“Yes, but that’s not like, Timmy; teen or not. He always calls if he is going somewhere. Otherwise, he comes right home, Sheriff,” replied Herbert.
“Did he have his cell phone with him, Margie?”
“No, he left it here.”
“Okay, this is what I want you to do. We really can’t report this as a missing person just yet. We usually need to wait twenty-four hours before we can do that, but with the weather, I don’t want to take any chances.”
“Twenty-four hours? Sheriff, he could be buried in snow by then!” Margie exclaimed.
Raising his hands, he said, “Calm down, Margie. With the storm like the one we have right now, it’d be suicide to try to go out and search for him in the woods in the dark, but I will have the patrols keep an eye out. I’m sure he’ll show up.”
Sheriff glanced at Herbert. “I’m going to make a few phone calls and do some driving around between the school and here to see if I can track him down myself. I’ll call it in right away so the patrols will be aware of the situation. Wait here, and stay close to the phone. I’ll let you know what I find out as soon as possible, all right? If Timmy calls or comes home, call me right away. But, let’s not push the panic button just yet. If he doesn’t turn up by the morning, then we’ll begin a full search for him at first light.”
Margie’s eyes filled with tears as she held on to her husband’s large arm. “He’s not home now, and it’s going to storm all night … if he’s out there ...”
“I’ll try to find your boy, Herbert. I promise I’ll do my best.”
Herbert pulled his wife in close and extended his hand. “Thanks, Sheriff.”
The sheriff shook Herbert’s hand, then put his hat on before heading out the door.
* * * *
Early the next morning, the clock above the fireplace chimed six times while the pre-dawn light faintly illuminated the windows. Margie opened her eyes and sat up in her plush chair in which she had tried to sleep all night. Dreams had eluded her due to the fears that would not subside.
Margie stood up and and impulsively walked to the threshold of Timmy’s bedroom. Hoping to find her son safe and sound in the bed when she opened the door, her heart immediately sunk when she discovered it was still empty. Fear engulfed her, and she hurried into the living room and yelled, “He’s not here, Herbert. He never came home!”
Waking with a start, Herbert jumped up from his recliner and wrapped his arms around Margie. Together, they wept.
Herbert shuffled over to pick up the phone as he said, “I’ll call the sheriff right away, my dear. He said that they would begin a search early this morning if Timmy didn’t come home. I just pray he’s safe.”
* * * *
Ice had already formed on the edges of the pond as the freezing temperatures held onto their grasp throughout the winter night. Like a sheer veil, a light fog had settled over the monastery pond, only allowing a hint of the early light to be seen. The peacefulness of the morning gave no evidence of the storm that had raged only a few hours earlier. An eerie silence hung over the forest as bubbles began to trickle to the surface of the monastery pond. Timmy’s lifeless body rose from the depths and floated face down, turning lazy circles in the freezing water.
PART 2:
DARKNESS COMES TO LIGHT
CHAPTER 4
Deputy Williams briskly walked down the hallway to his shared office. Peering in, he said, “We got to get moving, Shamberg. Let’s go.”
Drenched with perspiration, Deputy Williams’ black sweatshirt had wet stains covering the embossed Sheriff’s department logo. This was his tenth search and rescue operation, and he knew what the team would be up against. Exhaling slowly, the deputy continued down the hallway and rapped on Sheriff Johnson’s office door.
“Come on in,” Sheriff Johnson shouted as he hung up his phone. Sitting up in his chair, he took a sip of his coffee.
Deputy Williams opened the door and entered as he announced, “Sheriff, the dogs are ready.”
The sheriff nodded and replied, “Thanks, Deputy. I just got a call from Herbert and Margie Fields, and their son didn’t come home last night. We need to go by their home and pickup something for a scent trail. Go ahead and get a team together so we can get started right away. We’ll begin our main search in the woods near the monastery and work our way out from there. The bird is getting prepped to go up in the air as soon as she’s ready. Tell everyone it’s time to head out.”
“Right away, sir.” Deputy Williams smiled solemnly and stepped out into the hallway, closing the door behind him.
* * * *
A sheriff’s cruiser, a kennel truck and a black sedan pulled up in front of Herbert and Margie Fields’ home. After parking the cruiser, Sheriff Johnson got out and walked up to the stoop of the two story, red Cape Cod and rang the doorbell. Deputies Williams and Shamberg got out and followed him. In the meantime, a thin, short haired brunette counselor, named Janice Blackwelder, arrived by herself; she joined them on the porch, holding her briefcase. The solemn group waited patiently as they heard the latch unlock.
Herbert answered the door and lifted his baseball cap off his head; his balding scalp reflecting the porch light above him. His muscular build reflected the years of hard labor he had spent working on his lobster boat. This normally stern man had obviously been deeply affected by the disappearance of his son. His hazel eyes were swollen and bloodshot from crying and lack of sleep.
Trying to subdue his obvious emotions, Herbert put his fist up to his mouth and cleared his throat. Taking a long, deep breath, he stood up straight and greeted them. “Hello, Sheriff. Do you have any news on Timmy?”
Sheriff Johnson took a deep, cleansing breath. “No, I’m sorry. I wish I did, Herbert.”
Herbert stood aside. “Come in, gentlemen.”
The men respectfully removed their hats and walked into the foyer. “Herbert, these are a few of my colleagues; Deputy Paul Shamberg, Deputy Christopher Williams, and counselor Janice Blackwelder.”
The weary man shook their hands as tears welled up in his eyes. His voice quivered as he replied, “Thank you all for coming.”
Deputies Williams and Shamberg walked over and stood in front of the fireplace to warm their hands. On the wall, photos of Timmy caught their attention.
Williams couldn’t help but get a lump in his throat. His voice faltered slightly as he glanced at his partner.“He’s a handsome young man, isn’t he? He’s so young, with his whole life ahead of him. I hope we find him.”
Deputy Shamberg faintly smiled, “He’s about my nephew’s age.”
Herbert asked, “Feel free to sit down if you wish. We’ve got some coffee already ready if you’d like some.”
Janice walked over towards the couch and sat down. Taking a pen and note pad out of her briefcase, she set it on her lap to be prepared.
Sheriff Johnson glanced at Herbert, and then down at his hat. After taking a deep slow breath, he said, “Herbert, we have got the dogs out in the car. We also have a ‘search and rescue’ helicopter prepping to scour the area right now. We need to start searching as quickly as we can. The sooner we do, the better our chances are to find him. We need some of Timmy’s clothes, preferably those that haven’t been laundered. It will help the dogs know Timmy’s scent for the search.”
“Hold on. I’ll go get Margie.”
Margie entered the living room wrapped in her robe, obviously still distraught. Her hands trembled as she handed over some clothes. “Here, this is one of his uniforms. Everything else has been washed.” Margie wiped her eyes as a tear crept slowly down her cheek.
Sheriff Johnson took the uniform from her and looked directly into her eyes. “Margie, we’re doing everything we can to find your son. I know that it’s very stressful while you wait, so I asked Janice to come here. She is our department counselor and is very good at helping people through difficult times.”
“Thank you, Sheriff.”
“I think you and Herbert need suppo
rt from people that are close to you. Just let us take care of finding Timmy. Okay?” Sheriff Johnson said as he put his hat back on.
Herbert interjected, “I’d like to help search for my son, Sheriff. I can’t think of anything else, so I might as well do my part to find him.”
Herbert looked down at Margie and asked, “Is that all right with you?”
Margie nodded her head in agreement.
Reaching for his coat, Herbert put it on then grabbed a flashlight.
“Margie, it would be best if you stay here and wait with Janice. Maybe he’ll make it home and you can be here waiting for him,” the sheriff said.
Margie’s bottom lip shook as a tear dripped from her cheek. “Okay.”
When she closed the door behind the men leaving, she turned around, placed her back against the door, and slid to the floor crying, “My baby! Oh, God! My poor baby! I’ll do anything to get him back! I’ll be a better person! I’ll go to mass every time the doors are open. I’ll even go to confession. Just please, bring my boy back to me! Don’t let anything happen to him. I’ll do anything. Please!” Margie rocked back and forth, almost losing her voice as she bargained with God.
Janice put down her notebook and walked over to the frightened mother. Resting her hand on Margie’s shoulder, she gently patted it in an effort to console her. “Come sit by me on the couch, Margie. I’m here to help in any way I can.”
Margie took Janice’s hand and stood up, then sat down beside her. Immediately, Margie sobbed as Janice wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t know what I will do if something happens to my son.”
From outside the front door, Herbert could hear his wife crying inside. He turned toward the front door placing his hand on the doorknob, but before he could turn it, Sheriff Johnson took hold of his arm.
“Herbert, she’s in good hands. Let her cry this out, okay? Look, we all have our own way of dealing with hardships. Come on, we need to find your son,” the sheriff said, trying to coax Herbert away from the house.
Herbert closed his eyes tightly as he refocused his motivation towards finding his son. “All right, Sheriff. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 5
After reaching the primary search site, Deputy Williams parked the department’s kennel truck on the roadside where several cars were already clustered. A small command tent had been set up, and was surrounded by a large group of men heavily bundled for the cold weather. Sheriff Johnson was already there giving instuctions to some of the men. Herbert Fields stood nearby, trying to stay out of the sheriff’s way.
Deputies Williams and Shamberg got out and walked around the truck, and then opened the kennels one by one. Williams ordered the search and rescue dogs to sit near him. The hounds immediately jumped out, obeying the deputy’s commands.
Williams put long leashes on the dogs as he asked, “Shamberg, can you please designate team leaders for the search and give them instructions so we don’t have chaos here? Don’t forget to pass out radios to the leaders too. We don’t want to wind up searching for them as well.”
“Right away, sir,” Deputy Shamberg responded as he turned and walked away to follow his orders.
Turning to Timmy’s father, Sheriff Johnson asked, “Herbert, which way does Timmy usually come home from school?”
Herbert lifted his arm and pointed down the street in the direction of the monastery. “He walks that way. He walks that way, but if the streets aren’t clear he will usually take his snow mobile.”
“And does he ever take an alternate route? Would he ever go to a friend’s house, before or after school?”
“Not usually. He is supposed to go straight to school and come straight home. No exceptions.” He paused. “However, I have known him to take shortcuts through the woods on occasion. There is a fort that he and his friends hang out at sometimes that is back near the monastery pond. However, he usually goes there when it’s warm weather.”
Sheriff Johnson picked up a bag containing Timmy’s clothing that Margie had supplied. He tossed it to Williams.
Turning to the dogs, Williams said, “Okay, boys, here we go!”
Taking out the plain, dark blue uniform shirt, he leaned down and held it in front of their noses. The dogs instinctively sniffed the clothes, while wagging their tails and barking. They were eagar to begin their search.
“Get a good smell here. You’re gonna’ find Timmy, aren’t you? He’s counting on us. There you go. Come on and take a good whiff now.” Williams patted each dog on the head. “Good boys. You ready to go to work?” The dogs began to bark loudly, anxious to begin their search.
“Let’s go!” Williams shouted as he let them loose from all their leashes.
The dogs took off immediately, leaving everyone behind. They instinctively put their noses to the ground, searching for some trace of Timmy’s scent. Meandering back and forth through the shadowy woods, they set about their task with purpose.
The early morning light barely penetrated the dark shadows of the woods. Even though it was still dim, neither the dogs nor the search crew relented. Beams of light danced through the trees and on the ground in front of the searchers as they as they trudged through the deep snow with their flashlights. Several of them tripped on tree roots and large rocks that were hidden beneath the cold, wet blanket covering the ground.
Sheriff Johnson glanced over at Deputy Williams as they followed the canines. “It is a good thing the dogs have been trained to follow scent trails in the snow.”
Herbert’s breath permeated the air like a fog as he tried to keep up with everyone. The intake of the cold morning air was shocking to his lungs. He bent over out of breath and braced his hands on his knees. As he caught his breath, the feeling of dread overwhelmed him.
The search teams had already headed to their designated area. Spreading out, their flashlights cast long beams throughout the surrounding trees. Echoes resounded through the trees as many of the volunteers repeatedly yelled, “Timmy Fields!”
After over an hour of searching in the freezing conditions, the hounds appeared to have detected something and began barking loudly. They took off running in a different direction as fast as they could. Herbert, Sheriff Johnson and the deputies followed them immediately. Hoping that it was a good sign that they were on the right track, everyone began shouting Timmy’s name as loud as they could.
While laboring to walk through the deep snow, Sheriff Johnson glanced over at Herbert and asked, “By any chance, does Timmy walk through here to go home after school?”
“I think so, usually he would be with a friend. As I mentioned earlier, they have a fort that they built when they were in middle school, but I’m not sure where it is exactly. I don’t know the last time he visited it.”
The sheriff breathed heavily as he tried to keep up with the canines. The dogs ran ahead of them, following the scent trail. Suddenly, they stopped dead in their tracks, but continued with their deafening howls.
“The dogs found something!” Sheriff Johnson yelled.
At the same time, an owl suddenly hooted, startling everyone.
“Watch out!” exclaimed one of the deputies.
The men ducked as the large bird spread his wings and dove close to their heads. Flapping its wings several times, the owl flew out of sight as quickly as he had made an entrance. The lonely howl of a wolf echoed through the early morning air, adding to the suspenseful mood of the search. The dogs continued to bark as they looked upward at a large oak tree.
Herbert’s hair stood up on the back of his neck as he looked over at Sheriff Johnson. Pointing his flashlight straight ahead, he paused to focus on a spot where the dogs had stopped. The sheriff shined his light in that direction, hoping to find any sign of Timmy. As the rest of the search team caught up, they aimed their flashlights upward and cast their beams on a crudely-built fort.
The spotty lighting revealed a rickety ladder nailed to the massive tree trunk. It reached the fort’s entrance at about twenty feet above the groun
d. The weathered plywood floor was braced underneath by several large branches. A plywood roof was covered with a black tarp that partially protected the amateurishly-made structure.
Herbert stared at the fort and silently prayed, “God, please let them find my boy up there and still alive.”
The sheriff ordered, “Shamberg, check out that fort, but be careful. It probably isn’t very safe.”
Deputy Shamberg headed towards the ladder. “Okay, here we go,” he said as he started to climb. The deputy felt his heartbeat all the way up in his throat with every step he advanced. All he could think about was finding the boy.
“Be careful, man! Watch your step!” yelled Deputy Williams.
Deputy Shamberg grabbed the wooden boards. Each step squeaked as he made his way upward. I hope this ladder can hold me, he thought to himself. He definitely was not confident that the structure was stable. Finally, upon making it to the top, he looked down at the others and shouted, “The wood is almost rotten in some places. All I see are a few magazines and an empty beer can up here.”
Sheriff lowered his head and sighed. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he yelled. “What’s the date on the magazine? That may tell us if he or anyone has been up there recently?”
“It’s this month’s, Sheriff. A car racing magazine, from what I can tell.”
Deputy Shamberg took photos each item before putting them in some evidence bags.
Sheriff Johnson lowered his head, obviously discouraged. “It’s no wonder that the dogs ran in this direction.” He looked at Herbert while pointing at the tree house. “He’s been up here recently, otherwise the hounds wouldn’t have picked up his scent. Okay, bring those down, Deputy; but watch your step coming down. We’ll have to take that fort down soon, before someone gets badly hurt.”
Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) Page 3