Into the Light

by Bernard Burgess

  Traversing the high mountain pass which separated Livingston and Bozeman, Becky soon dropped down the descending western side to the college town of Bozeman, home to Montana State University. If she had more time, she’d love to browse through the Museum of the Rockies and look at the T. Rex exhibitions in the Siebel Dinosaur Complex. She wouldn’t have the time, though, if she had any hope of making it to Boise tomorrow after her meeting with Finegan. Tonight, she would find a motel with a gym and try for a long overdue workout. After that, she might brave the cold temperature and get a beer somewhere.

  ***

  Bert gave Missy her usual walk on this Wednesday morning. They were getting used to the cold mornings there, but this morning was much more intense. The storm had hit with its full fury during the early morning and the wind driven, heavy snow made it nearly impossible to keep Missy in view as she scoured the drifts. The temperature had fallen into the single digits. With the wind chill, it felt like somewhere around minus fifteen to twenty. Bert cut the walk short to about fifteen minutes this morning. Missy didn’t seem to mind as she faced into the wind on the way back to the doghouse, her thick winter coat plastered in sweeping patterns against her body. Bert pulled his parka tight around his face to keep the wind from blowing it off his head. The snow stung his eyes and he had to go in the general direction of the vehicle, taking brief glances to find his way. The wind direction was his chief navigation aid, and he knew if he kept the wind from his left front, he’d get back to the road. Eventually the ghostly shape of the parked vehicle began to take shape.

  Back in the motel room, he discussed the weather conditions with Norah. They were beginning to strategize about their day’s plan when Becky called from Red Lodge.

  Bert happily took her call. She was always so upbeat and enthusiastic that she was like breathing fresh air. She really was a lot like Norah, who was always a light in his life.

  After the initial discussion of the weather at both locations and a review of her case, he shared Norah’s sense that Summer was probably not psychic. Norah did stress that she couldn’t be certain of that, though, since there seemed to be no other explanation for the unusual things going on with the child. Bert told Becky about the catholic church which seemed to somehow be at the center of the mystery in Nebraska City. He texted her a couple more pictures as they talked.

  Bert was concerned about the apparent investigator who seemed to be doing a surveillance on Summer. He knew they couldn’t now be sure of who the guy was watching, or why. Norah had an uneasy feeling about him. That concerned Bert, because she was usually right.

  Becky threw him a curve ball, when she asked if he was a medium. He glanced at Norah, who nodded. They both knew the question was going to come up and they would have to eventually tell her about the situation. Bert was putting it off in the fear that it might drive Becky away at the very time when they needed her. Something like this had to come to light at the right time.

  They discussed Becky’s concerns about Pastor Finegan and compared ideas. They all concluded that she had to be very careful so as not to compromise Lizzie’s trust. If he didn’t already know about Summer, she couldn’t let him find out, at least not from her.

  Regarding Father DelFranco, Bert told Becky, “If you think you can make it to Boise safely and soon, it would sure help us. There’s reason to think that someone in the congregation might have been involved in the disappearance of the two women here. If the Father had suspicions, he might have been killed to silence him. His death feels suspicious.”

  “I think I can head out later this afternoon, possibly,” Becky said. “The weather is already starting to break here. Bozeman is on the way and I can check on Finegan as I go. Might be to Boise by tomorrow night.”

  “That would be great, Becky. We think that DelFranco may be one of the keys to solving our case here. The circumstances of his death could possibly shed some light on what he may have known or suspected. We’ll do some calling around and see if we can find any people who might know details about his passing.”

  “I’m thrilled to be able to assist you, Bert and Norah,” Becky said. “I can actually use the break to collect my thoughts on how to proceed with this Red Lodge case. I think my brain is about to mutiny. I’m feeling like I’ve run out of rabbits to chase.”

  Bert offered her some words of wisdom. “Sometimes, if looking at a problem from the top isn’t working, try looking at it from the bottom.”

  He could almost hear her replaying his words before she answered. “You know,” she said, “that is so wise. I’ll give that some thought and see if I can look at this through different eyes. I see why you’re the boss.” She laughed. “Goodbye for now. I’ll let you know what I can find out.”

  After closing his phone, Bert looked at Norah. He didn’t have to say anything. She knew he saw the similarities between Becky’s wit and her own. She didn’t mind that Bert liked this new woman; Norah liked her, too.

  He glanced out the partly frosted motel window at the swirling snow. The cars in the parking area were barely visible at the far side of the lot. It would be a day to figure out how to pursue this case.

  “Norah, my Love,” he said, “where do you think we need to go next?”

  She also gazed out the window at the stormy scene, which faded into a ghostly white. “Well, that wind might even blow me away today,” she laughed. “Not a good day to go back to that church, but I’m sensing that our answers are there, somehow, somewhere.”

  “I believe you’re right, Love, all roads seem to converge at the Holy Mother Church. Both were parishioners there, at least at one time. Janice’s spirit seems to be stuck there. Her husband evidently believed she was mixed up with an unknown someone there. You have recurring visions as if looking from the altar across the congregation. There’s the strange death of Father DelFranco after leaving here. Did he know or suspect something and was he killed to silence him? Hopefully, Becky can shed some light on that.”

  “The one thing that still bothers me most is that vision of a portal. I just don’t know what it could represent and whether it pertains to our case or Red Lodge,” she said. “Whatever it is, it feels very sinister.”

  “Babe, I sure agree. The way you describe it, it can’t represent anything good. For this stormy day, I’m thinking we should focus our efforts on the church. See what all we can find out about it. Any better idea, Sweetheart?”

  “No,” she replied. “The church is somehow a player in these disappearances. I’m getting the strong sense of that.”

  “I think you’re right, Norah. I’m going to call the church office and see if I can dig deeper into the workings. Somewhere there is something that will validate our suspicions.” Bert dialed the church.

  He didn’t know if anyone would be there during this storm, but Phyllis Overland answered quickly. The woman must live there, Bert thought. He explained his reason for calling and asked if she had time to review the church with him. She seemed happy to have someone to talk with.

  Bert questioned Phyllis about the history of the church. Among other things, there had been a facelift about five or six years earlier. Much of the current landscaping was put in during that time. He asked about any physical renovations to the church. She said the same facelift resulted in upgrading the altar and church entrance. Bert asked about any exterior additions.

  Phyllis said that, besides the shrubbery and landscape improvements, some maintenance buildings were added for storing the groundskeeping equipment. Bert asked her if, after the storm passed, it would be okay for him to look around the grounds. She said that would be no problem.

  Almost as an afterthought, Bert asked her what the main push was behind the upgrades, since the church was beautiful and not very old. She said that the church board, chaired by Father DelFranco, felt the upgrades were necessary to keep up with their standards of excellence. The grounds especially seemed somewhat plain compared to the elegance of the church, itself.

  He told Phyllis t
hanks for her information and said he would be back to look around soon after the storm passed. Then he thought of one more thing to ask her. He wondered if she could tell him how many phone lines there were in the church. After a minute of going over the phones in her head, she finally told him there were a total of five lines. Bert thanked her again for that bit of information and said good-bye.

  He turned to Norah. “You know,” he said, “I wonder if there’s a way to confirm if a call was made to the church on the day that Vicki disappeared.”

  “Perhaps,” Norah answered, “if the church maintains call records dating back more than seven years.”

  Bert called Phyllis back and asked her that question. After a short discussion, he hung up and reported to Norah that the church only maintains the past year’s records.

  “So, another blank,” Norah said. “But what about the phone company, Bert? Maybe they would have the records on a church.”

  “It’s worth a call to ask,” he said. With that, he dialed the phone company and eventually got to Gennie. He asked her about getting such records. To his surprise, she said there was a possibility, but it would take her some time to get to it. Bert thanked her profusely and said he would check back later.

  Next, Bert began the search for someone in Boise for Becky to talk with about DelFranco. It took about an hour of phone tag, but he finally found the current minister, Father Stewart, as well as the most senior nun, Sister Frances. Both understood his explanation for their interest and agreed to talk with Becky when she got there. He obtained their phone numbers to pass to Becky.

  He then asked Norah what else she thought was important. He knew she had been in deep thought, looking inside for answers. After a long pause, she told him that she felt a strong connection between Vicki and Janice Campbell. She could feel there was a key something in common with the two women. However, she didn’t sense a friendship between them. Whatever it was, she said, it was like a chain which bound them together in death.

  “So, if we solve one case, we also solve the other, in all likelihood,” he again stated. “Since we’re struggling to find clues right now for Vicki, then maybe we should shift gears and focus more on Janice.”

  Norah nodded in agreement. Her mind was awash in flashes of the mystery portal, visions from the pulpit, phones, and two women, walking side by side with heads forward and hands clasped in prayer. A shadowy figure, or was it two figures, followed behind them. Who were they, she wondered?

  Bert was already online, searching for information on Don Campbell. It only took him five minutes to locate a man by that name with a son, Terry, now twenty years old, in Salt Lake City. He keyed in the cell phone number.

  When Don Campbell answered, Bert introduced himself and explained his reason for calling. Don was at first skeptical and seemed on the verge of hanging up on him, but Bert noticed a relaxation and a sense of trust as he fully explained the situation he was investigating.

  “I understand, Mr. Campbell, that you suspected that your wife was somehow involved with another member of the church here,” Bert said. “Did you ever confirm this?”

  “No, sir,” Campbell answered. “She always denied it. Yet, she seemed to become more withdrawn and distant during the months leading up to her disappearance.”

  “Her car was found at a golf course, several miles away. Could she have been involved with a golfer who was a member of the church?”

  Campbell replied quickly. “It’s possible, but I couldn’t get a sense of any of them. The same question pertained to the Sturdevant case. She actually dated a golfer, but he was not a real suspect. Small wonder, since he was a cousin of the police chief’s wife.”

  “What?” Bert said. “I’ve never heard that before. So, he was related by marriage to the chief of the investigators.”

  “That’s right, Sir,” Don replied. “However, he seemed to have a solid alibi, being at a tournament in KC at the time Sturdevant vanished. Of course, you don’t know from any of the investigation reports that Simmons’ main alibi at KC was also a golfing buddy of the police chief.”

  “No kidding,” Bert answered in amazement. “Was this golfer fellow, Daniel Simmons, a church member at the time your wife disappeared?”

  “Yes, he sure was,” Campbell said. “But I don’t have any reason to think he and Janice were more than acquaintances. I thought about him but couldn’t connect any dots.”

  “Did you know anything about Simmons, personally,” Bert asked. “What kind of man was he?”

  Don again answered without hesitation. He’d done his homework. “He was pretty much a prick. Had a reputation for a quick and bad temper; driven to always be in the limelight where golfing was concerned. I didn’t trust him any further than I could throw him. At church he was a model parishioner; they all loved him. But if you were around him at the course, you got a different picture.”

  “Uh huh,” Bert said. “Didn’t see any of that in the report on Vicki. How is your son doing? I’ve heard he was having some problems.”

  “He’s finally better the last few years,” Don said. “For the longest time, he was very introverted and quiet. Bringing him here and getting him into a new culture with new friends finally started to bring him out of his shell.”

  “Do you think your son would be willing to talk with me some time,” Bert asked.

  “I don’t know. You’d just have to ask him,” Don said. “I’ll give you his cell number before you go. I’ll have to tell him to expect you because he doesn’t answer unknown calls. He works during the day, too.”

  Bert couldn’t think of any other questions now, so he said thanks and good-bye to Janice’s widower. He could tell that their conversation had rekindled some old memories and opened old partially healed wounds in the man. Bert felt bad about that.

  He leaned back in the motel desk chair and gazed longingly at his wife. She sat on the bed with her back to the headboard, her red hair shining with a beautiful luster. She smiled the beautiful smile which first captured his heart years earlier. Not even the blowing snow outside the motel room window could put a chill on her spirit. “What do you think about that call?” he asked her.

  “It sure makes you wonder about the golfer boy, Simmons. He might not be the saint we first thought. Could he be behind both murders, Bert?”

  “What if he’s behind three murders? Maybe Father DelFranco was suspecting him and Simmons killed him out in Boise to silence him. But then again, we don’t know that DelFranco was killed. We’re being told unusual cause.”

  “Bert, I’m not sensing Simmons when I focus on the two women. What you say is a possibility, but I’m just not getting that vibe. Not yet, anyway. These things have a way of developing over time so I can’t say this with certainty.”

  “Okay, Love,” he said. “Then let’s focus on the Father and see what Becky can find out for us. Before we leave Simmons, though, let’s review what we know. First, he was a member of the church during the time both women were members. We know that he even dated Vicki and he was well liked by church members. We’ve been told that he had a bad temper and was very competitive. His alibi is suspect, according to Janice’s husband. This because he had connections to the police chief by marriage. The fact is that Kansas City is less than a three-hour drive from Nebraska City. He could easily have made that round trip the day Vicki disappeared. She disappeared sometime that afternoon and her car was at a golf course. This seems to indicate she was meeting up with someone who golfed. Janice’s car was found at a different golf course. These prove nothing, but they sure make him seem like a logical suspect.”

  “Logically I agree, but I still don’t have the feeling that he’s the killer, Sweetheart,” she reiterated.

  “Then we won’t rule him out, but we won’t spend much time on him unless something else comes up.”

  They decided to spend the rest of the day going back over the police report and getting hold of Dori, the teen medium. Perhaps she’d be able to get more information from
Janice’s spirit. By later this afternoon, the storm should be largely past and the roads well on the way to being opened. Tomorrow, they figured on visiting the church again, getting back with the phone company, and perhaps talking with Patty. Somehow, they had to figure out who killed Vicki and Janice, where their bodies were hidden, or both.

  Bert first took Missy back out into the storm, which was subsiding in its fury a little bit. It still cut their walk short, but she relieved herself, which was the main objective. After that, he made his calls, opened the report, and began the tedious work of going over it again with Norah. Perhaps they missed something the first time. The day wore on and the storm slowly wore itself out as it continued east.