Detective Nicholas came into the room carrying a brown briefcase. He sat down across from me and removed a notepad. Lieutenant Weaver appeared a moment later. His gray eyes bored into me as his lips formed a tight lipped grimace.
“So, Reverend Schaeffer. Is that title right?” Detective Nicholas said. “Or do you prefer Pastor?”
“Aidan is fine.”
“Not the first time you have been here, is it?” Nicholas glanced up at me from the notepad.
“No,” I replied. “And I’m sorry to see the decoration has not changed since the last time. You guys should hire an interior decorator. Some softer colors and drapes for the interrogation window.”
“Yeah, we’ll get right on that,” Weaver said, acid dripping from his tongue. “Since you have been here before I’m going to dispense with the preliminary bullshit.”
“Fine with me. I want to find Jennifer as much as you do. If questioning me will help, then fire away.”
His smile went tight. “We hope so.”
“And let me just cut the shit and ask, do you guys think I’m a suspect in this?”
Lieutenant Weaver sat back in his chair and examined me. “Yeah, that’s about the size of it.”
“I thought so.”
“Since we are dispensing with the pleasantries, I want you to tell me the nature of your relationship with Detective Brown.”
“We’re friends, and I was, and I think she is too, hoping for more.”
The detectives glanced at each other before Nicholas scribbled something on his notepad.
“When did your friendship begin?” Weaver asked.
“Right here in this room, as a matter of fact. She was the lead questioner when you guys brought me in after Amanda’s murder.”
“How did things develop after that? Did you initiate contact?”
“I did, but I didn’t want to.”
“Why not?” Nicholas asked.
“Why not? Because the woman suspected me of murder. Not exactly an invitation to a relationship, would you say?”
“Are you saying you had no interest in Detective Brown?” he asked, leaning forward.
“It depends on what you mean by that. Did I notice that she was a smart, attractive woman? Of course I did. But I wasn’t about to ask her on a date.”
They both smiled in spite of themselves.
“So, why did you contact her?” Nicholas asked.
“I remembered a storage shed I shared with Amanda, and I thought you all would like to have a look.”
“Then what happened?” Weaver pressed.
“I called her, and she visited me at the church the day after. She wanted me to see the murder scene and, well, help with something that was puzzling her.”
“What’s that?”
“The bare footprints.”
They looked at each other. “Why were those bothering her?”
“The same reason they bothered everyone else. There seemed to be no explanation for them.”
“So, why did she think you would be able to help?” Lieutenant Weaver gave me a hard glare.
“I’m a minister. You know all this already. She said she cleared it with you, so don’t bother trying to trap me with it. I guess she thought there was a supernatural explanation.”
Nicholas scribbled again on his notepad and looked up at me. “When is the last time you saw Detective Brown?”
“Last night. She came over after my session meeting. We talked for a while, agreed to meet today, and then she went home. I showed up at Northstar, but she wasn’t there. I tried calling her a few times; I thought maybe she slept late. So, I had something to eat and decided to head down to her place. The rest you know.”
Nicholas stood and began to pace about the room, deep in thought. “So basically, you are telling me that your connection to two recent murder victims and one missing person is just a coincidence?”
“No, that isn’t what I’m telling you.”
He turned toward me, his face red. “What?”
“Amanda was my ex-fiancée. Jessica was a secretary at a church I visited. And Jennifer, well, she was … is the detective investigating the case. All linked. There is the connection.”
“Are you confessing?”
“Not at all.”
“Then what?” Nicholas put his hand on the table and leaned in to me.
“You have all the notes Detective Brown filed, correct?”
“Yes, and you are at the center of all of them.”
“Then you know I was at the hospital during Amanda’s murder, and I was actually with Jennifer herself during Jessica’s murder. So somehow, you have developed this brilliant scheme that I murdered the first two and was preparing to do the same to Jennifer.”
I paused to let my words sink in.
“Well, I didn’t,” I continued. “I like Jennifer, and I want you all to find her. You have all the information you can get out of me, so get started!” I thumped my hand on the desk.
They both looked at me, their mouths slightly open.
“Well?” I said.
“It’s not a good idea to yell at cops who are questioning you on the possible disappearance of one of their own,” Weaver growled.
I shrugged. “I don’t care anymore. I want you to spend your time finding her. I gave you everything I have, now use it.”
Before Nicholas could respond, there was a knock on the window. Both men looked up, surprised. “We will be back,” Weaver said.
I sat there, slumped in the chair. At that point, the only reason I cared if they arrested me was that it would take away from a real search for Jennifer. I couldn’t understand what happened to her. Given the bizarre text messages I received, all the signs indicated that she was the next victim, and it would be tonight at midnight, though I had no idea where.
I looked at the clock on the wall. Two o’clock. I had ten hours, and I was stuck in this interrogation room. I fought the urge to pass out as I drummed my hands on the desk.
Lieutenant Weaver came back into the room. “Why didn’t you tell us that you were with someone last night after Jennifer left your place?”
I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wasn’t sure if this was another interrogation trick. “Guess I forgot.”
“So, who were you with?”
He had called my bluff. I said the first name that came to my mind. “Father Neal.”
He tapped his pencil. “Aidan, we have to find Jennifer.”
His change in demeanor sent me back into my chair. “I know that.”
“She talked about you, you know.”
I smiled slightly. “Yeah? What did she say?”
“She really likes you. Of course, being the professional that she is, she never said so, but I could tell.”
“And I really like her.”
We stared at each other. “Father Neal is in the station right now,” he said. “He signed a statement saying you were with him last night.”
Interesting, I thought. I wondered if he did some magick trick to implant his name in my mind.
“Now do you guys believe me?” I asked, anxious to leave.
“Yes, we do. But you have to understand, your connection to all of this seems a little strange.”
I snorted. “Tell me something I don’t know, lieutenant. A few weeks ago, I was just a broken-hearted, single minister with no life but the church.” I paused. “What happened with Jennifer? Do you guys have any information?” I was relieved to be able to ask questions of my own.
He shook his head. “All we know is that she didn’t make it home last night.” He sighed. “Is there anything you can tell us that might help to find her?”
I thought about the footprints. The Bone Masters. Nebo. Nachash. “No, I guess you have everything that she wrote down.”
“Only the business parts,” he said.
I nodded.
“You’re free to leave, Aidan. We never had any real evidence on you.”
“Not really a surpri
se to me.” I tried to smile in what I hoped was a good-spirited way.
He gave me a half smile. “No, I guess not. I think Father Neal is waiting for you in the lobby. We told him we were going to let you go home, given his statement.”
“Thanks.”
I couldn’t get out of that room fast enough. I walked down the hall to the main lobby and found Father Neal. His wrinkled face and white hair had never looked so beautiful. He walked up to me and gave me a hug.
“How did you know I was here?” I whispered into his ear.
“They told me,” he whispered back as he hugged me tighter. “We don’t have much time, Aidan. We have to go back to St. Patrick’s. Everyone will be there.”
We walked out to the car, and I climbed into the back as a long, dark-haired driver turned to me.
“Hey, Preacha. Becoming quite the jailbird, eh?”
“Kiss my ass, Darrin,” I gave him a half smile. “Yeah, well, didn’t you know? All preachers are either scoundrels or former scoundrels.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The ghost hunting team had assembled in the conference room at St. Patrick’s by the time we arrived. Kate, Zoe, Reg, and to my complete surprise, Olan and Edna were there too.
“Oh, Aidan, are you okay?” Edna said as she rushed over to me and put her arm around my shoulders. “We’ll find Jennifer, don’t worry.”
“What are you two doing here?” I asked.
Olan smiled as he gave me a manly pat on the back. “Father Neal is a close friend of ours, and we’re unofficial members of the group. We are too old to go on hunts, so we do historical research. We’ve been keeping an eye on you for him.”
Keeping an eye on me? I decided to ignore that comment. All the people in the room made me smile, and I felt a rush of warmth as I looked at everyone. They’d come to help and had probably left class or taken off work to be here.
“Thanks, everyone,” was all I could manage.
“Enough speeches. We have work to do, and we’re running out of time.” Father Neal’s voice galvanized us.
The rest of the group looked over text messages and audio from the investigation for any further clues while Father Neal made Darrin bring maps of Ohio into the office.
After several hours of talking and going over Hebrew grammar books, searching for a variant on serpent, we’d gotten nowhere.
“Nachash. For the love of God, what is it?” I said, looking up and seeing that it was five o’clock.
“Where is it, is the question you really need to ask. We already know the what.”
“It has to be a place close by, right?” I looked at the map of Ohio. Someone had put a red pin in Columbus and Athens and connected them with a red string.
“Yes, to form a triangle, thus completing the ritual,” Reg said as he traced over the red lines and looked to the northeast corner of the map.
“How exact does it need to be?”
“Not very, but close enough,” Father Neal said as he walked over.
“And it has to be a place of power?” Kate asked, tracing one of the vivid scars on her face.
“Without question,” Zoe said, handing Father Neal his coffee.
We all stood, huddled around the map. I squinted to make out features that would qualify as a place of power, though I honestly had no idea what that could be by looking at a simple road map.
I remembered the small scratches under the Hebrew on Jessica’s head. Had I missed something? I looked at my hand. The marker had faded. I couldn’t make out what I’d written. I wished I’d written it on a piece of paper. I couldn’t shake the feeling those scratches would have answered our question.
“What about Moundsville, West Virginia?” Kate offered, pointing at the border of Ohio and West Virginia. “There are Native American mounds there.”
Father Neal rubbed his gray stubble. “I thought about that, but how does Nachash fit in? Chillicothe is a graveyard, but there’s no serpent connection that I know about. Same thing with the Newark mounds. It’s a huge earthen observatory. The complex itself has some interesting associations, but nothing that would help us.”
“What kind of associations?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“Just some rumors of giant skeletons and old Hebrew inscriptions found on the site. Nothing has ever been confirmed so we can discount that. Although, some people have connected it with the Nephilim and magick. It’s a possibility, but I don’t think it quite fits, because—”
He broke off with a gasp.
“What’s wrong?” Darrin asked.
“I’m thick and old, Darrin. How could I not see this? Nachash. It means serpent, yes, but it also means shining magician, necromancer, those who dabble in the black arts. A double meaning.”
He placed his finger on a spot in the southwest area of the state then traced to Athens, back to Columbus and downward. “Perfect,” he whispered.
“What, priest? Spit it out.” I prodded.
He didn’t answer as he walked over and grabbed a red book off his desk titled Weird Ohio. He flipped through the pages.
“I have found our snake in the grass.” He opened up the book and showed us a picture of an ancient Native American earthen effigy mound in the shape of a large snake.
“That’s it, that’s it!” I yelled. “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.”
Father Neal began to read. “The Serpent Mound in Peebles, Ohio is the largest effigy mound in the United States. It has recently become of interest in the paranormal community due to its reputation for strange phenomena. The New Age community also holds an interest in the mound as a vortex, like the one in Sedona, Arizona. Shallow caves in the bottom of the hill have been thought to hold gateways to other worlds as represented by the snake’s open mouth.” He pointed at the snake’s head, which was swallowing something. “I wonder what that is.”
“Looks like an egg,” I said. “I thought you studied all of this, Father?”
Father Neal frowned. “I have as much as I can between my priestly duties and other things. Plus, there’s never been any magickal indication The Grinning Man lay buried there.” He looked down at the picture. “My guess is that is where the ritual will be held, at the head of the snake, the opening to the worlds, as it were.”
“We have to go. Now,” I said, jumping up. “Peebles is about two hours from here.”
“Yes,” Olan said, laying a hand on my shoulder. “We do.”
“But, Olan, you can’t…”
“Try and stop me, Aidan, my boy. All of us need to go. Right, Father Neal?”
Father Neal leaned on his cane, taking in each face as if reading some hidden information. “Yes, I think all of us will go, but only Aidan and I must go to the mound itself. It’s too dangerous for some of you. Do you understand?”
They all nodded.
“You all promise to do as I say and stop when I tell you?”
“We promise,” everyone said in unison, somber excitement in their voices.
“Reg, can we all fit in your SUV?”
“Well, two people will have to sit in the back if they don’t mind.”
“We will,” Kate said, grabbing Darrin’s hand as he smiled.
Father Neal nodded. “Then, let’s go. We’ll call Lieutenant Weaver when we reach the mound.”
“Why not now?” I said as I reached for my phone.
“Because I won’t risk their lives.”
Not knowing what to say, I followed everyone out to the cars.
Chapter Thirty-Five
I sat in the middle seat between Zoe and Olan. Edna stayed behind to organize what she called “prayer warriors.” The knot in my stomach tightened as we drove down Interstate 71 toward Cincinnati. We would have to get on the back-roads eventually, and I hoped we wouldn’t run into any slow-moving tractors.
Everyone talked about different things, trying to take their minds off what was about to take place. I couldn’t speak. I felt like if I opened my mouth, I would throw up. I tri
ed not to think of the bloodstained cross or Jessica’s ring. If I did, my thoughts immediately jumped to what could be done to Jennifer.
Father Neal’s voice broke into my racing thoughts. “I think we should pray.”
“Aidan? Will you join us?” Olan asked, giving me a sidewise glance. Everyone looked at me.
“No, I can’t do it. You all can, but all I care about right now is saving Jennifer, not my faith. I don’t want to think about God.”
“You have to start now, Aidan. You have no choice.” Father Neal turned around in his seat to fix me with his piercing stare.
“Stop it.” I looked away from him. A direct look from Father Neal could put the fear of something, if not God, in anyone.
“It’s time to draw this poison out of you,” Olan said, grabbing my hand. I snatched it back.
“Maybe I don’t want it drawn. Maybe it isn’t poison to me.”
“It is. It has made you bitter, angry, and resentful. And full of doubt. Just like Thomas.” Father Neal kept looking at me. “Have you thought about the story like I told you?”
“No. Haven’t really had the time.” I avoided his eyes.
“You aren’t a very good liar, Aidan.”
I scowled. “We are driving as fast as we can to stop the murder of someone I … well, care about, and all you want to do is talk about faith and doubt. Can’t you save it for later?”
“No!” Father Neal thumped the console. “It must be now. Haven’t you seen enough to understand what we are up against? Nachash. The serpent. Does that penetrate through that thick Irish skull of yours?”
“So, we are fighting the Devil, are we now?”
“I don’t know about the Devil, but a devil. And that is bad enough.”
“How do we fight the Devil, oh head of wisdom?” I couldn’t keep the skeptic derision out of my voice.
“By belief, boy. That is why we must take out your doubt.”
“So, how are we going to do that? Is there some kind of operation?” I rolled my eyes.
“Thomas.”
“You keep saying that, so will you please explain yourself? I’m getting tired of the mysteries and hints.”
“Thomas the Doubter. You know the passage and the nature of his doubts,” Reg broke in, rubbing his chin.
3 Gates of the Dead (The 3 Gates of the Dead Series) Page 26