Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2)

by T Patrick Phelps

  The compassion she was being shown, coupled with the utter feeling of helplessness, was almost too much for her to handle. As she tried to stand to get out of her car, Maggie's legs gave way. She would have fallen to the ground if not for the swift reaction of Derek. He pulled her to her feet, cradled her in his arms, and practically carried her to his waiting car.

  "Did you call the police?" Derek asked once all three were seated in his car.

  "They can't do anything," she said. "Since Robby is his son, the police don't consider this a kidnapping."

  "Did you say anything to them about Ron's murder?" John asked from the back seat of Derek's rented sedan.

  "No," Maggie said, sighing deeply as she tried to collect herself. "I was more focused on trying to convince them to do something about my son being kidnapped."

  "Did the police say that they would do anything about Robby?" Derek asked.

  "They told me that they would put a bulletin out to their officers to keep an eye out for Jack's truck."

  "I know you don't want to hear this, Maggie, but finding Robby is up to us."

  "I know," she said.

  "If Jack did kill Ron, he's probably feeling desperate since you basically accused him of it. As you know, desperate men do desperate things. I need you to steel yourself and call up all the strength that I know you have. I'm going to ask you to do things that you won't agree with and probably won't understand. Trust me. We will get your son back, but we have to be smart, calculated, and patient. You good?"

  Maggie stiffened her spine, wiped away the tears from her cheeks, pulled her face into a grimaced smile and replied, "Where do we start?"

  "Father," Derek began immediately, "I need you to take Maggie's keys, get in her car, and follow me to her house. I want you to stop about a quarter of mile away from her house and wait until I call you and tell you to drive the rest of the way. Understood?"

  John took the keys from Derek and was soon sitting in Maggie's car. He pulled out and followed Derek towards Maggie's house. When he felt he was getting close, John pulled off to the side of the road and waited for Derek's call.

  "What does Jack's truck look like?" Derek asked Maggie who had moved to the backseat and was crouching down per Derek's instructions.

  "It's a 2011 Ford F150. Dark blue, four doors, and has a chrome tool box in the bed."

  "Good. Now keep your head down."

  Derek drove past Maggie's house a few miles faster than what the posted speed limit signs commanded. Seeing no sign of Jack's truck or anything that gave him concern, he pulled over to the side of the road and called John.

  "Okay, drive up to Maggie's house, pull into the driveway, but don't shut the car off or get out of the car till I pull in behind you. Okay?"

  "I'm two minutes away."

  John pulled the car into the driveway, kept the car running, and the door shut. He felt a sense of intense nervousness as he waited for what seemed like 20 minutes until Derek pulled into the driveway behind him.

  John shut off the car, pocketed the keys, then made his way to Derek's backseat.

  As soon as John was seated, Derek put his car into reverse, pulled out of the driveway and drove his car a few hundred yards down the road before pulling off to the side of the road.

  "Wait here," he said as he climbed out of his car. "Father, I need you to get into the front seat. If you see Jack's truck drive by, drive the car to the nearest gas station and wait until I call you. Understood?"

  "What are you going to do?" Maggie asked.

  "Just want to set up a few things around your house. Shouldn't take me more than 15 minutes. Remember, if you see Jack's truck, calmly pull the car onto the road and drive to the nearest gas station. And Maggie, keep out of sight."

  True to his word, Derek was back at the car 15 minutes after he left. John returned to the passenger's side as Derek, after reminding Maggie to stay hidden, pulled the car onto the road and headed towards St. Mark's. After ten minutes, Derek told Maggie it was safe for her to sit upright.

  "What did you set up at my house?" she asked.

  "Just a few tricks I've learned over the years to tell if someone makes entry to a structure."

  "Did you look inside? Was Robby there?"

  "Took a quick peak. Nothing important to see except that I noticed you didn't do the breakfast dishes, yet."

  "Thanks for noticing."

  The three sat in silence for the 10-minute ride to St. Mark's. Maggie spent the time fighting off tears and constantly checking that her phone had a strong signal. John sat in quiet reflection, dividing his thoughts between the mystery of Phillip, the murder of Ron White, and his intense worry for Robby. Derek forced himself to keep focused on resolving the most pressing concern: getting Robby back safely.

  He knew that if Jack was responsible for Ron's death, it was likely that he would use Robby as a shield, placing him in a position for both emotional and physical pain. He also feared that if Jack began to think that authorities were closing in on him, that he could snap under the pressure and do something to himself or to Robby from which Maggie would never recover.

  When they arrived at the rectory, John invited Derek and Maggie to make themselves comfortable in his private den.

  "I just need to check my voice messages and emails. Feel free to help yourself to whatever you need in the kitchen or in that little cupboard there in the corner. And if you do help yourself to the contents contained in that cupboard, know that I prefer my martinis very dry."

  When Derek and Maggie were alone, and after Derek poured Maggie a strong vodka and cranberry, he sat next to her on the couch. The moment he placed his arm around her shoulders was the same moment that the coming storm of emotion burst open. Maggie cried the restricted tears of her past 15 years. As he held her trembling body, Derek listened as Maggie spoke about everything that she had denied or ignored about her husband.

  She spoke of how painful it was when she learned of his unfaithfulness and how Jack's response to her suggestive accusations, scared her.

  "He never hit me, but I saw something in his eyes that day. Like he turned into a monster. Then, as soon as it started, it was over, and he was back to his normal self."

  "Maggie," Jack said, "I know this is hard to do, but I need you to not jump to any conclusions yet. Yes, Jack may have some psychological disorder and, yes, he may have killed his father and quite possibly Ron White as well, but we don't know anything for sure yet. And we don't know why he took Robby from school or what he thinks having him will do for him."

  "Can you speak to the police and get them to do something?" she pleaded.

  "I don't think that would be a good idea at this point. If Jack is responsible for Ron's murder, and if the police make it public that they are searching for him, there's no telling what could happen."

  "I'm afraid it's too late for that." John had walked into the room without Maggie or Derek noticing. He walked over to the small TV positioned in the corner of the den, turned it on, and using the remote control, changed the channel to the local news station.

  "Again, if you're just joining us," the straight-faced anchorman said, "State Police are looking for a local resident named 'Jack Bryant,' who police say is a person of interest in the Ron White murder. Captain Ted Olasnksi of the Maine State Police would not confirm the story that Jack Bryant had removed his son from school early today, according to some eye witnesses at the school Jack Bryant's son attends. In other news...."

  "Maggie,' Derek said after John turned the TV off, "we need to get you to the police station. Right now."

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  There were too many questions left hanging in the air for Derek. What started off as a case accepted out of a sense of obligation had morphed into a bizarre blend of murder, paranormal encounters, and kidnapping, mixed together with his unwanted but undeniable feelings for Maggie. Derek, for the first time in his freelance career, didn't know what to do.

  After John brought Maggie to the nearest Sta
te Police Troop headquarters, Derek returned to his hotel room. As he sat on his bed, holding the notebook that Ron White wanted only Derek to see, Derek began tracing the scar on his cheek while desperately seeking divine assistance.

  "Lucy," he said, "I don't know if you can hear me, and I don't know if you can help me, but if you could put a word into the big guy's ear, I would really appreciate it."

  Derek had no sooner reopened his eyes before his iPhone vibrated.

  "Ralph," Derek said, "you may just be an answer to my prayer."

  "Now I must say that I have never heard that before, but before I take it as a compliment, I should ask what you were praying for. If you tell me that you was praying to talk to a moron, then I won't feel at all complimented."

  "For help, Ralph," Derek said. "I was praying for help."

  "Based on what I am hearing from my channels of intel, you need more help than you are probably aware of."

  "I take it you heard that Jack Bryant is wanted for the murder of Ron White, and that he kidnapped his son?"

  "That and a whole lot more. I hope you is sitting down because this is gonna make your head spin around a few times like that girl in that Exorcist movie."

  "I'm sitting," Derek said. The split moment between telling Ralph he was ready to hear what information he had and when Ralph starting to talk, was filled with a thousand fears. He feared that Ralph would tell him that Maggie Bryant was complicit in something highly illegal, or that it was Maggie who had somehow masterminded the murder of Ron White and the abduction of her own son. He cringed at the possibility that Jack Bryant was even more dangerous than he had grown to believe. He felt immediate despair when he thought that Jack had already killed Robby and wondered how he could possibly console Maggie.

  "Let me start with the simple stuff," Ralph said, his voice cool and low. "Ron White, as you know, is from Canada. Though he lives in Quebec and has lived there for the past 20 or so years, he was born and raised outside of Toronto. His job when he lived in Toronto was a freelance investigative reporter. Now, truth be told, I ain't all that sure that he used the term 'freelance' on his business card, but I figured you'd like to hear that term associated with him. Anyway, he worked on his own and did pretty well, based on the financial records I was privy to. Then back in 1972, he was invited to report on some psychological experiment."

  "The Phillip Experiment?"

  "Well, I am impressed with you, Derek Cole. Anyway, something happened to dear departed Ron White after that reporting job, because he went dark for plenty of years after. He turned up again outside of Quebec City, working for an English language based newspaper. He covered general stories, nothing remarkable. But he was known to be an amateur ghost hunter around those parts and even published a book about paranormal occurrences and what not.

  "Ron had a stroke back in September of last year that left him a bit hobbled. For whatever reason, he chose to pay for his own rehab in the nursing home in Maine, that you are familiar with. Now, I told you two things that are important for you to recall. Number one, I mentioned to you the other day that I was not the only person digging into Jack Bryant's past. Number two, I told you just a minute or two ago that Ron White was an investigative reporter. Now, let's see you put those two gems together."

  Derek spoke immediately. "Ron was digging into Jack Bryant's past and may have uncovered something that Jack Bryant didn't want uncovered. So, to silence him, Jack killed him."

  "That's why the police are considering Jack Bryant a person of interest in the case. They found a whole bunch of interview and research notes on Ron's computer that he had in the nursing home. Ron interviewed a whole mess of people and was ready to blast out an article that proved Jack Bryant not only killed his own daddy, whom you and I refer to as 'grandpa' if you recall, but that Jack Bryant may have also killed two other people close to the case. The most recent victim was a Henry Turck, who was a retired detective who worked on the Bryant murder case back in 1994. Turck's family chose to keep his possible murder quiet. Seems Henry was killed by falling down a flight of stairs. Problem was, toxicology reports showed that tumbling Henry was juiced up with so many sedatives that they find it highly unlikely that he would have been able to walk, let alone trying to make his way down a flight of stairs.

  "No one knows what the article said precisely because the article was not on the computer, just interview notes and a few very rough drafts. Police are thinking that Jack Bryant may have found the article and taken it with him so that it never saw the black ink of a newspaper printer."

  "Did you find anything out about Maggie Bryant, Jack's wife?" Derek asked.

  "Not sure why you'd ask about her, but she's a clean as a red-haired, Irish girl's whistle."

  "Good to hear, but that analogy makes no sense," Derek said, fully relieved.

  "Then I am safe to assume that you've never been to Ireland."

  "True. But, still, doesn't make sense," Derek quipped. "Anything else?"

  "Police have a very bad feeling about what Jack may do with his son."

  "I'm worried about the same thing."

  "That you may, but you don't know why the police are so worried."

  "What did he do?"

  "Now this hasn't been made public yet but it's about to. Old Jack Bryant didn't just kidnap his son Robby, but it looks like he took another young boy, named Matthew Jones, from up in Portland as well. Busted up this kid's mother pretty bad in the process, or at least the police believe it was him. Ain't got enough evidence to confirm what I am about to say, but I have to believe that the woman he busted up is Jack Bryant's mistress and the boy he abducted is his other son."

  "Son of a bitch," Derek said.

  "If you have any influence over Margaret Bryant, you should make sure that she doesn't go running off and go all freelancing to try to save her son. If I was a betting man, I'd say Jack Bryant is man on the edge. If he beat up his girlfriend and put her near death, there ain't no telling what he'd do to his wife."

  "Ralph," Derek said, "I wish you had some good news for me."

  "Afraid I'm fresh out of good news. Now, I know you well enough to know that you ain't gonna heed the advice I'm about to toss your way, but I feel compelled to offer it anyway: Don't go running into any situation that you can't run away from."

  "I think I'm already running, Ralph."

  It was no more than five minutes after ending the call with Ralph that Derek's iPhone vibrated again. This time, is was John Flannigan calling.

  "Derek," he said, "we have a serious issue."

  "Father, we have more serious issues than you may be aware of."

  "Listen to me," John demanded, his tone cut with urgency. "After Maggie and I left the police station and got back to the rectory, she told me she was tired and needed to rest for a bit."

  "Father, where is Maggie?"

  "She told me she was going to lie down for a bit."

  "Father, where the hell is Maggie?"

  "She left five minutes ago."

  #####

  Derek wanted to run but didn't know in which direction to head. He wanted to scream but could find no words that needed to be heard by others. He stood, pacing the floor of his hotel room, his hands clenched in fists against his temples, desperately trying to search his mind for any clue that he missed. Anything that would tell him what to do to save Maggie. To save Robby. To solve the mysteries.

  As if a sign from an outside agency, the notebook that Ron White wanted Derek to have, fell from the bed and onto the floor in front of Derek's feet. Seeing the notebook sitting on the floor provided an instant calming feeling to wash over Derek. He bent over, grabbed the book, and opened the cover. A folded up sheet of paper fell out of the book. Written on the outside of the sheet of paper was Derek's name.

  "Derek Cole, I hope this letter finds you. Of course, if it does find you it probably means that I am dead, which is rather unfortunate (at least from my point of view). Getting directly to the point, Jack Bryant killed me. The me
thod of his murder is, obviously, unknown to me, but as I write this letter to you, I am hoping that he at least killed me quickly.

  "The police are certain to find all the evidence they need to at least charge Jack for my death on my laptop computer, kept in my lovely room. If they are not yet suspecting Jack, please ensure that they either recover my laptop or, failing that, are given this notebook.

  "I won't bore you with the details of how I know Jack is my murderer. Suffice to say that he killed his father back in 1994 as well as two other people associated with the original case. One of the murders is listed as a missing person's case. Have the Portland Police investigate a missing person's case under the name 'Linda Shepherdson.' She is tied to the Bryant family in too many ways to detail in this letter, but she isn't missing, she was murdered due to her knowledge of the Luke Bryant case.

  "The second murder was of Henry Turck. Obit says that Henry died suddenly, which is true. What it doesn't say is that Henry Turck was investigating Luke Bryant's murder and was getting close to finding something before he was thrown down a flight of stairs in an apartment building. He was visiting a Vanessa Jones who is, according to what Henry told me in confidence, also tied to the Bryant family.

  "Contained in the hidden files labeled "JB Case" on my laptop, is all the proof needed to finally convict him. I've also saved a copy of the files on a Dropbox folder, the username and password to which appear at the bottom of this letter. Again, please make the police aware of these files.

  "You may be wondering why I wrote this letter to you, having only met you once and having only spoken to you for less than 15 minutes. The topic of our one conversation is the reason your name appears on this letter. I hope that you have used your investigative skills and have learned the significance of the name 'Phillip,' the name of the ghost visiting Robby.

  "I was an investigative reporter during my early and late careers and was one of the reporters asked to witness the séance which took place during the Phillip Experiment. What I experienced during that event altered the course of my life. I became obsessed with finding out the truth about ghosts and ghostly encounters: to either prove or to disprove the existence of ghosts. And, I am glad to say, that I have finally completed my investigation and have proven my theory.