by Laura Greene
Wandering through the path, Jane has no idea where it will lead and what horrors it will bring them face to face with; but it is a path that Jane feels she has to follow. It weaves through bushes and between the trees. Every so often, Jane will stop to listen for any sign of life. The quiet nocturnal sounds of the woodland setting are all she can hear; that is, until finally she comes close to what sounds remarkably like a collection of low murmurs.
Jane's blood runs cold, and Jack holds her hand momentarily from behind to reassure her. Up ahead, the trees reduce temporarily in number and a small clearing comes into view. What she sees standing in the center chills Jane to the bone. A ring of people, all dressed in black-hooded robes, are conversing in the darkness. Struggling, Jane is trying to hear what they are talking about. Only fragments are loud enough to be made out.
“They cannot know...”
“The sheriff... a thorn in our sides...”
“We cannot... risk exposure....”
“We will have to remove them...”
These voices carry over from the moonlit meeting in the clearing. The Elders in all their glory; secretly plotting. How long have they been meeting like this? Jane thinks she recognizes some of the voices... those of several people she knows in town. People she trusts. Clearly, they are the descendants of those in the graveyard.
Abject horror overtakes Jane when she hears another voice, this one close from behind. “Drop your gun.”
Jane turns, her nerves shredding as she sees Jack behind her, a strange ceremonial dagger held to his throat. The wielder of that blade is, like the others nearby, draped in a black, hooded robe. “I'll cut his throat open and let him bleed out. Drop it!” the sinister voice says again.
“Shoot him,” Jack replies. “Don't worry. Just shoot him.”
But Jane doesn't have it in her. Her training tells her not to endanger herself during a hostage situation, but this is no ordinary situation. This is the love of her life. She can't bear to see Jack die. He is everything to her, and if he has to go, she'd rather go with him.
Dropping the gun to the ground, two other robed figures appear from the trees around them. Jane's wrists are bound tightly with a rope cord, as are Jack's.
“What is it with people tying me up? First the Marsdens, then this. I'm starting to get a real persecution complex about my home town.” Jack can't help but crack a joke, even in the face of such a dire situation, and Jane loves him for it. She admires that sort of defiance.
The hooded figures march both of their captives for 40 minutes deeper into the forest. To Jane's surprise they are coming to another clearing, though this one is home to a bizarre secret. Pulling at the ground, the hooded figures remove a section of leaves and grass that has been clearly fabricated to obscure something. It is a large metal hatch.
“Looks like an old bunker. From the Cold War, probably,” Jack says loudly. “Thanks for the history lesson, guys, but I have to get back now – I have a book to finish.”
One of the hooded figures jabs their clenched fist into Jack's ribs to keep him quiet.
Jane looks on, fear building inside of her as the hatch is opened revealing a set of stairs leading underground. As they are being led down those stairs, Jane has the horrid feeling that she will never see the sky above again, even in its darkened nocturnal glory.
The steps downward are wet and uneven, and at their foot both Jane and Jack are being led along a corridor past several rooms and then, finally, to a large, metal, locked door made of rusted metal. One of the hooded figures pulls back the locking mechanism and the door creaks open. It takes Jane's eyes a moment to adjust to the fluorescent light coming from the room, but when they do, she sees something on the floor that both warms her heart and depletes her spirits.
Sitting on the floor, one hand tied to a sturdy-looking radiator, is none other than Pastor Callaghan.
“Jane! Jack!” he says, his voice trembling. “I'm so sorry you're here.”
“Way to make a guy feel welcome, Pastor,” Jack says. “I'm glad you're alive.”
“For how long... Oh, Jane, I wish you'd left all this alone!”
The hooded figures deliver Jane and Jack into the dungeon with the pastor, leaving and locking the metal door behind them.
“Pastor, what happened?” Jane asks, softly.
“Whateley called me one night from his farm. We'd spoken before about The Elders, and when he told me about seeing these hooded figures in the woods, I knew we had a chance to expose them once and for all!” The pastor sighs. “No doubt like yourselves, we came into the woods. I hoped to film them and bring the footage to Agent Ross or someone else at the FBI, but they chased Whateley and me. We tried to make it back to his farmhouse but... Lord save us! They shot him dead, and I had no choice but to surrender. I've been here for some time. I don't think they know what to do with me.”
“Why didn't you come to me for help?” asks Jane, saddened that her friend felt he couldn't rely on her.
“I knew what they were capable of. You’d just got your life back, Jane. The Elders have the contacts to take that away from you, and I couldn't risk it. I was trying to protect you... I didn't want anyone to get hurt until I had definitive proof of who they are and what they're doing.”
Jack sits on the floor, his arms still tied behind his back. “Pastor, what are The Elders?”
“A secret society. There are 12 of them, I think, but I'm not sure who. All I know is that the group has been running Wild Cove from the beginning of its history. Rigging elections, deciding who goes on what committee, even allowing you to be elected sheriff, Jane. Something I'm sure they now regret. I became aware of them some time ago, and ever since, I've been carrying out an investigation of my own. I cannot stand secret societies. They hide in the shadows and answer to no one. I wish I knew who they were as individuals...”
“I think we can help with that,” Jane whispers. “We know the names of the original 12 members. Their gravestones gave it away. They couldn't quite rest in peace without a clue that they were Elders. They left a small symbol on each gravestone like a badge of honor. We made a list of their descendants in town, and so if we can get out of here, it should be simple to expose them.”
Suddenly, the large metal door opens once more. Standing there in the doorway is the same hooded figure Jane saw holding a knife to Jack's throat. She knows this by the strange curved, ceremonial dagger he has, now partly obscured by a leather sheath. No doubt some ancient paraphernalia handed down between Elders.
Jack lets out a mocking laugh, “Boy, you guys really take this fancy dress stuff too serious. I know it's nearly October and all, but come on… Hoods? Robes? That's so 3000BC.”
“Silence.” The hooded man walks into the room and closes the door behind him. “I'm sorry it's come to this. But you all know too much, and we cannot keep you here indefinitely.”
“So, you're sending us on a lovely paid vacation?” Jack turns to the pastor and Jane. “That's so nice of them, isn't it? I'm going to rate you guys 5 stars on Facebook.”
“Jack,” the hooded voice says, “you can't wisecrack your way out of this.” The hooded figure then turns to the pastor. “If only you'd stayed in your church, holy man. None of this would have happened.”
“The world is the domain of God,” replies the pastor with nobility in his voice. “You do not get to decide where His light shines.”
The hooded figure draws his ceremonial dagger.
“If you're going to do it, show us your face. Don't be a coward,” says Jane.
The hooded man says nothing in return.
“Any good scrap deals these days, Chuck?” Jane says loudly.
Pulling his hood back, the man reveals himself. It is Chuck Moore, the owner of the Ford pickup truck that was found abandoned on Oak Lane weeks ago.
“It's a shame we have to kill you, sheriff,” Chuck says. “You're good at your job, I'll give you that.”
“I am really, really confused,” says Jack.
<
br /> Jane explains, “I saw the name Moore back on one of the graves. You're the only Moore left in town. It had to be you. I'm guessing you were trying to stage your own disappearance for some reason...”
Chuck kneels down in front of Jane, just a few inches from her face. “We knew someone in town had been sniffing around our organization. One of us had to make a sacrifice in order to flush them out. I drew the short straw. I had to give up my old life and we would use my 'death' and the occasional sightings of robbed figures in the woods as bait. Whoever was investigating us would show their hand trying to find out more, and we would deal with them. When Callaghan here and Whateley came snooping, we knew who it was. Whateley wasn't a danger, though it was fun to toy with him. The pastor here on the other hand, he was more than dangerous to us. A man of many talents and the ability to turn the town against us.”
“Shshwhwwhs,” Jane suddenly whispers quietly.
“What?” Chuck looks confused.
“Shshqwidhshd...” This time what Jane is saying is barely audible. She bows her head.
Chuck leans in to hear what Jane is saying. As soon as he is close enough, she pushes upward with all of her strength with her legs and flicks her head in an upward motion. The crown of Jane's head cracks against Chuck's face with such force that he is knocked clean out, collapsing to the floor.
“Normally, I don't approve of violence...” Pastor Callaghan says.
“I hope you'll make an exception here, Pastor.” Jane reaches over with her feet and manages to pull Chuck's ceremonial dagger towards her. She turns around and, with a few quick movements of her wrists, the dagger cuts through the cord, releasing her.
“This is why I love you!” Jack says as Jane cuts him loose.
“Don't kid yourself,” says Jane, still holding the dagger. “You love me because I don't nag at you for playing video games all night instead of working on your book.”
“Those games are research. I swear.”
After cutting the pastor's ties, Jane holds onto Chuck's knife and says, “They took my gun and radio. If we're going to make it out of here, we have to be as quiet as possible. If any of us makes it back into the forest, we should head for Oak Lane; Harley is waiting for us there.”
Chuck didn't lock the door, and so after tying him up and gagging him with a piece of cloth, Jane, Jack, and Pastor Callaghan move silently through the bunker. Sneaking past several rooms, they ascend the stairs cautiously.
“God smiled on us today,” the pastor says, seeing that the hatch is still open.
Poking her head slowly out of the hatch, Jane can't see any of the other hooded figures nearby. With the night shadows before them, Jane leads Jack and Pastor Callaghan towards the nearest tree-line, but just as they are reaching it, gunfire sounds, splintering against a pine tree next to Jack's head.
“Run!” Jane says, diving into the dense forest. “This way...”
“No!” the pastor pronounces loudly. “This way! I played in these woods as a kid!”
Bullets rain down upon them like hailstones, embedding in the trees and ground around them. As Jane and her friends are running they hear the unmistakable sound of other people giving chase, their feet snapping on fallen branches and the undergrowth of the forest.
Trudging through a muddy creek, over several boulders and through dense bushes, finally the pastor leads them to the outskirts of Oak Lane in front of the cemetery. Sitting like a beacon in the now early morning light is the patrol car of Harley. She stands there waiting for them, but as Jane approaches, Harley draws her gun. Her hand is shaking.
“Harley, what are you doing?”
Someone else now steps out of Harley's car. “Well done, my girl. Well done!”
Jane has only met this man once before, but she rarely forgets a face. It’s Harley's Uncle Felix. The very man who told Harley stories about The Elders when she was young. It now makes sense why Harley was told about The Elders in the first place. Though it is clear she has only just found out, she is to be the next in line for her family.
Two other people, carrying handguns, now emerge from the woodland behind Jack and the pastor. It is Arthur, who owns the bar on Main Street, and, of all people, Doreen the dressmaker. Jane turns to look at them, but it is Jack who speaks first. “Well, Doreen, you've lost a customer.”
“I'm...sorry, Jack. But The Elders can't be exposed. We've run this town for too long to let you get in our way,” says Doreen, coldly.
“Harley...” Jane starts to speak.
“Don't, Sheriff...” Harley replies. “I spoke to Uncle Felix. He told me everything. The town needs The Elders.”
“That's a good girl,” says Felix. “Now, we're going to have to figure out the best way to dispose of these three...”
“Harley... Please...” Jane says softly.
“He's my uncle...”
“And you're a police officer... It's your duty to do the right thing. I believe in you...”
“I've only got one thing to say to you, Sheriff,” says Harley, the trembling in her voice disappearing. “Duck!”
Jane drops to the ground, pulling Pastor Callaghan and Jack down with her. Arthur and Doreen are caught completely off-guard, and when Harley squeezes her trigger, they dive for cover. Harley's Uncle Felix grabs her from behind and wrestles for the gun.
Jane moves swiftly. She rushes forward with the ceremonial dagger she took from Chuck and lodges it in Doreen's side. Doreen lets out an ear piercing scream, but the danger is not over. Arthur has readied his aim. Jack is too far away, but Arthur soon takes a blow to the chin; a blow that knocks him clean off his feet. Jane lies on the ground, staring up at Pastor Callaghan in amazement.
“I call that the hand of God,” he jokes, helping Jane to her feet. “A long time ago, before I found God...let's just say I was a little rough around the edges.”
Harley is reading her own uncle his Miranda rights, putting him in handcuffs and into the back of her car. Jane has never been so proud of her.
Epilogue
The Elders had been around for over two centuries. Thanks to Jane's detective work, their influence on the town was soon exposed, alongside the names of all twelve descendants. The gossipers of Wild Cove spread the scandal like wildfire – except for those gossipers who were members, of course. They were placed in prison.
What had started with the death of Glenda Williams and ended with the fall of The Elders was the strangest period in Wild Cove's history. Bizarre goings on, dangerous conspiracies, murder, kidnap – the town had never seen such a chain of violent events. What the town needed now was a long period of peace, prosperity, and serenity.
Whether that would happen or not, Jane Scott did not know. All she cared about was marrying the man she loved. Jane and Jack were wed by Pastor Callaghan at the local church. The entire town turned up to see them off on their honeymoon. The two weeks of rest and fun in the Mediterranean were just what she and Jack had hoped for; but that rest was short lived. Nine months later came the patter of little feet; little Morris Macready, who ran around the old farmhouse with glee. Jack looked after him most days while Jane was on duty, and with Jane's support, Jack finally finished that book on the folklore and legends of Wild Cove. Incidentally, there was a rather large chapter on The Elders themselves, and a few publishers soon bid for the rights to publish it.
Wild Cove has become a true home to Jane Scott, and it is one she will always love, cherish, and protect, no matter what mysteries and adventures lie in wait beyond the limitless blue of the horizon.
Also by Laura Greene
Wild Cove Mystery Series
Murder At Wild Cove Book 1
Susan Dern is Missing Book 2
The Demise of Tom Hendry Book 3
The Past Life of Jane Scott Book 4
Behind The Crime Series
The Secret Door Book 1
The Houston Party Book 2
The Unclaimed Dead Book 3
Frozen In Time Book 4
Harlan
’s Secret Book 5
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About the Author
Laura Greene is an international bestselling Murder Mystery author. She loves the outdoors. Hiking, exploring new adventures in nature and spending time with her family make for some of her favorite moments in life. When she’s not writing a new Mystery, Thriller & Suspense, she loves to connect with her readers whom she considers her friends. Join Laura Greene on Facebook.