Disappointed, Deputy Williams said, “Throw it down to me so you’ll have your hands free, Shamberg.”
Deputy Shamberg easily tossed the bag down to Williams. He climbed down the ladder slowly, slipping once as he descended. He was relieved once he finally had both feet on the ground again.
Fatigued, everyone continued on their search. They walked through the forest calling Timmy’s name. Completely exhausted, Herbert lost his footing several times. He staggered and fell in the snow.
Deputy Williams extended his hand. “Mr. Fields, are you okay?”
Herbert stood and hollered as streams of tears stung his blistered cheeks. “Timmy!? Where are you?!” he shouted. Glancing over at Williams, discouragement filled his voice as he said, “We’re not gonna’ find him. Are we?”
The deputy lowered his head, unsure of how to answer Herbert. Instead, he gave the grieving man a hardy pat on the back. “Come on. Let’s keep looking.”
* * * *
A few more hours into the search, the first streams of sunlight peered through the thick fog. As the morning awakened, so did the sound of vultures in the distance. Sheriff Johnson stopped dead in his tracks. Looking up at the circling horde, he gasped, “Oh, no!”
Hearing the noises, Williams stopped and asked, “Did you hear that?”
“No. What did you hear?” Herbert asked, shaking his head.
A screech filled the skies, capturing everyone’s attention. The other deputies raised their eyes to see the ominous sign.
Sheriff Johnson studied the scavenging birds from a distance. The vultures would take turns diving toward the earth and out of site. The sheriff glared at them with disdain. Squinting, he whispered to himself, “I guess I know where to look now.”
As Herbert watched the birds circling, his chest began to heave with panic-ridden gasps. He collapsed on his knees in the snow, emitting a wail that permeated with complete agony. Exhausted, he forced himself to stand up again and shouted, “My God, don’t let it be my son! Please! Not my Timmy!” The echoes continued to resound over the forest as his voice trailed off into desperate sobs.
Sheriff Johnson reached in his pocket and pulled out his smart phone to take a GPS reading. He turned eastward and and pointed at the vultures. “Let’s check out what they are interested in. They should be pretty close to the monastery, which is about a half a mile away. Let’s head there right now.” He took a deep breath, recalling the last time a body was found in that general vacinity.
They hurried through the snow with the dogs leading the way. Suddenly, one of the canines lifted his head and started to run with renewed purpose. Barking constantly, all of the dogs caught the same scent and quickly followed him. Sheriff Johnson and the other men breathlessly ran to try to keep up.
“They’re onto something, guys. Try to keep up!” Sheriff yelled back at the men.
The exhausted team took deep breaths, the icy air chilling their lungs, while they unsuccessfully tried to keep pace with the dogs. In the sky above, the helicopter flew as low as it could while searching for the missing young man. The sound of the chopper blades pounded their eardrums repeatedly as they moved forward.
Sheriff Johnson’s radio squelched, so he turned up the volume.
“I have visual on something unusual in the monastery pond. You should check it out, sir,” the pilot said.
“Is that where the vultures are? Over.”
The pilot replied, “Affirmative, Sheriff. I see a few flying around.”
“I see them now. We’re on our way.”
“Copy that, Sheriff,” the pilot concluded.
The dogs ran through the woods as fast as they could. They left deep trails of paw prints in the snow, and continued until they reached the white expanse of the monastery lawn. Up ahead a large pond emerged between two large evergreen trees. The dogs headed directly towards the pond, leaving everyone behind. One by one, they reached the edge of the water, sat down and barked continuously.
Sheriff Johnson gasped for air as he approached the pond. His eyes widened as he saw something in the water. He stared in disbelief for a moment, before saying under his breath, “Oh, my God. Lord, help us.”
Looking at the body, the sheriff closed his eyes as he shook his head slowly from side to side. Reaching up to his shoulder, he pushed the button for his radio. “Deputy Williams, do you copy?”
The deputy’s voice sounded over his speaker. “Affirmative, Sheriff.”
“Deputy, keep Mr. Fields up there with you away from the pond. Do not let him come over here. Do you understand?”
“Affirmative, sir,” Williams replied.
Hearing the sheriff over radio, Herbert’s heart sank into despair. It felt like it was about to explode, leaving a gaping hole; a hole that would never be filled again. His need to know the truth raged a battle with his own denial of reality.
Deputy Williams stopped and held out his arm in front of Herbert like a barrier to hold him back. Panting slightly, he said, “Mr. Fields, you need to stay back here. We don’t know what is over there. Let the sheriff check it out before we go over there.”
Herbert obeyed the deputy’s instructions and remained where he was. Sheriff Johnson gazed at the pond, as Timmy’s lifeless body floated in the quiet freezing water. A vulture landed on his stiff back and squawked. He grabbed a piece of flesh and tore it away from the corpse, raised his beak devouring it.
The sheriff’s eyes welled up as he filled with sadness. He yelled at the vulture, frantically waving his hands in the air. The screeching bird hopped up and down on the remains. Spreading its wings, the scavenger took flight with flesh hanging from its beak.
Sheriff Johnson pressed his lips together as he turned around with tears swelling up in his eyes. Removing a white handkerchief from his back pocket, he wiped his eyes. Carefully folding it, he reinserted it in his back pocket as the deputies and a couple of the search teams finally caught up to him.
Taking a deep breath, the sheriff shook his head slowly while praying silently for guidance. “Oh, my God, I don’t think Herb’s gonna’ be able to handle this.”
Looking down from an upper window of the St. Francis Monastery, a mysterious misty figure stood and witnessed the events transpiring below. A young woman gazed through the pane glass with her blue eyes sunk deep in their sockets. A sorrowful look covered her face as her long blonde hair trailed over her shoulders. The corners of her mouth fell as she placed her hand on the window sill.
One of the dogs noticed her, and began to growl and bark loudly. Sheriff Johnson sternly commanded the canine, “Hush now!” Even after the sheriff patted the dog on the head, it continued to bark up at the window.
Turning to see what was causing the dog to get so excited, the sheriff studied the monastery intently. When he gazed up toward to the window, he caught a glimpse of the ghostly image staring back at him through the glass. In an instant, the woman vanished before his eyes. What in the world? he thought. As the men approached him, he raised his hands, trying to get the team’s attention. “Everyone stand back. Don’t come any closer!” The search team stopped in their tracks, waiting anxiously for their instructions.
The sheriff turned back around and stared at the sight before him. The lifeless body of Timmy Fields floated face down on the water’s surface. Early light glistened and danced innocently off of the ice crystals in Timmy’s hair as his body drifted into some reeds near the water’s edge.
A vulture pecked at his exposed neck, while clutching to the boy’s jacket with his talons. Another vulture circled closely, squawking loudly as it inspected the intruders below. He flew down and landed on Timmy’s back and snapped at the other vulture. The first vulture snapped back and then flew away.
Sheriff Johnson turned back to Herbert, who was kneeling in the snow completely in shock as he caught a glimpse of his dead son in the water. Herbert kept mouthing words that never came out as he trembled in the cold. The mourning father began to gasp several times before finally releas
ing the deepest agonizing sound from his soul.
After allowing the man to grieve for a few moments, Deputy Williams approached Herbert and held out his hand. “Please take my hand, Mr. Fields.” His assistance was ignored by the grieving father.
Unwilling to get up, Herbert cried out to the heavens in disbelief, “Oh, my God! No! That can’t be my son! Oh, God! No!” Yelling out in anguish, he collapsed into the snow sobbing.
Williams tried to grab his hand again, but Herbert refused to stand up. Lying on the ground, Herbert’s wails filled the air. Everyone nearby stopped respectfully and allowed the grief-stricken father to mourn. Each of them could only stand and stare as the reality of the situation hit them head-on. Timmy would never go home again.
Suddenly, another vulture landed on Timmy’s back. The first vulture bounced a couple of times before flying away. The remaining scavenger stabbed his long beak into Timmy’s neck tearing away a piece of flesh.
“Get off of him!” In a final effort to protect his son’s body, Herbert stood up frantically waving his hands back and forth yelling, “Get off of him! Get off him! That’s my boy!”
The vulture ripped off one more large chunk of skin with its beak before flying away. Herbert stood like a statue in the snow covered bank with his eyes locked on his son’s body. Stunned by what he saw, tears slid down his cheeks as he watched in disbelief.
Sheriff Johnson’s eyes filled with sadness, as he thought of how he’d feel if he lost his own son. He blinked several times, trying to stop the flow of tears before they ran down his weathered face. Pushing his radio button, he spoke with resignation. “We found him.” Turning to Deputy Shamberg, he continued, “Shamberg, do you have your camera on you?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Go ahead and take some photos before we disturb anything. I want to get him out as soon as we can; don’t want the body to deteriorate any more than it has. Those vultures have caused enough damage already.”
Deputy Shamberg nodded as he walked towards the sheriff and took out his camera. Lifting it up to his eyes, he began taking snapping several pictures of Timmy’s icy corpse. Finally, he said, “Sheriff, I think I’ve got enough photos of him in the water.”
“All right, Shamberg. Can you help me get him out of the water?”
“Yes, sir,” Deputy Shamberg replied.
Timmy’s body rotated around in the water so that Deputy Shamberg could see the extensive damage caused by the vultures. The deputy’s stomach churned inside as the horrific scene before him began to sink in. Placing a hand over his mouth, he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. Putting his camera in its case, he set it on a large rock nearby.
Attempting to gain some control back, Deputy Shamberg cautiously walked over and slowly waded into the icy cold water. Grabbing a hold of Timmy’s stiff arm, the deputy pulled him to the side of the pond and rolled him over. Sheriff Johnson waded out and grasped one of Timmy’s legs, assisting the deputy in pulling the corpse onto the snow-covered ground.
Drained of all life, Timmy’s stiff corpse was mostly pale white. Dark purple bruising was pronounced around his neck and in various places all over his body. Deep scratches covered his face and hands. His mouth gaped open as if frozen in a silent scream. Hungry fish had left nothing but vacant eye sockets to stare at the morning sunlight breaking the horizon.
From a distance, Herbert could see Timmy’s lifeless body in the sheriff’s arms. Raising his face toward the heavens, he yelled, “Dear God, why?!” Herbert’s chest heaved as he sank again sobbing, into the snow. Williams quickly moved to try to catch him, but the older man refused any help.
The sheriff and deputy gently laid Timmy’s body carefully onto a flat area away from the water. Sheriff Johnson glanced over towards Herbert as he thought about his own son, who was safe and warm at home. Ambulance sirens sliced through the silence, remotivating the men in their purpose. The sheriff broke away from his mental distraction and released hold of Timmy’s stiffened leg.
Herbert managed to stand to his feet. With wobbly knees, he trudged over to the concrete bench by the pathway to the pond. Sitting down and covering his face with his hands, he did his best to find a mental escape from the harsh reality surrounding him. An overwhelmimg numbness engulfed his innermost soul, and he felt as though this world was spinning out of control.
Overcome with emotion and complete exhaustion, Sheriff Johnson stood next to the body in respectful silence. As the cold air blew through his soaked uniform, he began to shiver uncontrollably. Rubbing his hands together, he unsuccessfully attempted to warm them up from the freezing cold.
Pushing his radio button, Sheriff Johnson instructed, “Williams, would you go to my car and get another set of dry clothes out of the trunk? Also, grab a couple of blankets for us. Over.” The sheriff glanced toward the driveway and saw several EMTs get out of an ambulance.
Herbert looked at the sheriff painfully. With his mouth slightly open, he shook his head back and forth, unable to utter a word. Closing his eyes, anguish and grief washed over him like a tidal wave.
Satisfied that the body was secure, Sheriff Johnson carefully walked back towards Herbert as he tried to console his friend. The sheriff placed his arm on Herbert’s back and patted it gently then said, “I’m so sorry, Herbert. As soon as I saw the birds over the pond, a sick feeling filled the pit of my stomach. I cannot begin to know how you feel, my friend.”
Deputy Shamberg picked up his camera again and returned to the body. Lifting the camera up, he began to take more pictures to document evidence. He carefully chose every angle he could in order to get all of the photos he needed. Gusts of wind violently blew snow near him as the ‘search and rescue’ helicopter landed on a snowy clearing at the top of the hill.
Deputy Williams returned with some dry clothes and blankets. Handing them to the sheriff, he said, “The ambulance is here, sir.” The deputy wrapped one of the blankets around Herbert’s shoulders, as he sat on the bench.
“Thank you, Deputy. Get Mr. Fields to a warm place while I go talk to the pilot.”
“Yes, sir.”
As he waited for the blades to slow down, Sheriff Johnson told Herbert, “We’ll get you somewhere warm in just a few minutes. I don’t want you to get sick.”
Herbert nodded in response as Sheriff Johnson turned to leave and ran towards the helicopter. Shielding his eyes from the blowing snow, the sheriff crouched down to avoid the blades. Finally, he got in and closed the door behind him to get out of the elements. He thought to himself, Damn, I’m freezing. I will need to change at the monastery.
The pilot yelled over the engine. “This is unbelievable, sir! I thought all of this was over. Here we go again.”
Sheriff Johnson shivered as he nodded, acknowledging the pilot’s words. “It would seem so, Jason,” he said as he wrapped the blanket around himself tightly.
“Do you need me for anything else, sir?”
“No. As you can see, we found the body, so you can head back when you’re ready. I need to go get changed into dry clothes. I also need to take Mr. Fields to a warm place before his wife has to plan a double funeral.”
Jason replied, “All right, sir. What a horrible way to start our day, huh?”
Sheriff Johnson nodded his head in resignation. “I completely agree.”
On his radio, the sheriff heard one of the team leaders say, “Sheriff, do you copy?”
“Right here, Gerald.”
The gruff voice blared again over the radio, “Our team found a man’s shoe near the back side of the monastery building. It’s close to the back door. Is the victim missing a shoe?”
Sheriff Johnson responded, “Affirmative. I did notice he only had one shoe on. Mark the spot but don’t mess with the evidence. I’ll make sure to get forensics over there right away. Good work, Gerald. Thank you for the help.”
“Thank you, Sheriff. I have kids too, so I had to help. Too bad we didn’t find him in time. I’ll mark where the shoe is and let a
deputies know where it is.”
Sheriff Johnson took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Copy that. Yes, it’s a sad day. Well, I need to get out of these wet clothes. Talk later.”
Gerald replied, “Understood, Sheriff. Don’t get sick.”
“I don’t plan to. No time for that. Too much to do.” Sheriff Johnson released the radio button then turned to the pilot. “Be safe.”
“You too, sir.” Jason said as the sheriff gathered his things and left.
CHAPTER 6
Returning from the helicopter and still wrapped in the blanket, Sheriff Johnson approached Herbert, extending his hand to help the bereaved man rise. Herbert remained motionless under his own blanket, silently staring across the pond. With dull eyes, he slowly looked at the sheriff’s hand in front of him.
Filled with empathy, Sheriff Johnson spoke in a soft voice, “Come on, Herbert, let’s go inside the monastery and try to get warm. You need to pull yourself together before talking to your wife. I’m sure you know we all need to be strong for her.”
Herbert’s hand trembled as he pulled the blanket tightly around him. Grasping the sheriff’s hand with his own, Herbert successfully stood up.
Sheriff Johnson placed his arm around Herbert to hold him steady as they both shuffled their feet in the deep powdery snow. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Herbert could barely walk. With each step, his legs barely supported his weight. Until then, he had not realized how badly every muscle in his body ached from the search.
The sheriff looked at Deputy Williams and said, “Go ahead and put the dogs up. They’ve earned their rest and a nice treat.”
“Yes, sir,” Williams replied as he ordered the dogs to follow him towards the group of vehicles that had gathered in the monastery drive.
Still wrapped in the blankets, the pair of older men trudged through the snow towards the monastery. Sheriff Johnson clutched the bag of dry clothes in his hand, anxious to change from his freezing, wet uniform. As he and Herbert approached the first step, he cautioned, “Be careful now. Take your time, Herb. Hold onto the railing so you don’t slip.” Herbert’s hands trembled as he held himself up on the railing and conquered each step one-by-one.
Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) Page 4