The Bridge (Para-Earth Series)

by Krummenacker, Allan

  “I’d tell her to take up bowling. It’s just as noisy as you, but at least the pins don’t talk back,” Roy growled. “Now where did you notice that odor?”

  Alex showed him the spot, “We were standing right here, and there was a breeze coming from that direction,” he pointed toward the slope leading down to the bridge.

  It was an ancient looking structure, made of stone and mortar. According to the background information the lawyers had provided him, it had stood there for three centuries exposed to the elements. Yet it looked almost new. No hint of ivy or moss could be found anywhere along its great length.

  As they stood there, Alex noted the railing was elaborately carved with thin openings to permit wind to pass through. The span of the bridge was just over 300 feet. It was wide enough to allow two cars to pass, though it probably was meant to accommodate two carriages back when it was built. Three great archways supported the entire structure from below, raising it some twenty feet above the wide stream, to compensate for rising waters when the snowpack melted in the Spring he suspected.

  “So when are you going to make an honest woman of my Second-in-Command?” asked Roy as they headed towards it.

  “I’ve tried,” Alex complained, putting his hands in his pockets and kicking at the ground like a little kid. “She keeps turning me down. She almost stopped seeing me because I kept asking. Luckily I managed to get her to agree to a compromise. I’m allowed to ask once a month and an extra one on my birthday and New Year’s.”

  “You two sound like Lord Peter Wimsey and Harriet Vane,” remarked his friend. “What about Christmas?”

  “If I ask on Christmas, I don’t get my special Yuletide treat,” Alex replied with heavenly look on his face.

  “Do I want to know?” asked Roy.

  “A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell.”

  “Is there one of those around here?” Peterson asked, looking around. “I’ve never seen one before.”

  “Not even in your own mirror?”

  “Knock that shit off,” Peterson snarled, “Every time you talk like that in front of the wife, she starts getting ideas.”

  Alex smiled but kept silent. He knew that in spite of his friend’s gruffness, the man was laughing down inside.

  The two of them had been going back and forth like this since they’d met back in New York. They’d become good friends rather quickly and had spent a fair amount of time together. It had been from Roy that he’d learned that his late grandmother had been one of the town’s more respected and cherished citizens.

  Constance Hill had been a strong voice in favor of good relations between the public and law enforcement. And every year she would throw open the doors of her private Ballroom to hold a “Policeman’s Ball”. He remembered attending one of them back when he was fourteen. Veronica had not been able to attend that one, from what he was told. But it had been after one of these gala affairs that she had started taking dance lessons from his grandmother.

  But alas, time had slowed his grandmother down and the lessons and the parties came to an end about ten years ago. However, the police had never forgotten her kindness. A patrol car always stopped in to check on her to make sure she was all right and if she needed anything.

  And now, he was planning to restart the tradition. The ballroom had been seriously neglected during the last few years of his grandmother’s life and it had taken time for him to get it back in shape. But now all was ready, and the entire town was eagerly looking forward to the event which was to take place in two months.

  He and Roy had just reached the stream when they spotted a figure carrying flowers walking onto the bridge from the other side. It was a tall man with extremely long iron-gray hair, high-cheekbones and reddish skin tone.

  ‘Native American?’ wondered Alex, as they watched the stranger reach the middle of the bridge. Once there the man leaned over the railing and began dropping the flowers, one by one, into the water below.

  Just then Roy called out, “Afternoon Jason.”

  The man looked up in surprise and greeted them warmly. “Chief Peterson. Good to see you. Is this a social call or police business?”

  “The second one I’m afraid,” Roy replied walking over to join him on the bridge. Automatically Alex fell into step behind him. There was something different about the man that he couldn’t quite put his finger on.

  “I’m looking into the deaths of a couple of teenagers,” his companion was saying.

  “The ones who died in the accident?” nodded the gray-haired man sadly. “I was very sorry to hear about it. They seemed so happy when I saw them that night…”

  “You saw them?” interrupted Roy in surprise.

  “They were here on the bridge, looking into the waters seeking answers,” Jason nodded, “Many young people come here at night for privacy you see. And since Mr. Graham always permitted this, I saw no reason to stop it after the heart attack put him in the hospital.”

  “Why didn’t you come and tell us about seeing them?” Roy demanded, pulling out a notepad and pencil. “I put a notice in the newspaper that we were looking for witnesses!”

  “I only returned from visiting my son in California this morning. I didn’t know about the accident or the notice until I read the paper a little while ago,” Jason explained.

  “I see,” Roy nodded. “So why the flowers, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  “I brought them to drop into the water as a memorial for them,” the older man replied. “They seemed so happy together when I left them here that night.”

  “Are you sure they were standing right here?” asked Roy.

  “Of course,” Jason nodded and looked down.

  Alex followed his gaze and saw they were standing near the large slab that marked the center of the bridge. It was elaborately decorated with strange signs and symbols that struck a chord inside him.

  “Ah I see,” said Roy making a note, “Do you remember what time that was?”

  “Around 9:00 o’clock. We spoke until 9:30 when my ride came to take me to the airport. I got the impression that they intended to stick around a little longer.”

  “I see,” Roy nodded and then asked, “Has anyone told you about Mr. Graham?”

  “Yes, the lawyers contacted me while I was in California, which is why I cut my visit short and came back so soon. In fact I just got home about an hour ago,” Jason sighed. “They told me the estate was going to be put up for sale. I’ve tended these grounds since I was a young boy, with my father. I would like to stay and continue my work here.” Here he paused and turned to Alex, “Do you think that would be possible, Mr. Hill?”

  Alex felt his eyebrows migrate to his hairline. Roy had not introduced him. So how did this man know his name and that he was the one handling the sale? “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

  “No, but your grandmother was a close friend. She spoke of you and your work quite often and loved to show photos of you,” Jason smiled. “So when the lawyers gave me your name, I knew exactly who you were.”

  “Ah,” Alex nodded pleased to have the mystery solved. Then holding out a hand he added, “It’s a pleasure to meet you mister…?

  “Cloudfoot, Jason Cloudfoot,” the fellow smiled and warmly took him by the wrist. Alex quickly returned the gesture. “Your grandmother was a wonderful woman and a good friend. She’d come and have tea with me and then we’d walk among the flower gardens. Perhaps you would like to take some to her and your grandfather before you leave. I know which ones were her favorites.”

  “Thank you, I would,” Alex replied warmly. He was pleased to see that in spite of his many years of working the grounds, the man did not have the bent spine that was typical of many a gardener. Nor did he...

  Roy suddenly cleared his throat in a very meaningful way.

  Taking the hint, Alex excused himself and wandered over to the other side of the bridge to be out of the way. His eyes travelled from one side of the stream the other. The scene was picturesque and tran
quil. So why was he feeling that same kind of wrongness that accompanied the chill he’d encountered at the Morgue?

  Looking down at the water below, he saw the flowers Jason had dropped over the side. They were roses and lilies. ‘A beautiful gesture,’ he thought and turned to look at his grandmother’s friend. The man wore an air of peace and calm, but something wasn’t right. ‘Why am I picking up on a sense of worry, beneath that relaxed demeanor?’ he wondered when a loud splash caught his attention. Peering back over the side of the bridge he immediately noticed there were ripples in the water and that some of the flowers were gone.

  Roy joined him. “Was that a fish making that racket? I didn’t know there were any around here.”

  “They’re fond of the insects that settle on the flowers I drop into the water,” Jason told them.

  “You drop flowers into the water often?” asked Roy curiously.

  The Native American nodded, “My people have always had a deep respect for nature and the waters that give so much. I feel it is only right to express gratitude.”

  Glancing back at the water, Alex was beginning to sense more than ever that something was not right. But before he could really focus on what it was, a large calloused hand touched his shoulder. Suddenly, an image of his Grandmother standing among the roses while Jason cut some of the blossoms for her, loomed large in his mind.

  “You wanted to take some roses to your Grandmother, didn’t you?” he heard Jason say as the hand left his shoulder.

  “Yes,” Alex replied without hesitation and followed the older man off the bridge and towards the garden. Now he knew for sure his new friend was not telling them everything, but oddly enough he trusted the man.

  Glancing over his shoulder he saw Roy had fallen behind and was taking a water sample from the stream. ‘Standard police investigation technique,’ he thought. But he already knew what the results would prove. The teens had died here, of that he was sure. The questions now were how and why?

  He was sure Jason had nothing to do with it. But, at the same time he also suspected the man knew more than he had told them. So why was he keeping quiet?

  “Your grandmother was particularly fond of these,” Jason told him as they reached the edge of the garden. “She will be very pleased when you bring them.”

  “Smiling down from heaven, Jason?” asked Roy catching up to them.

  “Love is a most powerful force, Chief. It can transcend even death,” Jason replied mysteriously. “It will always find a way, regardless of what tries to block its path.”

  Roy appeared skeptical. “Do you really believe that, Jason?”

  “Oh yes,” the groundskeeper replied straightening up and turned to face Alex. “It will even seek help from another to reach the one it seeks,” he added just as their eyes locked.

  Suddenly Alex found himself back in the elevator he’d told Ronnie about the other day, with his mother’s hand resting on his shoulder reassuringly. Then it was gone, and Jason was handing the blossoms to him saying, “I think you know what I mean.”

  “Yes, I do,” Alex replied taking the fragrant blooms.

  “He didn’t have anything to do with what happened to those kids,” commented Roy, as they drove back to the station.

  Alex nodded absently. Cloudfoot knows I’m psychic.

  “I know you’ll keep quiet about what we found out today,” Roy was saying casually, although it was clearly an order.

  “Of course,” Alex replied automatically. How did he know? Did Gran’ tell him?

  He missed Peterson looking at him curiously and only barely heard him say, “Veronica may be leaving the office late. She wanted you to feed the piranhas in the moat.”

  “That’s okay, I needed to get some meat for dinner anyway,” Alex muttered, as the questions mounted inside his head. Is something trying to reach out to me like he said?

  “I think she said they prefer veal.”

  “Fine, I’ll parmesan some for us and…” Alex began then stopped as the conversation finally caught up with him. “What piranhas?”

  “Welcome back to Earth,” his friend laughed, “Where was your mind? Out near Pluto?”

  “Venus actually, such lovely curves,” Alex replied easily.

  “Ah, sex on the brain,” Roy nodded. “No wonder my sergeant comes in every morning with a smile.”

  “I do my best to rise to the occasion whenever duty calls.”

  “And what if you’re too tired?”

  “I run the risk of eventually developing carpal tunnel syndrome,” Alex shrugged.

  Peterson roared with laughter at that, which left Alex free to once more explore everything that had happened. By the time they reached the station, he was still none the wiser.

  Interludes

  Jason Cloudfoot stood on the bridge and stared into the waters below. He held a single rose in one calloused hand. He never should’ve left. But, he had to see his new grandchild and her seven older siblings. How could he have known that as soon as he left events would be set in motion?

  “I’ll need help, I’m not as young as I used to be,” he told himself.

  He thought about Constance’s grandson. The boy had scars that could not be seen with the naked eye, but he’d spotted them right off. “He’s damaged and afraid. Do I dare drag him into this?” he murmured quietly.

  As if in answer to his question, the sound of a wet foot stepping onto the bridge reached his ears. He knew who it was, he always did. He turned and saw her standing at the end of the bridge watching him.

  Smiling he knelt down and held out the flower. “Hello little one…”

  Later that evening after a nice dinner, Veronica and Alex headed over to their private ballroom located a very short distance from their house. It was a huge room with three large chandeliers, one every 30 feet. Large windows looked out onto a rose garden with stone benches and a sundial. A fence separated the garden from an open field, beyond which stood the forest. And since the gate was always left open, animals from the forest would occasionally come into the garden to graze or explore.

  Tonight a white wolf silently came through the open gate and went over to one of the windows and sat. It gazed into the room where Alex could be seen putting some on some music.

  Setting the CD player for ‘random’, Alex stood up and walked over to the middle of the room where his lady waited. The first song to come up was a slow one and they began a sensuous Rumba.

  After a few minutes Ronnie said, “Roy said to tell you thanks for helping out this afternoon when you took him back to the Graham place.”

  Sensing something was really weighing on her mind Alex said, “Just doing my civic duty. Did he already get that water sample tested yet?”

  It was the wrong thing to say. He felt Veronica’s frame stiffen, which was not good for a dance that was meant to be sensual and sultry. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he murmured and decided to change tactics. “I got to meet the groundskeeper. He seemed like a nice fellow.”

  “Jason? Yeah he is,” she replied a little stiffly.

  “Apparently he knew my grandmother,” he continued, “The two of them used to visit each other quite a bit.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Veronica remarked, “He and his family have been taking care of those grounds for years from what I understand.”

  “Really? Well then it’s a good thing I told him I’d make sure whoever bought the place kept him on,” he told her.

  “Are you sure you can keep that promise?”

  “Considering how Cassandra seems to have fallen in love with the place, I’d say yes,” he replied and immediately regretted it. Veronica stopped dancing and wandered over to one of the big windows.

  After a moment she said quietly, “I don’t think she should buy it.”

  “I see,” he nodded, “those kids did drown there.”

  “That’s a police matter,” his lady replied coldly.

  Thinking quickly Alex tried a different tact. “You know, as the realtor
I can try to keep the place off the market for a while.”

  She finally turned and looked at him curiously. “Really?” she asked.

  “Yes, but I’ll have to come up with a good reason. The lawyers for the estate are really eager to see it sold.”

  “Understandable,” Ronnie nodded as she appeared to think about this. Then she said, “About how long do you think you can stall them?”

  “A week or two.”

  “What about longer?”

  Alex shook his head, “I’m not sure. And even then, I still have to ‘appear’ to be actively trying to sell the property. You know, showing the place to prospective buyers and whatnot. If I stall too much they may just get someone else to sell it. Why?”

  “We’d rather not have too many people going near that place at the moment. But if we must, at least with you handling the sale we can control who goes there and when.”

  Alex could sense that she really wanted was to keep him away from it. “What’s going on, Luv? Why has this case got you so rattled?” he asked quietly.

  Veronica whirled on him and snapped, “Two dead kids are seen driving a vehicle that later crashes! Then that same vehicle fills with mysterious water while one of my coworkers is trapped inside of it, killing him. Then you go and find the source of that water on the grounds of a place you’re supposed to be showing off to prospective buyers, meaning you’d be going back there again and again. What’s there for me to be NOT worried about?”

  So the water sample had proved the kids had drowned at the stream. But, before he could think about the implications, he noticed Veronica had turned away again and now her shoulders were starting to shake. Immediately he went over to her saying, “Please, Luv, don’t…”

  “I don’t want you to land up like Chase,” she interrupted without looking at him. “I’ve dealt with a lot of things over the years. Domestic violence, robberies, drugs, abandoned babies, rape, child molestation, you name it. But, there was always something real and tangible that I could do something about. This case is starting to not feel like that. It feels different, very different.”