Authors: Stacy Dittrich
The force of the shot bowled him over to his left. He landed beside the storm cellar doors, which were sprayed with brain matter and blood. Nicholas Drake, just like his mother, had committed suicide—right before our eyes.
“Jesus!” Naomi yelled, running over to him.
I turned my back to Nicholas’s lifeless body and took a long, deep breath. Michael was at my side in a flash. He put his arms around me and squeezed, which caused me to scream in pain.
“Cee? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He let go and looked at me with deep concern.
I nodded, turned around and lifted up the back of my shirt. I didn’t need to see my lower back to know it was probably black already from bruising.
“Oh my God! What the hell happened?”
“My legs got it, too.” I put my gun in its holster. “Martin Drake is inside and cuffed…probably needs an ambulance to look at his head. I whacked him a good one after he hit me with a board.”
Michael looked confused as he turned to the door of the house. He sat me down and he went inside. Coop was directly behind him with his flashlight. When I heard moaning coming from inside a few minutes later, I knew Martin Drake was conscious—and hurting.
Naomi stood with me while the other police officers, the crime lab and coroner arrived to take Martin Drake to jail and his son to the morgue. When Martin first saw Nicholas’s body, he screamed in grief.
“Oh, God! Not my son! Please, not my son!” he sobbed and fell to his knees.
The uniformed officers and EMTs had to hold him up and walk him to the ambulance.
As wrong as it sounds, I felt my eyes brimming with tears at Martin’s grief. They were both brutal murderers, but Martin Drake had now lost his entire family.
“You don’t think he killed his own daughter, do you?” Naomi asked quietly.
“No.” I watched as Martin was lifted into the ambulance. “Daniel Griffin and Meghan Dearth killed Melissa Drake…but I do think that’s what prompted this, their killing spree, I mean. I think it was revenge for Melissa’s murder.”
Coop and Michael joined us. Michael made an honest attempt to lure me to the ambulance so my back and legs could be checked out but I was more than aware of what broken bones felt like and already knew I didn’t have any. Of course I would be sore as hell until the bruising went away.
“Why did they wait twenty years?” Coop asked. “And they were all relatives of Mary Jane, including Melissa, who was killed at her grave. How do you explain that?”
“There are a lot of loose ends that need to be tied up. I’m hoping I find some answers when we search this place top to bottom, starting with the storm cellar. I predict we’re going to find a large cache of high-tech audio and video equipment down there. By the way, how’d you guys figure out to come here?”
Naomi explained that the Ocala Police Department had called shortly after I left the department.
“I tried to call you, but I guess you weren’t getting a signal wherever you were.”
She must have called about the same time I was standing in the Pleasant Valley Cemetery with Luke Mengert. The southern part of the county had only small pockets of cell phone signals, and I guess the cemetery wasn’t one of them.
“Their apartment was empty,” she continued. “They hadn’t lived there for over a year but still had a lease on it. Ocala talked to the management company of the apartment complex, and Martin had written another mailing address on the initial application.” She looked at Coop apprehensively, as if she was afraid to say what was next. “Hold your breath, CeeCee. The other address was Martin’s father’s house outside Bellville.”
“Nathaniel Drake? Don’t tell me he’s still alive.”
“Yes, sort of, I guess. Only he doesn’t go by Nathaniel Drake anymore. He changed his name over fifteen years ago.” She paused. “He changed his name to Walter Morris.”
I was dumbfounded. I had been inside Nathaniel Drake’s house twice and never would have figured it out. He had warned me, though, by God. He knew what his son and grandson were doing.
Naomi went on. “I sent uniforms to Nath—Walter’s house to find Martin and Nicholas.” She looked over as the coroner began to put Nicholas in a body bag. “Walter, at first, denied knowing them, but I guess with a certain amount of pressure, he ceded. He actually told them everything. He said it was time, that over a hundred years was enough. He told the uniforms that Martin and Nicholas were at the grave…and Maryanne’s house.”
I still didn’t get any of this. I didn’t understand what Walter meant by a hundred years was enough. I was still reeling from the shock of his true identity as Naomi continued.
“I was so excited, I called your house when I couldn’t get you on your cell. I figured you’d already be home by then. When Michael told me you had gone down to the grave, I knew you’d be in trouble.” She shook her head.
“Of course, I had to come along after Naomi told me what was going on,” Michael interjected.
I thanked all of them for coming to my aid, then told them about my run- in with Luke Mengert and my sup-posed supernatural experiences at Mary Jane’s Grave when I first arrived.
“I’d have to remove ten pounds of shit from my underwear if I’d seen a chick like that sitting by the tree,” Coop joked.
We all laughed. “I think a lot of those wires will explain that. You know, I should be ecstatic that we caught these guys, but I’m not.” I sighed. “I feel like there’s still so many pieces missing…like Luke. I know he has
something
to do with this, but what?”
There wasn’t time for an answer because Bob from the crime lab, who had been processing the entire scene with the others, called out to us. They were standing next to the storm cellar and had opened both of the old, wooden white doors. We all walked over and peered down the cement steps that were now lit up by floodlights the lab had erected.
“What is it, Bob?” Naomi asked.
“I think you all better go down there and take a look. If I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, I’d never have believed it.”
Since Bob had done such an outstanding job of grabbing our attention, Coop and I bumped into each other trying to be the first down the steps. I won.
My thoughts of the four of us being cramped together down there were erased as I came down the last step and looked around. The cellar was not really a cellar at all. I’m sure it had been long ago, but now it was more of a small warehouse. Someone had taken a great amount of time and effort to hollow out more ground, widening the cellar and cementing its walls.
I was right about one thing: the high- tech equipment. Nevertheless, I never could have imagined such a large quantity of equipment that occupied the space and lined the walls. Most of it looked like audio and video equipment whose capabilities I couldn’t even begin to fathom. Standing before me were the phenomena of Mary Jane’s Grave. The two other entities were above ground, although one wouldn’t be for long, and one was on his way to prison.
Michael let out a low whistle. “I’d say this stuff is worth a couple hundred grand.”
“If it isn’t stolen.” Coop walked toward the middle of the cellar to a large, black machine that resembled an old film projector.
“What’s that?” Naomi joined him.
Coop looked around it, fumbling with switches and pushing buttons. It was quite a sophisticated- looking piece of equipment, one I’d never seen before. Coop hit a large silver switch on the right side of it, and the machine produced a quiet, whirring sound. I gasped loudly when something on the other side of the room caught my eye. It was the old woman in white, sitting on the floor between two speakers.
“What the hell!” Bob yelled from halfway down the steps, a point from which he could clearly see the image.
Coop laughed. “It’s a hologram machine. I didn’t know they could make these but, evidently so. There’s your ghost, CeeCee.”
I walked toward the apparition. “I wonder who she is.”
“Nobody,” Michael said. “They can design anything they want to on a computer and then download it into the machine. It has its own memory stick.”
I stood in front of the image and waved my hand back and forth through it, causing it to waver a bit, like a blip in a television screen.
“They couldn’t have gotten it up here, though. I saw this a few minutes before I chased Nicholas from the grave.”
“I’m sure they have more than one,” Naomi pointed out. “I don’t know what half of this stuff does, but I’m seeing several pieces of matching equipment.”
“I’d like to ask Martin how the hell he knew I was coming to night,” I said.
“He probably didn’t. I think they were setting up for a possible weekend attack and you showed up so they went with it,” Coop surmised.
Michael pointed to the hundreds of cables that went up into a corner and disappeared. He said they were probably buried down the hill to the grave. If we dug, we’d most likely find some of this equipment at several locations in the cemetery. He walked over to a wall of video monitors and began flipping switches. We all sucked in our breaths as one by one the monitors came to life, showing different angles of the cemetery. We stood and watched one monitor in night vision that showed other crime lab members and uniformed officers searching for more evidence around the pine tree.
“How are they getting their power?” I wondered softly, my eyes still glued to the videos.
“I’m sure they illegally tapped into the farm down the road and drew it from them. It’s not that hard, kind of like when people steal cable TV from their neighbors,” Coop answered.
I noticed a silver folding chair sitting in front of the monitors. Martin Drake must have sat here and ran the equipment, watching, while Nicholas was at the grave. I picked up a black plastic piece about a foot long with wires running into it. It reminded me of a power surge outlet protector, but this had buttons that were lit up in red on top.
“I’ll bet that runs everything with the touch of a button.” Michael guessed. “Martin sat here and didn’t have to so much as break a sweat.”
He reached over and turned up the volume on the main monitor we were watching and pushed one of the buttons on the black operating bar. The sound of the crying baby blared through the cemetery, causing all the officers and lab personnel to visually jump. We couldn’t help laughing. Michael turned it off.
“What about my car the day Naomi and I were here? I wonder how they did that.” I ran my finger along a long, silver object that resembled a microphone.
“A lot of that we’re going to have to ask Martin about,” Naomi answered. “If he’ll talk, that is.” She paused and grimaced. “What’s that door?”
I turned to see what she was talking about. We had missed it because it was on the same wall as the steps we’d come down: An old, brown, wooden door right next to the steps.
“Bob?” I called up the stairs. “Did you see this door down here?”
He appeared at the top. “Yup, nothing in it but an old dress and chest with old shit in it. You’re free to dig around. It’s already been processed.”
I looked over at Coop, who merely shrugged and went back to playing with the equipment. I opened the door to the small closet. There was enough light in the cellar to illuminate its entire contents. When I saw the old white dress draped across the wooden red chest, I silently cursed Bob. I walked back over to the steps and called him down. He looked confused until I pointed to the dress.
“Remember how you
forgot
to tell me a piece of material was found in Kari Sutter’s hand? I think you may want to process the dress, since I’m sure the material came from it.” I sounded annoyed.
Bob’s face turned red as he darted up the stairs to grab a plastic evidence bag. He was quiet as he gently put the dress in the bag and carried it back up. I looked at Naomi and shook my head.
I kneeled down in front of the chest and opened it. It was empty, except for an old, faded piece of blue material, a tarnished silver baby spoon, and two yellowed pieces of paper in large, glass picture frames. I took both out and saw they were letters. I yelped out loud when I saw who had written them.
“This is it!”
“What?” Naomi kneeled next to me, looking puzzled.
“These letters were written by Mary Jane and Made-line Hendrickson. Look at the dates, the one written by Mary Jane is dated a week before she died, and Made-line’s was written two months after.” I pointed to the tops of each frame.
“They look like the Declaration of In dependence, for crying out loud. Can we actually read these?” She held one, extending her arm straight out and bringing it back in as if looking though a magnifying glass.
“I sure as hell am going to try.” I stood and walked back into the cellar, taking a seat in Martin’s director’s chair.
It was going to be difficult. The writing was antiquated, and the paper was old. I had Mary Jane’s letter to her sister, Sophia Secrist, dated February 23, 1898. I couldn’t help wondering why she had written her a letter when they lived so close to each other.
The beginning of the letter talked about nothing in particular. One part that caught my attention was a reference to her child, named Ezra, at the beginning. She said he had begun to crawl.
It was the middle and the end of the letter that caught my attention. I read it out loud to Naomi.
“…I came upon that wretched woman’s brother yest’ day. He smiled at me as I carried Ezra through the market place. As I’ve so said, many a time befor, evil surrounds that woman, and now her brother. Her presence is one with Satan himself. Is believing in my gift a sacrifice for others? Being a kindly neighbor I only delivered the remedy for the poison ivy she came upon in the woods, the plant that caused her legs to swell and itch. The brother carries his own evil now, evil that shows through his eyes into my own. I fear for myself and my children as the gift tells me they shall come soon. I have written our cousin Seth and shall be sending Ezra and Madeline along in ahead weeks so they may remain safe and in God’s hands. I my self shall remain to tend to the crops and such, befor traveling to them later. I will write to you and Samuel once I’ve arrived.
Your sister,
Mary Jane”
“That’s kind of creepy,” Naomi commented. “Who’s coming for her?”
“I don’t know, but maybe Madeline can tell us.”
I began to read Madeline’s letter out loud, but stopped as soon as I realized its contents. Then I began again, in silence. Madeline’s letter was also to Sophia, her aunt, dated June 12, 1898.
Dearest Sophia,
I write to you with a heavy heart, knowing I shall join you and Samuel soon. It comforts my soul more to pen you my memory than to tell you in person. The time is now for the secret to be told.
Mother came to me last night in my slumber and told me its time. She told me of the gift blessed to us from our Lord and how it caused her blasphemous demise. You have stayed patient, wanting to know about that night, and now you shall. The grief you shall feel will overwhelm your soul, as it has done mine until Mother came to me.
That night was bitter cold. Mother and Ezra had just arrived in the carriage after their trip to Doctor Nolling’s when they came. And with those fore men came evil, led by the devil. They carried their lanterns bright as they tore Mother and Ezra from the carriage. I watched from the study window. Mr. Randall Rose declared death to Mother and Ezra, for causing the woman to murder her family one year past. Mother tried to tell him it was only remedy for the poison ivy, but he wouldn’t listen. He damned her for giving the almight Ceely Rose the arsenic she used to murder her family. Mr. Randall Rose branded Mother a witch. He said only witches had arsenic, and Mother had given it to Ceely. The others, Albert Tucker, Gerald Moffet, and James Mengert, stood silently with the evil spreading through their smiles. I was scared, scared like I’ve never been befor.
Randall Rose threw Mother to the ground and dragged her by her hair to the large pine that stands in front of our home. He made her neel down and watched as the others threw Ezra back and forth befor using one of the old gravestones to murder him by crushing his small head with it. Oh how Mother screamed. It was as if my soul had been ripped out of my body as I watched them beat her and force their manhood on her, making her have relations with each one of them. I remember throwing up on my dress as this took place. Mother kept screaming as they hung the rope off a large branch. The men stood befor her and declared her again a witch. Mother grew silent and I thought her to be dead. As I heard the words she spoke then, I felt a chill in the room where I stood watching. She spoke in Latin, but I understood. She said:
“The evil bestowed upon you shall forever be upon this ground. Five sunsets shall separate each one of you from your master, Satan, and your deaths shall include pain and suffering felt from the gates in Heaven to the depths of Hell. I bestow suffering upon your relations from the winter, summer,
to the spring, and fall.
I curse each one of you, I curse you all.”
The fear on the men’s faces will forever be burned into my mind. Randall Rose told Mother to Dye Witch! befor he pulled on the rope which embraced her neck. Mother dyed swiftly. As Mother hanged lifeless from the tree, James Mengert poured kerocene on Mother’s body. Randall tried to set her on fire, but only her hands began to burn. I felt as if I might faint into blackness when I saw Randall Rose look up to the window where I stood.
It was too late to hide. Befor I could escape his wrath he had me by my own hair, dragging me to the woods behind the house. He forced relations on me several times befor he stopped. I felt he was going to kill me like Mother, but Gerald Moffett called out to him. He said they needed to bury Mother and Ezra’s body’s befor visitors came calling. When Randall forgot about me, I ran as fast as I could to your house. I hadn’t known you and Samuel were traveling so I hid in the barn, smelling the smoke from the fire they had set that burned our house down. I waited until I no longer heard their voices. I couldn’t tell you when you came home, it was too difficult. You, like the newspaper, believed me that Mother had taken ill. They never even questioned the whereabouts of dear Ezra. Mother kept saying she needed to register his birth since he was born at home with the mid wife but never did.
Now, as the evil seed planted in my womb by Randall Rose grows each day, I feel you must know the truth. Mother told me of the gift last night. I am fearful of it, althou I know I shouldn’t be. The men all died, each five days apart as Mother promised. She said the families of the men shall be forever tormented. I told her of the threats told to us by the families of the men, and the promises of money. They know not of my baby. The secret of their sons shall be kept forever, as not to embarrass them all. She told me the suffering will go on as long as the secret remains. I know she doesn’t understand Aunt Sophia, our need for money; she is in another place.
Alas, as I write to you from cousin Mary’s I pray to our Lord you won’t suffer over this much. I shall see you soon but we shall never talk of this again. The men buried Mother and Ezra benethe the tree from which she hung. I shall never go there.
Your niece,
Madeline Hendrickson
Tears welled up in my eyes and I realized I was looking at the first, and maybe only, record of little Ezra’s death. I felt such an overwhelming sense of grief I couldn’t even speak.
“What does it say?” Naomi snapped. Seeing my tears, she quieted down. “What is it, CeeCee?”
I saw Michael, also looking concerned. He walked over to me with Coop at his side. I didn’t even know where to begin.
I wiped at my eyes. “It all makes perfect sense now.” I took a deep breath. “To sum it up, Mary Jane Hendrickson and her baby were brutally murdered by Randall Rose, Albert Tucker, Gerald Moffett and James Mengert. Randall believed that Mary Jane was a witch and gave Ceely Rose the poison she used to murder her family. In actuality, she only gave her an herbal remedy to treat poison ivy.” I asked Naomi if she had a tissue. She produced one from her pants pocket and I wiped my nose with it. “This woman was forced to watch her baby being beat to death with a tombstone. After they killed her baby, they beat her and repeatedly raped her before hanging her and setting her on fire. And if that wasn’t enough, Randall took Madeline, who had to just sit and watch her mother and brother get murdered, and raped her, getting her pregnant in the process.”