They pulled up to the library. It was a large, red brick structure that resembled a fallout shelter more than an institute of learning. The construction aside, it was very functional and held thousands of books. He’d visited there many times, although not to investigate anything of this magnitude. For all he knew, this evil he’d stumbled upon could involve more than just the LePrades; it could very well affect the whole town. It was an earth-shattering realization that was only now beginning to sink in. Taking a deep breath, he firmed his resolve, then stepped from the car.
The day was mild but growing increasingly warmer. That was the way of things this close to the desert: freezing cold at night, and hotter than hell during the day. Thinking back, however, he was surprised to realize the weather had been unusually chilly for this time of year. Normally, it got up into the nineties on the average. This season, it was still a brisk sixty-nine degrees, the wind seeming to hang on and regroup as it forced its way through the streets, sometimes howling well into the night like a beast of prey stalking out new territory. It was a very disturbing thought that added to his growing sense of unease. There was something strange going on in Plentsville, and he was right in the middle of it. It gave him an almost uncontrollable urge to cut out of there, just drive away and never look back.
“Okay, Doc, once we get inside, we’ll research the news archives, then try to access the town records. It could be tricky if they’re sticklers for protocol, but it should at least give us plenty of room for speculation. At least it’ll be a start.”
Gazing at Terry, he knew he couldn’t run from this; she was counting on him. Also, there was Robin to consider, and perhaps the safety of the entire town. Like it or not, he was going to have to play the hero for a while.
He found that he did not like it at all.
8
The interior of the library was as spacious as the exterior suggested. Rows upon rows of bookshelves stood at rigid attention, the soldiers of knowledge waiting to serve in mankind’s never-ending battle to learn. Moving through the heavy silence of the lobby, they approached the desk where Mrs. Howards was on duty, her graying hair pulled back into a severe bun. She peered at them over her horn-rimmed glasses with a face as sour as day-old lemons. It would seem that she didn’t approve. Then again, she hadn’t approved of much of anything for as long as Williams could remember. He tried to keep his temper in check; it wouldn’t do any good to antagonize the old busybody. Flashing a smile that did not quite reach his eyes, he greeted her with a strained civility.
“Ah, hello, Mrs. Howards. We’d very much like to see the newspaper archives, please.”
“Won’t do you any good,” she replied tartly.
Wincing, he tried again. “But surely it’s okay for my associate and I to look over the back-dated news files? We won’t be need –”
“I said it won’t do you any good,” she cut in. “Mr. Volendorf, the archivist, is out of town. He has the only other key.”
“The only other key?” he prompted.
“Well, of course, being the head librarian, I retain copies of all the keys to the premises, from the town records on down to the storage lockers. But Mr. Volendorf is in charge of that department, and he won’t be back until Monday. I’m terribly sorry, but you’ll just have to wait until he returns.”
“But surely you can –”
“Certainly not! Dr. Williams, you don’t think I would break library policy just so you and your... assistant... can search through some old newspaper files, do you?”
“Mrs. Howards,” he began again, starting to lose his patience.
“Let me handle this,” Terry whispered, easing past him.
Facing the desk, she stared the older woman straight in the eyes. “Mrs. Howards, you are the head librarian, correct?”
“Yes, but –”
“And part of your duties as the librarian is to facilitate the access of resource material to people like us with a legitimate reason to be here?”
“Well, of course, but –”
Softening her voice, she reached across and took one of the old woman’s hands. “Then please allow us to go through the news archives, just this once. I assure you the information we seek is vital and it’s imperative that we get to it today.”
“Well,” the old woman sniffed, glancing down at the hands now encircling her own. “Since you put it that way, maybe I can bend the rules a little just this one time. Come with me, and I’ll show you where the microfiche room is located.”
Following her through the maze of towering bookshelves, they reached the back of the library and descended a carpeted stairwell. The lighting was irregular and dim in the musty corridors of the lower levels, and Williams stifled a sneeze as he followed after the two women. It wasn’t long before they came to a door labeled ‘Archives’.
Using the master key, she unlocked it, then turned to them. “Now, you best be about your business and leave quietly afterwards. I’ll tolerate no shenanigans in my library!” With that, she gave them such a look of reproach that it made him feel like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar.
“Wait,” Terry said as she turned to go. “What about the town records; we’ll need the keys for those as well...”
“Don’t push your luck, little missy!” came the vehement response. “Those require the proper forms and the proper clearance, of which you have neither.”
Terry gave a low growl of frustration as the librarian stalked away. With a small shrug and a roll of her eyes, she entered the room, moving her hand along the wall to click on the lights.
The hall of archives was immense. All along the back wall rested the microfiche storage indexes and, off to the left, stood locked cabinets containing the town records. In the center of the chamber were several large tables, two microfiche readers, and about a dozen or so chairs. To their right, up against the other wall, was a cluttered desk that probably belonged to the archivist.
Williams gave her a sardonic smile. “This may take a while...”
“Yup,” she replied, grimacing as she glanced around. “This should just about eat up our entire afternoon.”
“You know, you’re pretty impressive. I can’t believe you got that old hag to let us in here.”
Terry flashed him a dazzling smile, running a smooth hand back across her thick, dark hair. “Well, when you’ve got it...” she drawled, arching an eyebrow.
He gaped at her and she burst out laughing.
“Come on, Doc! Didn’t you see me slipping her the fifty?”
His blank stare turned to one of open disbelief. “You bribed Mrs. Howards?”
“You bet I did, bud. When you’ve got to get somewhere fast, sometimes it pays to grease the wheels, know what I mean? Now, let’s get started. You go through the newspaper files and try to find something we can use, and I’ll go through the town records.”
“But we didn’t get the keys,” he protested.
Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a nail file. “I’ve got the keys right here,” she stated, a dangerous twinkle in her eyes. “I grew up with four older brothers. You can learn a lot of useful stuff from being the youngest and watching all the troubles your siblings get into.”
She threw him a challenging glance, as if to say ‘you got a problem with that?’ He didn’t. Instead, he found himself grinning like a fool.
“You’re absolutely amazing,” he breathed.
“Is that your professional or personal opinion, Doctor?” she inquired playfully.
He felt his face grow flush. “A little of both, I guess. No offense?”
“None taken. You’re pretty amazing yourself. Now, let’s get moving; I don’t want to spend any more time down here than we have to. There’s no telling when that horrid old biddy will show back up, and I want to be long gone before that happens!”
He felt a little lightheaded at her compliment, but wasted no time in hunkering down to the job at hand. They searched through endless racks and cabinets of mostly useless i
nformation, and he was almost up to the current year in the news files when she suddenly flopped down across the table from him. Her normally sunny expression had faded and several strands of hair had come loose to hang about her face. With a barely suppressed yawn, he leaned his elbows on the table and peered across at her.
Easing back a little in her seat, she cracked her neck and then stretched a bit. “Well,” she said at last, “did you find anything?”
“A lot more than I expected, but not much of any use,” he replied, gesturing down at the stacks of microfiche spread out before him. “There have been reports of missing persons and unsolved murders, but no mention of anything like what I’ve experienced. And none of this other stuff seems to be connected. Or at least not connected in any concrete way...”
Leaning toward him, she gave an impatient wave of her hand. “Anything could be important. Even the weakest link could be the start of a chain. Tell me what you’ve got, Doc.”
“Well, there is this one thing...” He hesitated, not wanting to contemplate the significance of what he’d found, but realizing it could be their only lead. Clearing his throat, he plunged on. “I took down the locations of all the murders and unexplained events. It’s most likely coincidental, but they all happened in the areas surrounding that graveyard. There were even a couple of letters to the editor complaining about all the strange goings-on up at that place. Unfortunately, it’s all privately owned and the owners seem likely to remain anonymous.”
Sniffing, she leaned back again, folding her arms across her chest. “You’re right; that is pretty weak. That parcel of land has been around for so long that it probably marks the true center of town before the community expanded. This uptown portion was all built pretty recently.” Sighing, she reached up to massage her forehead. “I came up empty too; there just isn’t anything suspicious in the town records. Long story short, it’s all pretty standard information for a town of this size. I did come across the name that’s on the deed to that graveyard property; it was originally owned, and still is as far as I can tell, by the Jedidiah family. The land started out as a homestead and, after a time, became the town graveyard. The current owners aren’t listed, of course, but one of the last ones is. His name was ‘Ezekial P. Jedidiah”
Having grown more and more uneasy as she rattled on, his face suddenly went slack in dawning realization. Sweat beaded his forehead as he felt the room begin to spin out of focus.
“Hey, Doc! What’s wrong? You’ve gone all pasty-faced on me. What the devil is the matter?”
Clearing his throat and trying to work some saliva back into his overly dry mouth, he choked out a reply. “Jedidiah... I... I know that name...”
She stared at him, concern coloring her features as she reached across to steady him.
“That name – It’s the name of my patient’s husband. The Jedidiah part, I mean. LePrade is a maiden name; it’s the name that Carol went back to after the loss of her husband. Ms. LePrade was married to an Ezra Jedidiah.”
It was Terry’s turn to look shaken. “Oh my God,” she whispered, “how did he die?”
“I don’t really know; she’s a fairly new patient and hasn’t begun to comfortably open up to me as yet. But I bet we’re going to find out before all this is over.”
As the importance of the discovery sank in, his head was swimming with half-formed speculations. They now had a connection, however tenuous, but what did it all mean? Could the series of unexplained events have anything to do with his patient’s deceased husband? And, if so, how was Robin involved? Whatever the case may be, this did not bode well for their investigation. Well, they hadn’t come this far expecting it to be easy; they’d come here searching for information that could point them in the right direction. It was the possible ramifications of this newfound knowledge that worried him. Now that they had a possible connection, what was their next move?
All at once a memory struggled up from the depths of his mind, something that had been subconsciously nagging at him all day.
“Nathrotep,” he whispered.
“What?”
“Nathrotep. It’s one of the words that Robin used when she was... possessed. She kept repeating it, chanting it. I don’t know what it could mean.”
“Nathrotep,” Terry mused, scratching her chin as she gazed at the ceiling. “It could be some type of cult reference. Let’s head over to the metaphysical shop across town and see if we can find out what it means. They have books over there that I seriously doubt we can find in this library. Come to think of it, now that we know the graveyard has a history, and that the LePrade’s are somehow involved, maybe we should check out that abandoned house as well...”
Recoiling in surprise, he almost fell right off the chair. The last thing he wanted to do was go exploring up at that graveyard in the dark of night! She noticed his reaction and broke off what she was saying to give him a reassuring grin.
“Don’t worry, Doc – We’re not going near that place tonight. Let’s just gather all the information we can find and then get some rest. Tomorrow, if we think we still need to, we’ll go have a look then, okay? We might find something useful up there; you never know.”
9
The store was a squat, rectangular building covered in peeling paint and moss-covered shingles. It was an unusual location for a shop, being situated at the top of a hill on the far side of town, but it was far enough from the graveyard for Williams to relax a little. Pulling up to the curb, he turned off the engine, squinting up at the dilapidated structure.
“Well, it doesn’t appear its open,” Terry said. “But let’s go up and at least see what the sign says.”
They climbed the rickety, wooden stairs leading to the battered front door. A hand-painted sign informed them that the place was called, ‘The Source’. Raising an eyebrow at the colorful name, Williams tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. He opened it for Terry, then followed her into the shadowy interior.
Tall racks of books stood in the middle of a cramped room, while glass cases along the walls displayed all manner of occult paraphernalia. Letting his eyes adjust to the dim lighting, Williams moved toward the counter, trying not to breathe the cloying, incense-heavy air too deeply. Strange and somewhat bizarre items fought each other for shelf space, seeming to clamor for his attention as he moved between the rows.
He was studying a jar that contained what appeared to be a pickled cat, when the proprietor walked through an archway in the back. He was a swarthy man, balding and overweight, his remaining hair a tangle of greasy, black curls. The robe he wore made it seem like he’d been getting ready for bed.
“How you all doing this evening?” His voice rumbled with just a hint of a southern drawl. “The name’s Jarrod. I was just about to close up fer the night, but is there something I can help you folks with?”
Eyes glistening in the flickering fluorescent lighting, he stepped up behind the counter, surveying them with unfeigned curiosity. As Terry moved forward, his gaze slid across her and he gave a low whistle of appreciation.
“Ma’am, you are the best-looking customer this ole shop has ever done seen. Begging your pardon, but I do mean that in the nicest possible way...”
His grin was bone white and large, crinkling up his face like a layered sponge cake. Williams stifled an angry retort; at least the man had good taste.
“Sorry to bother you so late,” he began, “but we’re in need of some information. We’re hoping you can help us?”
“Shucks, son,” came the jovial reply. “Go ahead and ask, and I’ll give it a shot. I know quite a bit from running this here shop over the years, so you just tell me what you’re looking fer, and I’ll see if I can oblige you.”
“Can you tell us the significance of the word, ‘Nathrotep’?” Terry asked.
For a brief moment, Williams thought he saw a flicker of fear slide across the bulky man’s features. Then, it was gone, replaced by a disarmingly toothy grin.
“Nathrotep, you say. Wel
l, I ain’t heard that one in years! Of course, it does have significance. The question is, do you really want to know? No, no... don’t answer that; it ain’t none of my business. I don’t even want to know why you want to know.”
Turning to the shelves behind him, he rummaged around, and then took down a large book bound in crumbling leather. As he turned back, his eyes roved over them with intense scrutiny. Still, he didn’t comment as he began flipping through the crinkled, yellow pages. Williams glanced at Terry to see if she was catching the proprietor’s strange reaction to their request. She caught his eyes and gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head.
“Hmm, let’s see here,” the man said, scanning a page. “Yes, here it is – ‘Nyarlathotep.’ Pretty nasty creature if ever I saw one. You all sure you want to hear this? Yes, yes of course; I can see that you do.” He paused, taking a deep breath, then continued. “This here’s a very dangerous entity. It’s said he can manifest himself in over a thousand different ways –”
“But what exactly is he?” Terry broke in.
“What you all got yourself here is one major, old-world deity, folks. I don’t know what you two is wrapped up in, but, iff’n I was you, I’d run the other way. You don’t want to be messing around with anything associated with this; it just ain’t safe.”
His piercing gaze made the hairs on the back of Williams’ neck stand up. The man was trying to warn them off, that much was obvious, but what he was telling them sounded like complete nonsense. Only now, after what he’d witnessed with the LePrade girl, he was willing to consider any information, however outlandish, that might be of some use to their investigation.
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