The Promise

by Patrick Hurley

  Elie piped up, “No.”

  The detective frowned at her, “Of course, you wouldn’t know, you weren’t even born yet.

  He said, ‘Follow the money.’

  Meaning, if you trace the donations made by the Republican donors, you will be able to build a case for a conspiracy which could lead back to the break-in and eventually the cover-up by the President.

  He was absolutely right, too.”

  Elie dripping with sarcasm, “So, you want me to start investigating Republican donors?”

  Gallagher laughed, “To the moon, Alice.

  Not quite, but, if Allison did run away, she would have to do it with money. You can’t live your life without a means to support it. We need to check her bank accounts, her ATM card, phone credit card and anything that would enable her to live on her own.

  That, at the very least would eliminate Elie’s theory that Allison voluntarily disappeared to start a new life. I have a feeling in my brain that her cards were not used and neither were her bank accounts and, most importantly, Mick happens to agree with me.

  Don’t you, buddy!”

  Elie rolled her eyes. “Her cards have not been used. Neither have her bank accounts. I checked that during the first week.”

  Gallagher stood his ground, “Good work, Larsen but, I think that proves my point that her disappearance was involuntary.”

  But, Elie was not convinced, “She could have built up a sizeable nest egg of cash before she disappeared, Mike. If she planned this, she had time to do that surreptitiously.

  Also, not to burst your bubble or anything, she was a very smart girl and she could have taken just enough money to disappear and gone to a god-forsaken place in the middle of nowhere, gotten a job and lived happily, and invisibly, ever after.”

  Gallagher smiled, “Elie, I’m a stubborn guy! There may be other financial records you haven’t checked out, yet!” Pressing the intercom buzzer, “Yeah, records? Get me financial files on Allison Lynne Taylor, case number 6593003-3.

  Get back to me, thanks!”

  Elie glared at him.

  The detective shrugged his shoulders, “We could both be right. Chill out, lacrosse girl.”

  Chief Parker asked the question of the day, “So, the two of you are at odds as to what really happened to the Taylor girl at this point in the investigation?

  Gallagher averred, “If you want my hunch, I’m going with The Promise and a kidnapping for revenge.”

  Elie responded, “I’m sticking to my running away theory. I think she’s a whack job!”

  Gallagher paused and looked at his lucky leprechaun, “Mick believes Allison was taken out, that she did not disappear voluntarily.

  We are leaning towards the fact that she’s already dead. We are guessing it was done by someone who knew her and was either angry enough to kill her or needed her out of the way for their own purposes. We are hoping we are wrong

  Right, little buddy?”

  Elie stood up, “Gee, I wish I had an insightful stuffed animal to talk to.”

  Chief Parker laughed, “Well, we are all going to have an insightful animal to talk to, but he won’t be stuffed. The FBI profiler, Mel Grady, is coming to see us. His insights may be invaluable in this case…”

  Elie laughed, “He is a she, Melinda Grady. She’s one of the best. You’ll like her Gallagher. She is a trivia nut, too.”

  Gallagher was not smiling. “Chief, I don’t think we need all this.”

  Parker disagreed, “Put aside your ego, Mike. We need all the help we can get here. Grady sounds good to me.”

  Elie laughed, “Evidently, Gallagher can’t handle two smart women, just a stuffed mini-me of himself.”

  The detective just shook his head.

  With that, the meeting ended.

  Chapter Thirty-two--the media heats Up

  As Gallagher made his way to the stairs, he was confronted by a face he had seen on television many times before. The man he was looking at was not a local personality, but an international media star known for his bulldog tenacity and sensational story lines.

  He was not always right with the facts, but, there was no denying his ability to garner attention wherever he went.

  He was a police investigation’s worst nightmare.

  “Are you Michael Gallagher, the detective in charge of the Allison Taylor disappearance?”

  Gallagher looked away for a moment. He could feel his temperature rising. “That’s right.”

  “I’m Dax Rambo. INN.

  I have a couple of questions for you, detective.”

  He motioned to his cameraman to join him for the interview. Gallagher was in no mood to put up with this level of egomaniacal media at the moment.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Rambo. Gotta run, following up a lead.”

  Rambo walked alongside him, “A lead? Does it have anything to do with the suicide of the headmaster at the Colony?”

  The detective corrected him, “Assistant headmaster. Have a nice day…”

  The reporter was relentless, “Is Malcolm Oden’s death related in any way to Allison Taylor’s disappearance, Mr. Gallagher?”

  “No comment.”

  Another question, “Is there any truth to the rumor that Allison Taylor and Oden were lovers?”

  Gallagher stopped and glared at him. “What a disgusting comment. Turn that damn camera off!”

  Rambo pressed further, “We have it on background that Allison Taylor and Malcolm Oden took a weekend trip together, just the two of them.

  Any comment on that?’

  “Yeah, I don’t believe it.”

  “Detective, if it is true that they went to Hilton Head together last April, would that information be helpful to you in your case?”

  “Any factual information about Allison Taylor is helpful.”

  Rambo pressed him, “Could her relationship with Dr. Oden be the reason she ran away?”

  Gallagher stopped and turned to face the reporter, “We are not treating this case as a runaway. We are considering this a criminal investigation. Allison Taylor has a good reputation. I am not going to besmirch her name on rumors and innuendo. Now, leave me alone, Mr. Rambo.”

  The reporter was undeterred, “One more question, detective. Is there a possibility that Allison Taylor is alive on Oden’s houseboat at St. Simon’s Island? She had stayed there on more than one occasion and we have seen someone coming and going in and out of that boat for the past two weeks, a young female.”

  Gallagher thought his head might explode. “Could this be true? Was Allison Taylor making a fool out of all of them?”

  “We will check that out, Rambo. Appreciate the help.”

  He reached his car, got in and drove away leaving the reporter standing in the parking lot with his cameraman.

  Dax Rambo was smiling broadly as he watched Gallagher drive away.

  Chapter Thirty-three--where’s Verna?

  As Elie lay in her bed, she had trouble sleeping due to her missing roommate.

  But, as the night wore on there was no sign of Verna.

  Morning dawned and the bed across the room was as empty as it had been the previous night and day. Elie discreetly asked students if any of them had seen Verna, to no avail.

  As the day wore on, and her roommate didn’t show up, Elie went into town and asked questions there.

  At Maggie Moo’s, one of Verna’s favorite hangouts, the mystery continued. She found Samantha, Raven’s friend, sitting in one of the booths and sat down beside her. “You haven’t seen Verna today, by any chance have you, Sam?”

  Samantha innocently responded, “No, I haven’t seen her for a couple of days, actually, have you talked to Raven?”

  Elie shook her head, “Not lately, she and I are not the best of friends. We seem to rub each other the wrong way.”

  “Well, if I hear anything, I’ll let you know, okay?”

  “Thanks, Sam, take care of you. Bye!”

  Heading back to the room, Elie stopped at
the drug store and picked up some extra-strength Tylenol. Her headaches were back and it was probably due to the concussion she suffered that fateful night with Dr. Oden.

  She had relived it, courtesy of some vivid nightmares, and hoped the medication would help her sleep. That evening, she did some homework for her western civilizations class and wrote a paper on, “The Value of Girl’s Physical Education.” It was almost midnight when she turned in and soon after was deep in sleep.

  It felt good to finally rest.

  Elie was awakened about an hour later by a knock on her door. By the time she cleared her head, flipped on her lowlight and asked who it was, she looked down and saw a piece of paper that had been slid under the door.

  She opened it and read,

  If you want to know what happened to Verna. Get dressed and meet me at the base of the old radio station. Raven.

  Elie thought for a moment as she debated this invitation. She didn’t fully trust Raven, yet, she didn’t think the girl was dangerous, either. She was just tactless.

  So, she dressed, packed her gun and pepper spray and quietly left the room in the middle of the night. She thought about calling for backup on her cell phone, but decided it might complicate things if the officers on duty were not careful and blew her cover.

  She decided to go at alone.

  Arriving at the old radio station, about a mile away from the school, she waited in the dark. Soon, she saw a flashlight beaming on and off. She moved towards it. It was a girl she recognized from one of her classes. “What’s going on? Where’s Verna?” she asked her.

  The girl just motioned for Elie to follow her. Unspeaking she led her down a path, into the woods and to what appeared to be an abandoned mine shaft. As the girl entered and looked back at her, Elie stopped abruptly.

  “I don’t think so,” she hesitated, “This doesn’t feel right to me. I don’t miss my roommate that much.”

  At that point, two more girls came out of the mine shaft area, one of them was Samantha.

  “It’s okay, Elie, it’s me. Don’t be afraid. We have something special to show you.”

  As Elie tentatively followed the three girls into the mine shaft she was surprised to see it had a fake front.

  The girls pulled back the wooden panel and stepped forward. Entering it revealed a classic interior, much like a long hallway inside a gothic mansion. Moving down the hallway the girls progressed until there was an alcove on the right side.

  There, the three girls took off the outer coats they had been wearing and revealed full-length red robes with cowls. They led Elie to the end of the hallway on the right into a room filled with incense and hundreds of candles.

  It reminded her of a large séance. Except, there was not a spirit to talk to, rather it was Raven who stood in the center dressed in a deep purple robe, chanting a language Elie did not recognize.

  And, at the front of the chamber was her roommate, Verna Oden, suspended by ropes and pulleys in the air above them. She was looking down at them without any expression.

  Elie’s heart stopped. Was she dead? Drugged? Acting? Before she pulled out her weapon and busted the entire group, she had to be sure…

  As Raven continued her verbal mantra, Elie looked around for familiar faces.

  She recognized several of her classmates and counted twenty-three girls.

  She also noted that Allison Taylor was not present at the meeting. She kept looking up at Verna to see if there was any sign of life in her. Nothing. Still the agent followed her instincts and kept her cool…

  Raven finally stopped talking in an unintelligible language and began communicating in English.

  What was creepy before, suddenly become even more bizarre as the dark black-haired beauty proceeded to enlighten everyone.

  “Oh, heavenly god Odin, creator of war, poetry, magic, wisdom, inspiration and death; it is I, Raven and your loyal subjects of The Promise.

  We worship you and ask you to join us in this night of service and submission to you. You are our Master, our Enlightenment, our reason to live. We are your humble servants, bonded together as friends and soul mates, committed to each other in your spirit.

  We are gathered here tonight to make our Promise to you. We know what you are asking of us and we are in agreement to fulfill it to the point of eternal loyalty and service until death do us part from each other but in you, oh mighty god.”

  Elie was trying to stay sane and resisting her instincts to start shooting, beginning with the freak in the purple robe.

  But, discretion overruled her emotions and she stayed as still as a statue hoping she would not be called upon. All she could think of was the expression on Gallagher’s face when she told him in the morning.

  Assuming she would still be alive the next morning.

  At that point, Raven turned and looked at her. She motioned Elie to approach the altar area. Slowly, the undercover agent gently stepped closer and closer to the altar.

  Her heart was pounding and her eyes were completely focused on the group’s leader. Raven smiled as Elie got close to her,

  “Are you ready to partake in The Promise, Bree?” she asked. “Do not be afraid, Odin is here. He will protect you. Just do what I say and follow him.

  Are you ready?”

  Nodding her head yes, Elie waited for her instruction. What Raven said next chilled her soul to the very core.

  “Verna is dead, Bree.

  She wants you to bring her back to life with a kiss. It is time.”

  Elie watched in horror as they lowered Verna’s body slowly down the ropes. As the corpse got closer, she could see her roommate’s greenish-colored skin and bluish-hued lips.

  Kiss her?

  Transfixed, she was led to the body and as she was positioned only inches away from her, Elie could smell death.

  Her stomach began to turn queasy. She could feel her throat tightening. Her own skin began to rise up and crawl all over the nerve endings in her body.

  Dampness and moisture suddenly began swelling up under her arms and on her neck. Her head felt light and she felt like fainting. Verna’s dead eyes were open and staring at her.

  And, as Elie was transfixed on the countenance of her roommate, it abruptly transformed into the face of Allison Taylor.

  The missing girl began chanting a mantra to her,

  “I’m dead. Find me. I’m dead. Find me. I’m dead…”

  Raven smiled evilly and said, “Yes, Elie, she’s dead. And, she will never be with her father again. Just like you.”

  Just as quickly, Allison’s face was gone.

  It wasn’t Allison after all. It was the face of a man. A face she recognized.

  Unsmiling he looked at her and spoke clearly. ”It’s your father, Elie. Do you ever miss me? I know you feel bad that I’m gone. I am here my little girl…”

  Elie’s eyes got really big, ”Daddy? Is it really you! I am so sorry!”

  She reached out for him and there was nothing there. Raven began laughing in a mocking tone, followed by the other girls. They pointed at Elie and began chanting in unison,

  “Dead daddy, dead daddy, dead daddy dead.”

  Elie suddenly shot up in her bed covered in perspiration. She was heaving huge gulps of air and shaking uncontrollably.

  The wind outside her room was causing the trees to sway and the shadows seemed to be reaching out to her. Were they coming for her?

  She scrambled out of bed, turned on all the lights and collapsed against the wall, slowly sliding downward to the tile floor and crying hysterically.

  At that moment having a fatal heart attack would have been a relief for the girl from Chicago.

  She sat there awake and frozen in place until the sun came up the next morning. She dared not sleep again that night.

  She dreaded what the next dream would bring.

  Chapter Thirty four --Evidence

  “Gallagher, we have a confirmation from the lab,” reported Officer Simpson.

  The detective wh
irled around in his desk chair and looked up hopefully, “Yeah?”

  “That blonde hair sample we found wrapped around the locket on the sidewalk by the library is Allison Taylor’s and the black hair belongs to Raven Williams. Add her raven necklace and the poem, ‘Nevermore’ and you have your first “person of interest.” Maybe you should call her in for an interview, Mike.”