Into the Light

by Bernard Burgess

  Becky settled back in her chair. “Okay, I’m listening. What happened?”

  “A poor woman was found murdered several weeks ago and they have no suspect, yet. That’s bad enough, Becky, but what’s more disturbing is what we know about the manner of her torment and death. She was found tied between two pillars by her wrists at a residence in rural Boise.”

  Becky sat in shock. Finally, she asked, “You’re saying she was tied with a rope by the wrists between two pillars at a residence and eventually died that way?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” said Mrs. Talbert. “She was apparently tormented and eventually killed and left in that position. The killers are still unknown.”

  Becky held back the tears as she thanked Mrs. Talbert for the information and told her she had to get going. Her head was filled with visions of Summer’s drawing. Was the child seeing this crime before it even happened?

  Becky bought the sweet little lady her lunch, and then they went their respective ways. She was feeling the burn to get back to her Red Lodge case, so decided to drive part of the way the rest of the afternoon. She could be back on the case by early afternoon the next day. She set her sights on Whitehall, Montana, for the night. This small community of just over a thousand people sat along Interstate 90, roughly halfway back to Red Lodge. It would be as good a place as any to spend a quiet night and reflect upon the information she’d gathered.

  While she was driving, she would call Bert and Norah and discuss the puzzling mix of information she’d obtained.

  ***

  Friday morning in Nebraska City was clear and very cold. As he walked Missy in the five-degree temperature, Bert’s mind was occupied by the previous day’s revelations and questions. Were they closing in on at least one of the murders? Was the well just an irrelevant coincidence? Perhaps one or both women were killed in the relative seclusion of that spot but transported somewhere else. Someplace where they’d maybe never be found. Perhaps one or both bodies were in that well. How do we find out, he wondered?

  Back at the motel, he discussed the questions and options with Norah. They agreed on a plan to get to the answers. It would start with their client, Robert.

  Upon reaching Robert, Bert arranged to meet him back at the Buck Snort café, perhaps a fitting place to discuss his help. Robert seemed anxious to find out where the investigation was taking them. They would meet there as soon as it opened at 11 a.m.

  While waiting, Bert tracked down and called the main investigator for Vicki’s case. Detective Bryan Louden was still on the force in Nebraska City, a little to Bert’s surprise. He was skeptical at first when Bert explained his role in looking into the cold case for the victim’s son. However, as they talked, the detective seemed to warm up to Bert and began to open to the idea of meeting. Bert told him he’d like to meet soon, possibly Saturday, and bring him up to date with their investigation findings. Bert knew he would eventually need the man’s help if they were to prove or disprove the growing suspicions. They tentatively arranged to meet Saturday morning for breakfast.

  Next, he called the church and made an appointment to meet with Father Romero at four in the afternoon. For the plan to work, he would need the Father’s support.

  With the wheels set in motion, he and Norah discussed Missy. Could her nose become a key factor in solving the case?

  “Norah, we both know that Missy can sense your presence,” he said. Do you think she can pick up your scent even now, or is it a sixth sense?”

  It was a bit of an awkward topic, but Norah replied, “I’m not sure which, Darling, but it’s one of those.”

  “We know that people report all manner of manifestations from spirits, Honey,” he said. “Many feel a chill in the presence of a spirit, some report smelling things such as cigar smoke, others hear sounds or feel the presence.”

  She knew where he was going with that. “So, Bert, you’re wondering if Missy might be able to somehow track either of those women, despite the many years since they were killed.”

  “Yes, Sweetheart, I wonder if it’s possible. There’s only one way to find out, I guess, and that’s to just see. I wonder if Dori might be available this afternoon at four to meet with Father Romero, also. Her gift, along with being a local girl, might give us a convincing edge.” Norah’s nod of understanding was all he needed. He called and spoke to Dori.

  “She’s good with meeting then,” he told Norah. “Fact is, she’s totally excited about helping with this.”

  Bert leaned back against the motel desk, facing Norah, and checked the time. If they left now, they could be a few minutes early for the meeting with Robert, but early was good. They were both anxious to get moving. He gathered Missy and got her excitement contained enough to get her in the back of the doghouse. She seemed to sense a growing excitement. It made her excited, too.

  After the ten-minute drive, they arrived at the café to find that Robert was already there, waiting outside. He waved for Bert to get in his car and they sat there rather than going into the bar. It was as good a place as any. Bert briefed his client on the status of the case and the questions they now needed to find answers to. The young man was guardedly less timid as he agreed to meet at the church at 4 p.m.

  Bert realized he hadn’t even eaten yet, so invited Robert to have a burger with him inside the tavern. They just sat and talked about unrelated things while they each ate the hamburger plate special. Bert felt that he should just help Robert relax rather than continue to fill him with information. Norah remained in the vehicle with Missy, keeping her company. It was true, Missy did sense her presence.

  After the lunch, Bert and team returned to the motel. He made one more call, this time to Terry Campbell. Mr. Campbell had evidently alerted his son to the possibility of a call, because Terry answered quickly. After the usual introductions and explanation for his call, Bert proceeded to discuss the case with the son of the first victim.

  “Terry, it sounds like you had it pretty rough for a long time, but you’re doing well now. I’m glad to hear that,” Bert said.

  “Yes, sir,” the young man said. “I had some very bad years before and after mom vanished.”

  Bert acted upon a feeling. “Terry, you said you had some bad years before she disappeared. Do you remember about when those bad times began?”

  “I think I was probably about eight, so that would be around twelve years ago,” he said.

  Bert asked, “What was going on in your life at that time? Was there anything significant which caused or added to the troubles for you?”

  Terry was silent on the phone for an uncomfortably long time. Bert was beginning to wish he hadn’t asked the question. Finally, Terry replied. “Mr. Lynnes, I don’t remember a lot about that time. Maybe I just want to forget it. I can’t really say what bothered me, it was just a bad time of my life. I’ve tried hard to just put it all behind me since we moved here to Salt Lake City.”

  Bert sensed the lad’s reluctance and knew he couldn’t press. “Oh, no problem, Terry. I’m just trying to understand the situation. The more I know, maybe the closer I’ll be to figuring out what happened to Vicki, and maybe your mother, too.”

  “That’s okay, Mr. Lynnes, Bert, I understand you’re just doing your job. You know, it’s taken me about ten years to get to the point that I can put all of that behind me. I’ll always miss mom, but I want to forget everything else.”

  “Terry, I’m sure she was a good mother and would be with you if she could. Whatever happened was beyond her ability to control.”

  “Yeah, once she knew, she tried to control it. But she couldn’t. I know she loved me and wanted the best for me.”

  “So, there was something that she found out?” he asked.

  Terry seemed to be nervously moving around with his phone. Bert began to wonder if he was coming back. At last, the young man responded. “Yes, Mr. Lynnes, I was one of the altar boys for the two years before she disappeared.”

  Bert digested the words carefully. “Okay, son, that
’s very admirable of you. Why is that important to her disappearance, though?”

  Once again, a long pause. When he finally spoke, Terry sounded very emotional, “Mr. Lynnes, I’ve never told anyone that, not even my dad. I don’t think anyone would understand.”

  A growing realization was forming in Bert’s mind. He was beginning to understand. “Terry, some might not try to understand you, but I’m paid to understand. It’s my job and duty to try to feel what you’re feeling.”

  Terry’s voice was breaking and interrupted by effort to contain his emotion and sobs. “Sir, I was raped at the church, many times. I didn’t know what to do about it. I didn’t think I could even say anything to mom or dad, because nobody would believe me.”

  Bert was shocked by what he’d just heard, but it did not surprise him. That thought had been slowly taking shape for some time. He suspected that it could explain Robert’s weird behavior, too.

  “Your mother must have found out or at least suspected that,” he said to Terry.

  “I think so,” Terry answered, “she even asked me if anything unusual was going on. But I just couldn’t tell her, Sir. I didn’t think even she could understand and believe me.”

  “Why wouldn’t anyone believe you, Terry? Why not your mother?”

  “Because of who it was,” he replied.

  “It was someone who was well known and respected in the church, wasn’t it, Terry,” Bert said.

  “Yes.”

  “Was it Father DelFranco, Terry?”

  “Yes.”

  Bert bit his lip to hold back the tears that were welling in his eyes. His heart went out to this boy, and to the years of isolated torment he had endured. Drawing a deep breath, he got in control of his emotion and asked another question. “Terry, if your mother suspected something, do you think she confronted the Father about her suspicions?”

  Terry seemed to be pulling his own emotions back. “I don’t know, sir. I know she was becoming quiet and almost angry for several weeks before she left us. I don’t think she knew what to do, either. I couldn’t tell her, and she wasn’t sure.”

  Bert drew another long breath, again to maintain control of his feelings. “Terry, I admire the courage it took just now to tell me this. I won’t violate your trust with this knowledge. Just know that it might help us solve one or both cases. It might help us find your mother, so you’ve done the right thing. I would encourage you to talk to your dad about this, son. I get the feeling that he’s able to understand you. I need to go now but take care of yourself. I think you’ll find that a big weight has been lifted by talking about this.”

  They ended the call, and Bert looked at Norah. The tears in her eyes told him that she had heard it all.

  “I just realized in my vision from the church altar, that in the front row are seated two boys, wearing the robes of altar boys. They were in my vision all along, but I didn’t know what I was seeing, Bert.”

  “Two boys?” he asked.

  “Yes, Honey, two boys. I feel like the second boy is Robert. I’m sensing they were both victimized.”

  ***

  Becky called about 3:00 that afternoon, as Bert, Norah, and Missy were getting ready for their meeting at the church with Father Romero. Both Bert and Norah listened with great interest as Becky brought them up to speed on her meetings with Pastor Finegan, Sister Frances, Father Stewart, and Mrs. Talbert.

  When Bert told her the new revelation about Father DelFranco, she decided to pull off the road. She wanted to focus on the discussion and she didn’t want to risk outrunning her cell phone reception.

  “Oh my,” she said. “His apparent suicide makes more sense now if he was raping altar boys and feeling guilty about it. But what about the mothers, Bert, what happened to them?” Do you think he might have hired someone, like that Simmons guy, to silence them?”

  “That’s a possibility that I hadn’t really considered,” he told her. We just don’t know at this time. There’s some reason to suspect that well on the church property, but we have nothing solid to go on.”

  Becky then asked, “Any suggestions about the apparent surveillance going on here? I’m convinced that Mr. Finegan doesn’t care to know and isn’t behind it. So, if it isn’t being conducted on Summer or Lizzie, then I’m the only other option, I think. In that case, it would likely be my ex who’s behind it.”

  “I suppose you could just confront him and ask,” Bert suggested. “But if you don’t want to do that, then see if you can get the license plate number and I’ll run it. If we find out who has the truck, we can probably figure out the rest.”

  “I’ll try to get the plate, boss, because I have no desire to talk with my ex. I don’t want him to know anything about me, either. Does Norah still not think that Summer could be psychic? It just seems uncanny that her one drawing so closely depicts the murder in Boise.”

  Bert looked to Norah for her answer. She slowly shook her head but also mouthed, “I don’t really know, but I don’t sense that.” He relayed that to Becky.

  “The child is just too purposeful about her drawings, Bert, they have to mean something. If Summer isn’t psychic and the Boise killing is purely coincidental, then what else can it be?”

  “I don’t know, Becky, but we think you’re doing the right approach, just slowly drawing it out of Summer. Asking for more details. Since we have so many church connections to our cases, maybe you could go online and start going over church pictures with her. Perhaps something in the architecture or scene will relate to her and help her be more explicit.”

  Becky agreed. “That’s a great idea, guys. Soon as I’m back tomorrow, I’ll start searching for churches to review with her. If she is psychic, maybe she’s channeling another church or parishioner, somewhere. It’s worth a shot.”

  “Sounds great, Becky. I guess we’d better be getting off to our meeting with the Father here. Drive safely to Whitehall tonight and on to Red Lodge tomorrow.”

  They ended the call as Becky got back on the road and Bert loaded Missy in the doghouse and they pulled away from the motel. They reviewed their notes again as they drove the ten-minute drive to the Holy Mother Church.

  Upon arriving at the church, they saw that Dori was already there. She got out of her car and came over to talk with them. Bert explained the situation and that it would probably be hard to convince Father Romero of the evidence which pointed to the well. He told her that her credibility as a member of a nearby church and a witness to Janice’s spirit might make all the difference. She was very anxious to do anything she could to help.

  As Bert, with Norah and Dori at his side, walked toward the church, Robert drove up, parked, and joined them as they waited for him near the entrance. They all entered and went to Father Romero’s office.

  Father Romero was surprised to see three people. He had only expected Bert. Norah stood to the side, unseen by the Father, while her husband explained his reason for bringing Dori and Robert. Father Romero seemed to accept the explanation and offered them a seat as he learned forward on his desk.

  “So, Mr. Lynnes, what’s this all about?” he asked.

  “Father Romero, I’ll get right to the point. There is a growing body of evidence, some of it what you would call supernatural evidence, that one or both of your missing women were killed at the old well, which is embedded under the floor of the caretaker building, the Saint Brigit building. There is also reason to suspect that one or both bodies may be in the well.”

  Romero sat back in his chair with an air of shock and disbelief. “Okay, Bert, if I may call you by your first name, what evidence indicates this?”

  Bert went on. “Sir, my other investigator went to Boise, Idaho, and discovered strong evidence that Father DelFranco committed suicide there. A note was discovered but quickly hidden, which said he was remorseful and sorry for what he’d done. His death was made to look like an accidental overdose of medication, to hide the embarrassment of his apparent suicide.”

  “I take it there
is no evidence of this, which would stand up in court,” he said.

  “No sir, Father, however, the circumstantial evidence is very strong. Especially with what I’ll tell you next.” Bert let that sink in for a minute.

  “Okay, Bert, I’m listening,” Romero said.

  Bert continued. “Father, I have spoken at length with the son of Janice Campbell, his name is Terry. He’s now twenty years old and lives in Salt Lake City. Terry told me that, as an altar boy at this church, he was repeatedly molested and raped by Father DelFranco.”

  Father Romero sat silent and expressionless. Bert could tell that a combination of disbelief, denial, and anger was passing through his mind. Was the anger at DelFranco, or was it at Bert for raising the question of church integrity?