Deadly Decision (19 page)

Ted laughed at the tiny plastic thing. “I have a better one in the shop,” He ran out the back door.

Arriving with two heavy utility flashlights, Ted handed one to me. Giving a man-grunt in satisfaction over the size and weight, I returned the girlie light to Trina.

As I clicked on the utility light, the feeling of anger I experienced in the kitchen punched into my chest. Whatever was causing the sensation was at the bottom of the stairs. Taking a deep breath to help remove the foreign feeling, I wondered if Barbara's monster was finally going to reveal his hiding place.

Ted, standing beside me, ran his light around the descending passage. “The whole thing is made of stone. Stone isn't that common around here.”

“Maybe I should go down first,” I suggested, regretting the fact that it was going to be more difficult to push the women back up the stone steps compared to shoving them down the attic stairs. How would I protect them from whatever was hidden below? I tried to relax my clenched teeth. My nostrils flared as air moved in and out. “You can stay here until I have made sure it's safe.”

Someone's anger wrapped around me like a second skin. My nerves felt frayed.

“You're not leaving me behind,” Trina stated from somewhere behind me.

“Do you think it's dangerous?” Sandra asked.

“We don't know what's down there, it could be anything,” I snapped. How was I supposed to know if it could be dangerous?

“Like snakes?” Sandra suggested.

I had been thinking more along the line of the supernatural. “I'll go down first…”

“You're not leaving me behind either,” Sandra stated.

“We all want to go,” Trina said.

“If everyone insists on coming, then let's go,” I growled, barely keeping my tone civil. As strong as the sensation of anger was, I knew what would happen next. I needed find whatever was down there before the external anger turned to fear. I remembered the draining, hopeless panic that had followed the anger, and didn't want to be caught in the dark space if it settled over me like before.

I tested each stone before putting my full weight on it. Sandra, following behind me, grasped my arm tighter.

No one spoke. My senses were on high alert. I was ready to shield Sandra against whatever lay ahead. I had to trust Ted to do the same for Trina.

Sandra shivered. “It's getting colder.”

Gritting sounds echoed as we placed our weight on each sand-coated step.

At the bottom, a heavy door stood closed, with a cross-beam securing it.

I could hardly breathe. Something waited.

Mitch has already seen whatever it is. Mitch knows.

I handed Sandra my flashlight and began loosening the cross beam that secured the door.

“Be careful,” she murmured.

Ted's voice sounded loud in the quietness. “What's wrong, babe?”

Turning, I saw Ted put his arms around Trina's shoulders. In the streaks of light from our flashlights, her pale face looked gray.

“I'm taking her back up,” Ted stated.

Sandra followed. “Are you sick, honey?”

We followed Ted to the kitchen, where he lowered Trina into a chair at the table.

“What's wrong with her?” I asked, but didn't need an answer. Cancer played with your stomach and your brain. I had seen this before. In spite of the superimposed anger, part of me crumbled. Why did I have to lose my daughter this way?

“I'm sorry. I just got dizzy and sick to my stomach. The smell…”

“It's OK babe,” Ted murmured. “Just sit here a minute.”

“I feel like such a wimp, but if I go down there I'll get sick again.”

“You're not a wimp,” Ted said, kneeling beside her. “How about this? We'll go and see what's behind that door. You stay here until we get back. There isn't much space on the steps anyway.”

“Is Mitch supposed to come today?” I asked.

“He's at the garage this morning,” Ted replied. “He's scheduled to come by this evening.”

“I don't want Trina alone if Mitch shows up.”

“I'll stay with her,” Sandra said, giving me a look that was colder than the air at the bottom of the newly discovered stairs.

I didn't care. Fate had solved the problem of protecting the girls.

Ted and I carefully retraced our steps. Slipping on the grit, Ted grabbed onto the side wall for support. “We could sweep off the stairs,” he said, “it would be safer.”

“Too much dust. We wouldn't be able to breathe.”

Taking a step at a time, we reached the bottom of the stairs. My nerves jangled like a Salvation Army tambourine. Only a single wooden door stood between us and the unknown. The anger was fading and I knew overwhelming fear would soon follow. I had to hurry.

Ted held both lights as I lifted the cross beam. There was just enough room for the door to clear the bottom step, and both Ted and I had to climb back onto the stairs to give the door room to open.
Should I warn Ted?

Afraid to breath, I stared into the cave beyond the door. I tensed, expecting to hear the macabre laugh of the demon, or see red, glowing eyes in the darkness in front of me. “This is amazing,” Ted said, looking around.

Our flashlights partially illuminated the interior of a stone-lined room. The space looked to be about seven feet square, with dozens of trunks similar to those in the attic, stacked one on top of another. The height of the stacks, some four trunks high, prevented our lights from penetrating to the back of the room. Goose bumps rose on my arms. The silent space felt creepy and tomb-like. But unless the demon was hiding in the shadows, Ted and I were alone. The anger was almost gone. I had to hurry.

“Be careful,” I said. “Don't hit the walls. I'm not sure how solid this place is.”

Sandra's voice came from above. “What's down there?”

I went out of the room to the bottom of the stairs, afraid a loud voice would crumble the fragile environment, and looked up at her anxious face.

“Come on down,” Ted shouted from the room.

I scowled at my son-in-law, and looked back toward Sandra in time to see her glance toward Trina. I could hear my daughter's muffled voice.

I lit the stairs as Sandra descended.

“Hold on to the wall so you don't slip.”

Slowly she navigated the uneven steps.

I was angry with Ted for bringing Sandra down to the cave. There was something in the room I was meant to find, and Sandra didn't need exposed to danger. Plus Trina was now alone upstairs. I could handle Mitch if he unexpectedly showed up in the kitchen, but Trina was no match for an angry man.

“Trina,” I called from the stairs, “let me know if you hear Mitch's truck.”

“Dad!”

“Please.”

“All right.”

I took Sandra's hand and led her inside the door of the stone room. I handed her my flashlight, and she slowly examined the dark space. “To think this has been here all this time.”

“Everything is covered in dirt,” Ted said. As if on cue, a few grains of sand sifted from the ceiling to the floor.

“You've got to whisper. I told you before, any noise could make these walls fall on top of us.”

“Sorry.”

I stood with Sandra as she continued to roam the beam of light around the room. Ted opened one of the five trunks lying on their sides that were close to the door. “We have more empty trunks,” he said.

I ran my hand over the top of my head, and felt the grit that had already become trapped in the stubble. But Mitch stealing from the cave didn't explain the crushing weight on my chest.

Unable to wait any longer, I took the flashlight from Sandra. “Stay here.”

Walking behind a stack of trunks, I shined the light into the dark recesses. Moving slowly around one stack of containers then another, I pointed the beam of light in front of me like a sword. The majority of the room remained in darkness, but the darkness did not move.

Ted wandered toward the right hand side. “Look at those roots,” he exclaimed, pointing his beam at the ceiling. “They must be from the magnolia tree out back. Look at the texture against the stone—”

“Probably leaks like a sieve. The only reason this stuff doesn't have more water damage is because this room's under the back porch.”

Ted's misshapen roots looked more like withered arms than potential artwork to me. The back wall tilted inward at a precarious angle. A few grains of sand worked their way between the rocks and the sound as they landed reminded me of rats.

“You OK Sandra?” I called.

“I'm fine. I might go back up and get Trina's flashlight.”

“Ah…Bill. You better come back here.”

Not again!

I rounded the next stack of trunks toward the far right wall. The beam from Ted's flashlight was pointed to the floor.

I jumped back. “What in the...”

“What is it?” Sandra cried.

“Sandra, stay there,” I croaked, amazed I could make any sound come out of my throat. She stood alone in the dark, but right now, I preferred that to what my light revealed. Hoping it wasn't true, I thought I knew what we had found. But I was no expert.

“What's wrong?” Sandra asked.

My heart clawed its way into my throat as I heard her moving in the darkness. She had to stay away; she couldn't see this!

“I'll be right there. Just stay put. Don't come over here. Please.”

The beam of my flashlight joined Ted's.

Facing me, with empty eye sockets and a wide grin, was a skull. The skull rested at an odd angle, about five inches off the floor, sitting on top of a few vertebrae that had remained stacked. What I assumed were ribs and the arm bones lay scattered around the head. Perfect skeletal hands splayed glove-like beside the body. Legs stretched out in front of the skull, with the bottoms of bones encased in boots. Fragments of clothing clung to bits of bone. A gold ring encircled one finger.

Not Jimmy! The initial shock receded, and the gruesome panic created when I thought we had found Jimmy's body melted. No fear. No anger. Huge relief.

“It's not Jimmy,” Ted whispered. “Look at the boots. Too big.”

“And the wedding ring.”

He nodded. “And the head's too big too.”

I felt sorry for whoever the fellow was, but my relief that it was not Jimmy left me feeling weak. I leaned against the stack of trunks beside me.

“Notice the satchel?” Ted said. “I wonder what's in it.”

“Bill?” Sandra's frightened voice sounded flat in the small room.

“I'm coming. Stay there.”

On impulse, I grabbed the satchel and tried to decide how to best explain what we had found to the women.

 

 

 

 

22

 

“We need to call the police,” Sandra stated. “This changes things.”

“It doesn't change anything,” I said. “The skeleton's decades old, maybe older.”

I had pushed the cabinet back in place to hide the cave, but we remained in the kitchen, almost like old-time claim-stakers afraid to be too far from their find.

“If we call the police,” Ted stated, “we'll show our hand to whoever was in the cave last night. The newspaper monitors the police calls. If they ran a story on a small marijuana plot, you know they're going to jump on a story about a skeleton.”

“If we wait awhile, what will it hurt?” I repeated. “A few more days won't make any difference to the skeleton, but it may give us a chance to catch the thief.”

Sandra folded her arms in front of her. “That's the police's job.”

“The police have enough to do. They still haven't caught Jimmy's killer…”

“Dad!”

“We can't ruin our opportunity. Ted and I are going to take turns staying up at night.” I looked at Ted, and he nodded.

“And if you see anyone or hear anyone,” Trina added softly, “you promise to call the police, and not try to capture him on your own?”

“Promise,” I said, reaching for the bottle of pain medicine that was still on the table.

Trina looked across the table. “Ted?”

“I promise.”

I shook out a couple of pills and looked toward Sandra. “It's really up to you, since it's your house. But I sure would like a chance to catch that guy.”

Sandra's eyes burned into mine for a long moment. I was surprised when she agreed.

“But just the minute things get out of hand, I'm calling the police,” she added. “Now, what is this thing on the table?”

Eagerly I placed my hands on the flap of the satchel.

Sandra's cellphone rang. She looked at the screen. “It's the police station,” she murmured.

“Maybe they have news about the marijuana,” I mumbled as she pushed the receive button.

Sandra gasped, and then her face turned white. I pushed a chair under her. “They've found Jimmy's killer!” She turned her attention back to the caller. “They found the green blanket,” she mouthed toward us.

Sandra's look of anguished relief melted as her eyes rounded and she gasped.

“You found it where? There has to be a mistake… what do you mean an anonymous tip?” She slumped against the back of the chair, incredibility and disbelief transforming her face. I hung on every word she said, wishing I could hear the other end of the conversation.

Sandra's eyes glassed over as the voice on the other end of the phone continued. Trina clung to Ted.

“How can you believe that?” Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes. “You've made a terrible mistake.”

Sandra dropped the phone into her lap and stared at us with an incredulous look. “They just arrested Pastor Steve for kidnapping Jimmy!”

 



 

Being hit on the head, finding the hidden cave complete with a skeleton, and now Pastor Steve's arrest drained my scant energy reserve. In spite of my exhaustion, I took the first night's watch. The comfort of my room would have to wait.