
Her first time was with her boyfriend Tony, a big Italian kid back when she was a junior in high school in the old neighborhood, the one her dad had caught her with. It was okay, but h
e’d had little more experience than she’d had herself, and basically didn’t have a clue about what he was doing other than Part A goes into Part B, then repeat.
Fiona’s second lover had been Mark, a classmate from college with whom she’d had a semester-long fling. Mark was old money, and basically a selfish, spoiled brat, not to put too fine a point on it. He was a master manipulator, though, and it took her awhile to understand that he always gave the minimum required to get the maximum of what he wanted.
Then there was Cliff The Son Of A Bitch. It pained her to admit it, but he had been very good in bed, and, to be brutally honest, was probably more technically proficient at sex than Luke – no wonder, considering how much practice he’s had! – but now that she’d had an epiphany, she finally understood just why she’d always had a niggling feeling that there seemed to be something lacking. Cliff was old money too, just as selfish in his own way as Mark had been, and probably more so; she could see that now. What was lacking was emotional content on his part. He’d made her climax, not for her benefit, but for his, because it gave him a sense of accomplishment and made him feel good about himself! Every time she came, it was just another notch on his dick.
The whole time, from their first meeting to his attempted rape, it’s been all about him!
That brought her to Luke. She didn’t know how, but she simply knew it was so good with him because it wasn’t all about him...or maybe it was, but in a very different way. Fiona sensed that Luke actually enjoyed making her happy, that he got as much real pleasure from giving pleasure to her as he did from getting it himself...because, in his mind, it’s all about me.
Because he really cares...because he loves me.
He had proven that this morning. Luke was not stupid; she knew he had to realize that all he’d had to do was pretend to be asleep, not wake her up, let the deadline for her report pass, and she wouldn’t have had a job to go back to, giving him a real chance of talking her into staying by taking away her excuse to go. But he hadn’t done that, after they made love this morning and she was lying there in his arms basking in the afterglow, she’d asked why and he’d been honest with her.