“My team consists of a psychic who provides inputs and perceptions, some of which lead us to believe the dead women are somehow tied to the church and possibly to that old well.”
“Dead women?” he asked. “How do you know that?”
“Not only am I a psychic medium, often able to see and converse with the dead, but a local teenager has the same gift. We’ve both seen the spirit of Janice Campbell at both locations.”
“Bert, if I may call you by your first name, psychic evidence is almost never admissible in court. You undoubtedly know that, sir.”
Yes, Detective, I do know that,” Bert said. “However, many law enforcement agencies are learning that legitimate psychic inputs can be used as a tool, which can often lead to hard evidence, which is admissible. If you think about it, a detective’s hunches are often followed to unravel clues leading to the solving of crime. Psychic inputs are really just refined variations of your hunch.”
Louden thought about that for a minute. He finally said, “Well, you do have a point there. So, what else do you have which changes the equation from seven years ago?”
Bert answered, “The priest, Father DelFranco, who was here during the disappearance of both women, very likely committed suicide in Boise a year or so after leaving here. There is evidence there, which could be subpoenaed, to support that presumption.”
“Okay, interesting,” said Louden.
Bert continued. “Most telling, though, is the admission by Terry Campbell, son of Janice Campbell, that DelFranco was molesting him sexually for some time before the mother vanished. If she confronted the Father about that, you have a motive for murder, sir.”
Detective Louden took a couple more sips of his coffee and another bite of sausage, collecting his thoughts. At last, he told Bert, “We’ll need some solid evidence to go with if we’re going to go up against the hierarchy of the Catholic Church by accusing one of their own of rape and murder.”
“I realized that, Detective,” Bert said. “If you can indulge us and meet at the church with my team on Monday morning, about 10:00, there are some things I want to do which might persuade you and the Church.”
Detective Louden agreed to the Monday meeting. They soon wrapped up their breakfast with a little more football chat, and Louden headed back to the station, since he was on duty today. Bert and Norah went back to the doghouse and an excited Missy. She was obviously needing another walk. They drove back to their favorite field.
The 36-degree temperature and light wind had the snow melting, and Missy was wet when they returned to the motel. She didn’t care for the rubdown with a towel. Once that chore was completed, Bert began to make the calls and arrange for the meeting on Monday. Norah laid near Missy, listening to her soft breathing as she dozed in front of the window.
The afternoon passed quickly. After darkness had descended upon eastern Nebraska, Becky called. Bert was happy to hear her upbeat voice on the phone. He was a little shocked, though, when she called him boss-man and announced that she had new news for him and Norah. “We’re going to be joining you there. Soon.”
They discussed her development that Summer had an obvious reaction to the pictures he’d sent of the Holy Mother Church. She said that Lizzie strongly agreed that they needed to bring Summer to that church and try to understand the connection. Lizzie had discussed it with Guy when he returned from work. While he didn’t think he could leave his work on such short notice, he was supportive of the trip.
Becky said that she, Lizzie, and Summer were leaving Red Lodge early in the morning, Sunday. They should arrive in Nebraska City sometime Monday afternoon. Bert told her he’d arrange rooms for them at their motel.
Becky’s final statement followed him and Norah to bed: “Is it possible that she could somehow help solve your case there?”
As he turned out the light and stared into the darkness, he asked Norah, “Honey, is it possible that the child is somehow channeling this case in Nebraska City, hundreds of miles from her home?”
He heard her answer, “Sweetheart, I guess I just don’t know. I’m not sensing it but how else do we explain it?”
Chapter Fourteen: The Well
It was about 7:00 on Sunday morning when Becky, Lizzie, and Summer left Red Lodge in Becky’s truck. The nearly eleven-hour drive to Nebraska City would take a little bit longer than usual because Summer would need a stop now and then. Becky figured they’d get to someplace in central Nebraska along Interstate 80, before stopping for the night. That would leave an easy drive of around four hours Monday morning to their destination. They would miss the meeting that morning but could catch up on everything once they got there.
Becky initially had her sights set on the coffee shop in Thermopolis. She knew Summer would need a bathroom stop by then, and a coffee would be welcomed by herself and Lizzie. After passing her new home of Cody, they started a game of antelope with Summer, seeing who could spot most of the speedy creatures. They were easier to see than usual because of the patches of snow.
The sharp-eyed little girl was a formidable competitor, and she held a commanding lead by the time they reached the first stop.
As the miles faded behind them, Becky’s mind kept drifting to the strange circle drawing. It was still an unknown entity. Did it also have some connection to the Nebraska City church? Or was it something entirely different and unrelated?
Watching Lizzie and Summer both dozing in their respective seats, Becky felt a calmness and confidence that she hadn’t felt before about her case. She felt like the answers they sought were a day ahead, somewhere around the Holy Mother Catholic Church.
She turned on the radio and tied it to her ear buds so as not to awaken the other girls. An old-time singer, whom she liked, was just coming on. She listened to the catchy lyrics and tunes of The Masters Call, Faleena, and then El Paso City, all made familiar and popular by the late, great, Marty Robbins. When the songs ended, she sighed a deep breath, and felt a sadness come over her. She knew that this country girl would forever be linked to the past, more-so than the present, at least where music was concerned. Her remorseful reflection was interrupted by another good one. The Highwayman with Waylon, Willie, Johnny, and Kris was starting. Life was good.
Being a Sunday, there was almost no traffic on the road. The only vehicle she had seen in the last hour was a lone vehicle which was apparently going the same direction as they were. She just had occasional glimpses of the vehicle, a truck she thought, well behind them.
***
Sunday in Nebraska City was a down day for Bert, Norah, and Missy. He had decided that they needed a break from the mental pressures of digging for the bones of these unsolved cases. The only work they did was to review the plan for Monday’s meeting and ensure that all the pieces were lined up. Satisfied that they were as ready as they could get, it seemed like a beautiful sunny day to take a hike in the Wilson Creek State Wildlife Management Area, which was about ten miles west of Nebraska City. It was in the middle of winter, so there was little chance of running into many other people. Missy was guaranteed to have a blast with a free run.
Hours later, they returned as the sun was sinking onto the western hills. Missy was happy as a clam, literally grinning as she hopped with muddy, wet feet onto the old army blanket in the cargo area. She flopped down and was asleep before Bert got the vehicle into gear. He and Norah both laughed. They could hardly stop smiling as they drove the fifteen minutes back to the motel.
That evening was mostly about relaxing. They did some talking about their business and the cases but didn’t want to stress their minds with too much thinking. “You can overthink these things, I think. Are you thinkin’ what I’m thinkin’, Honey?” he asked with a big grin.
She laughed and her eyes flashed. “Yeah, I agree, we wouldn’t want to do too much thinking, or we could overthink it, I think.”
They laughed so much that Missy raised her head from the floor where she was napping by the window. She gave them a look as if to say, �
�quiet, please. Some of us are sleeping.”
They discussed Becky for a few minutes. Both agreed that she was a great choice and a good fit with their business. They liked how she had taken the challenge at Red Lodge and was running with it yet making good decisions.
“Let’s keep her, Bert,” Norah said. “I’ll learn to live with her looks.” She laughed.
It was a good day, a fitting respite before the challenges that tomorrow would bring.
“Good night, Norah,” he said as he turned out the light. “You’re really something, Honey.”
She laughed in the darkness. “I have to be something, because you’d be nothing without me, Sweetheart.”
He chuckled and smiled broadly in the darkness, even as tears welled up in his closed eyes and trickled down his cheeks. So close, and yet so far away.
Norah leaned back on the bed. She didn’t know if she could cry real tears, but she knew she could feel the ache of real longing.
***
Becky lowered her sun visor as she entered Interstate 80 from their overnight stay in North Platte, Nebraska. She and Lizzie had taken Summer to dinner last night at the Bill Cody restaurant. The little girl was totally enthralled with the western folklore and she must have asked a million questions, thought Becky, with a smile.
For now, they all donned sunglasses as they drove east into the low, but rising, sun on this Monday morning, January 15th, 2018. In about four more hours, right around noon, they would be in Nebraska City.
As she piloted her Dodge Ram Hemi truck toward the east, Becky was oblivious to the stares from passing truckers. She was lost in thought about how to figure out how this church was somehow drawn into Summer’s life. As before, the only conclusion she could reach was that the child was psychic. Somehow, Summer had connected to the church and maybe to the missing mother of the other client. Somehow, she seemed to be developing the vestiges of clairvoyance. Becky wondered, however, if the child was picking up on what happened in the past? Or, was she seeing where they were now headed into the future?
It was hard for her to believe that she just started working for Bert and Norah only two weeks earlier. It was even harder to grasp the fact that she’d been on the Hayden’s case for most of that time. Her first case for B and N Investigations was well into its second week, and it was taking her two states away from where she’d started. Talk about your whirlwind beginning, she thought to herself.
They were driving this distance for a reason, Becky thought. It was as if an invisible force had taken over her investigation and now, she, Becky Thompson, Private Investigator, was just along for the ride. She was no longer driving this case; she had become a passenger.
***
On the same Monday morning, Bert, Norah, and Missy had completed their morning ritual. They took their deep, relaxing breaths as they entered the parking lot at the Holy Mother Church. It was twenty minutes until 10:00. Bert wanted to be well early. This was a critical day to his case. It had to go right.
Bert and Norah were thrilled when Robert arrived just a few minutes later, followed closely by Dori. He got out of the doghouse, leaving Norah with Missy. Missy sensed the excitement and needed Norah’s calming presence to keep her from getting too wound up. Bert greeted both Robert and Dori. They had just started to discuss the meeting when Detective Louden drove up.
After introducing Louden to Robert and Dori, Bert led him to the left rear door of the doghouse, ordering Missy to stay as he opened it so she could sniff and meet the Detective. Bert said his usual intro to the coywolf and quickly explained Missy’s history and role. With that formality completed, he led the group to the church and inside to Father Romero’s office. Since Missy had calmed down, Norah left the vehicle and also entered the church and office, standing in the front right corner. Bert nodded at her.
Taking the lead, Bert introduced all parties to each other. He said that he was going to present a theory, which was based upon the facts and evidence they had acquired to date. He explained that Dori might interrupt him at any time if she saw the spirit of Janice Campbell, because he wanted to try an experiment, one whose outcome was unpredictable. With that quick explanation, he began.
“Father Romero and Detective Louden, the premise of my theory is that Father DelFranco, formerly of this Church during the time the two women disappeared, was involved in both disappearances. It is a fact, as stated by Terry Campbell, now twenty, that DelFranco had abused him sexually while he was an altar boy. The abuse lasted at least two years, until Janice, his mother, disappeared. It’s highly likely that Janice confronted DelFranco. I believe he lured her to the old well, due to its seclusion, and killed her to silence her. I believe you will find her remains in that old well.” Bert glanced at Robert, who continued to sit, stoically.
Father Romero interrupted him. “How do you explain that the cars were found miles away at separate golf courses? That strongly suggests that someone else was involved.”
“Father Romero, that’s a good question and easily answered. Father DelFranco was an athlete and especially a runner. He ran numerous marathons throughout the year, often taking others with him. Even the ten miles from the Lake Ridge Golf Course would’ve been an easy jog for Father DelFranco. He could have dropped the vehicles off, unnoticed, and ran back to the church without anyone suspecting anything. On the weekdays when the ladies disappeared, the church would have been mostly empty. Anyone seeing him would have known that he ran nearly every day, so that would not have been suspicious.”
“Father DelFranco has passed away, so how can you get his side of this?” asked Father Romero.
“Our other investigator, Becky Thompson, will be here later today. She interviewed several people in Boise, where DelFranco last served and died. One lady can testify that she saw a note left by the Father, expressing his remorse for something he did. It’s an obvious suicide note, which can be subpoenaed from the church files. It doesn’t take a big imagination to see that he very possibly was remorseful for things he did here.”
Detective Louden began to speak. “So, Mr. Lynnes, what leads you to believe that the . . ..”
Bert interrupted him when Dori motioned to him. He knew that she saw Janice’s spirit. He quickly gathered the group up as he asked Dori to see where she went. Dori indicated that she was going toward the side door from the altar.
Asking everyone to exit the front of the church and focus on Dori and the site of the well, Bert ran to the doghouse to get Missy. He put her on her leash and ran with her toward the outside door on the side of the church, ball cap in hand. He knelt beside Missy, offered her Janice’s pink ball cap, and ordered her to find. He removed the leash. It was now up to her to prove or disprove his experiment.
Bert moved next to Detective Louden. He quietly explained what he was doing with Missy. He told him he’d never tried this before and didn’t know if she could pick up the scent of a spirit. Dori came beside him, as well, and told both men that she had seen Janice’s spirit go to the shed and seemed to disappear inside. Father Romero and Detective Louden looked skeptical yet were engaged in the process. Their skepticism seemed to be wavering.
Missy moved very slowly around the side doorway, sniffing diligently. She moved her head from side to side, as if straining to pick up the slightest sound or molecule of scent. After about twenty seconds, she began the same methodical search movements as she began to make her way across the untracked snow, toward the maintenance shed. She would move a few feet, then stop and sniff from side to side, rotating her head. Every movement seemed intended to gather as much residual scent as possible. She wasn’t getting much, however, she was getting just enough to keep her slowly moving toward the shed.
Bert’s heart was pounding out of his chest, by the time his prized animal slowly reached the shed and finally sat down beside it. She looked back at him; her cue that she’d found what her nose was looking for. They all walked briskly with him to the shed and stood back in amazement as he petted and praised her and re
warded her with a piece of jerky.
He turned to the group. “Folks, you’ve just witnessed two bits of evidence to support our belief that Janice’s body is in this well. For one, Dori, a psychic medium in her own right, saw and sensed the spirit of Mrs. Campbell as she went to and entered this locked shed. Secondly, Don Campbell, Janice’s husband, sent me her pink ball cap which she wore all the time. Using her scent from the cap, our tracking animal, Missy, was surprisingly able to glean just enough residual scent from the spirit to track her to the same shed. I didn’t know if she could do that, but she did it. Her nose believes that Janice Campbell is inside that shed. The old well is embedded in the floor.”
The group was silent. Even Father Romero had nothing to say. He didn’t want to believe what he was hearing and seeing, yet he couldn’t make himself deny it. Robert watched everything with keen interest, but he continued to remain stoic.
Into the Light Page 21