Boo Who (44 page)

Reverend Peck, escorted by a deputy and Sheriff Parker, arrived at the jail. Reverend Peck did not know what to expect. It seemed to him it was Sheriff Parker and the gang that had lost their minds. But according to them, Dr. Hass was the mad scientist, a “cloning doctor” who was using their town as bait. As they were walking up to the jail, after the deputy was out of earshot, the sheriff added, “And we believe they may have taken Melb.”

“Melb Cornforth?”

“Yes. The person we’ve been calling Melb might be her clone,” the sheriff whispered.

And Reverend Peck thought
he
was having a midlife crisis.

Once inside, the sheriff instructed Reverend Peck to be at the very least coy. “I’m not expecting you to be a professional interrogator,” he said, “but try to get a confession out of him. You’re a pastor. People like to confess to pastors.”

The reverend glanced at the sheriff. “So you’re expecting something like, ‘I’ve been cloning people for years. You finally caught me’?”

The sheriff smiled. “Something like that.”

A deputy led the reverend back to the holding area. In the fourth cell down, he could see Dr. Hass sitting on his cot with nothing to do but stare at the sheriff’s cat that was pacing outside the bars.

Dr. Hass’s face lit up when he saw him and he stood. The deputy unlocked the door and the reverend entered. So did Thief.

“Thief, not so fast,” the deputy said, swooping the cat up and carrying him outside. “Ten minutes, gentlemen.”

Dr. Hass sat back down on the cot. “Thank you for coming.”

Reverend Peck stood by the door. “This is pretty odd. What are you in for again?”

“Cloning.”

“Cloning.” The reverend shook his head. “So … that’s kind of different.”

“Yeah,” Dr. Hass said with a smile. “Never been accused of that before.” He laughed, but his face was tinged with sadness.

The reverend leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together, giving his full attention to Dr. Hass. “Well, I suppose there is a reason you wanted me to come today, isn’t there?”

Dr. Hass nodded somberly.

“Is there something you want to tell me?”

Dr. Hass nodded again.

“Something hard?”

“Yes.”

Reverend Peck swallowed. He’d seen a lot of things in his years in the pastorate, but if this man confessed to cloning, that might be enough to do him in. “Go ahead,” he said, his heart thumping against his chest.

Dr. Hass looked up at him, looked down at the floor, glanced up at him again, sighed, bit his fingernail, ran his fingers through his hair, winced, chewed his lip, and then looked very distant.

“Take your time,” the reverend said, morbid anticipation about to eat him alive.

After a few more minutes of silence, the reverend couldn’t imagine what this man was about to tell him. So he said, “Dr. Hass, let’s start with something simple.”

“Okay.”

“You know, I must confess something myself.”

“Oh?”

The reverend smiled warmly. “I don’t even know your first name.”

“Oh.” Dr. Hass sighed and stared at the cement again. “Well, that’s not simple either.”

“But it’s a start, right?”

Dr. Hass sighed. “Yes, it’s a start.”

“Okay, well, go ahead. Tell me your first name.”

“It’s Jack.”

“Jack. There you go. Jack!” The reverend said heartily. But then he frowned. “Your … your … um … Your name is … Jack …” The reverend cleared his throat.
“Jack Hass?”

Dr. Hass shrugged. “Let’s just say I’ve spent a lifetime living up to my name.”

Ainsley had finally gotten Melb to lie down for a while. In the kitchen, she leaned against the counter, pinching her eyes closed to try to hold in the tears.

So much was happening, and never in her life had she felt more overwhelmed. She was trying to stay strong for Melb, trying not to think of the many implications attached to Oliver’s disappearance. Yet there was nothing else on her mind. Melb was devastated, even hinting of her fears that he had left; her.

Someone knocked at Melb’s front door, so she went to answer it, hoping it was Wolfe. Instead, Alfred stood there grinning.

“Ainsley, my dear, you have been a hard woman to track down!”

“Alfred,” she breathed, trying to muster up a smile. She couldn’t. “What are you doing here?”

“We were supposed to meet this afternoon, remember? Talk about final design?”

Ainsley stared through Alfred. “Oh.

“Hello? Anybody in there?”

She looked at him. “I’m sorry. Something came up.”

“Hmm. Well, looks like you’re free now, so why don’t we—”

Ainsley lost it. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “I’m not free,
Alfred! Okay? Something terrible has happened, and I’m trying to help my friend!”

“Oh,” he said. “I’m sorry. What’s wrong?”

“Oliver is missing!” she cried.

“Missing? The Oliver of the Melb and Oliver wedding?”

“Yes,” she said. “That Oliver.”

Alfred practically shoved his way inside the house, closing the door behind him. “Ainsley, this is not good!”

She blinked through her tears.

“We have to have a groom! The whole show is centered around a wedding!”

“Alfred, that is the least of my concerns right now,” she sniffled.

“Well, it’s my first concern,” he said gravely. “I have sunk a lot of money into this, Ainsley, and I am not going to let it just fall apart four days before it’s supposed to take place.”

She went to the kitchen, her trembling hands trying to grab a glass to get a drink of water. “I don’t know what to tell you.”

He sighed. “Keep me posted, please.”

“Fine, I’ll keep you posted.” She felt so incredibly fatigued at that moment the room spun around her, and she quickly slid onto a barstool to steady herself.

He walked to the door, smoothing out his expensive coat and pulling on his leather gloves. “Ainsley, are you up for all of this?”

She managed to look at him. “Up for all of what, Alfred?”

“When you hit it this big, things get really difficult. You hit problems, and you deal with them. I know that sounds hard-core, but it’s the way it works.”

“We’re talking about a human being missing here, Alfred. I’d say that’s more than a problem.” And add to that the fact that she and Wolfe were hardly speaking.

“It’s a problem like any other problem.”

“Does it take a cold heart to get to the top?” She could not help but glare at him.

“Of course not,” he said, his charming smile returning. “Just a brave one.”

And with that, he left. She put her head on the counter and shut her eyes.

Oliver was not privy to the plans the eight were making concerning Dr. Hass, which suited him fine, to tell the truth. The motel room door opened suddenly, and he gasped.

Douglas entered, looking around the room for something, barely acknowledging Oliver. “Okay,” he finally said. “Come with us.” He took Oliver’s elbow, pulled him out of the chair, and guided him firmly out the door. The rest of the clones stood gawking at him.

Oliver was so terribly frightened he wanted to scream. But they screamed, and he thought maybe that was some odd sort of ritual or something, so he thought it better to keep his mouth shut.

“We’re traveling in two cars,” Douglas said, to nobody in particular, and then they split up in two groups. Douglas took Oliver.

In about fifteen minutes, they were in front of Dr. Hass’s house. Oliver wanted to stay in the car, but instead he was pushed out the side and led up the sidewalk. Douglas knocked on the screen door, with everyone behind him. He glanced at Oliver. “You better fess up, Oliver,” he said. “That’s the only way we’re going to get this guy, you understand me?”

Douglas knocked again, but again there was no answer.

“Hey! Hass!
We know you’re in there!” Douglas yelled, scaring Oliver half to death. He then yanked open the door and marched inside. After a few minutes, he returned. “Nobody’s there, except a really fat cat.”

Suddenly he frowned, a deep, anxious frown. And so did everyone around Oliver. They were looking at one another with complete astonishment, exchanging emotions that he could not understand.

Douglas shook off the moment and looked at an older woman who had approached. “You looking for the fella who lives here?” she said.

Douglas nodded.

“Took him to jail earlier.” She pointed in the direction of Main Street.

“Thank you,” Douglas said, then looked at the others. “Let’s go.”

Reverend Peck could hardly believe what he was hearing. Dr. Hass was talking a mile a minute, and though he had not confessed to cloning, he’d confessed to nearly everything else under the sun.

He’d been married a number of times, had been bankrupt twice, and was in the middle of telling Reverend Peck of the twenty-year drug habit he’d kicked a decade ago, when a bunch of people came into the jail. The two men could hear their voices echoing through the corridors.

“Stop!” That was Sheriff Parker’s voice. “Oliver?”

“Stay back,” came another voice, unfamiliar. “I said stay back!”

“Oliver, are you hurt?” asked the sheriff.

“I’m fine. Do what he says though, okay?” Oliver said.

Reverend Peck was very confused about what was going on as he and Dr. Hass stood at the cell bars.

“We’re here to see Dr. Hass!” the voice said, and then a bunch of people agreed.

Reverend Peck looked at him. Dr. Hass was shaking his head. “Oh no,” he said with evident dread.

The reverend didn’t have time to ask questions, because before he knew it, a crowd of people was coming around the corner, headed straight for their cell. He recognized a few of them from church that morning, especially the lady who’d inquired about cats.

“You!”
a skinny man said, pointing a stern finger toward Dr. Hass.

Dr. Hass held up his hands, gave a shifty smile, and backed away from the bars. Reverend Peck decided he’d better do the same thing.

“Douglas, hello,” Dr. Hass said in a quavering voice.

“Don’t you ‘hello’ me,” Douglas said back at him, now fully in front of the bars. “What do you think you’re up to? Huh?”

“Up to?” Dr. Hass grinned.

Suddenly Oliver was shoved to the front, and Dr. Hass’s eyes shifted back and forth between the men. Douglas said, “He told us everything.”

Oliver stared at Dr. Hass. “Unbelievable. I should’ve known what you were up to.”

Dr. Hass sighed, sitting on his cot and slumping.

“You deceived us,” Douglas said through gritted teeth.

Dr. Hass nodded, sadness plaguing his features.

“How could you do that to us?” Douglas said.

And suddenly Oliver spoke up. “don’t you understand what you’ve done to them?”

Dr. Hass looked at Oliver. “You were the one willing to take money to get them out of your town.”

“True,” Oliver said, “but that was before I knew what was going on! You said you could help them. I thought you could help them! Instead, you’ve created a nightmare!” Oliver looked as though he was about to cry. “They keep saying they want their money back, but I imagine what they really need back are their souls!”