Coming Home (Norris Lake Series) (22 page)

“We’ll this isn’t the last of this discussion.  I would feel safer if you were here at the house.  But since you are going to be hard headed about it, you’d better be careful or I’ll tan your hide.  You’re a grown woman but not so grown that I can’t put you over my knee,” his voice stringent in the authoritative voice she remembered from her youth. 

“I love you too, Dad,” Caitlyn cooed warm in knowing she was still precious to the first man in her life.

“Yeah, me too, Caitlyn,” he softly said once he heard the click of the receiver.  “Take care.  I love you, baby girl.”

Knock. Knock.  She stood up from the computer and limped toward the door, peaking through the side window before opening it. 

“I thought I told you to stay at your father’s house tonight?  You shouldn’t be alone,” Ben declared sternly.

“You want to come in or would you rather argue on the porch?”

“I don’t have time to come in.  There’s a junior high football game tonight and it’s bound to be a busy evening.” 

“Thanks for caring about me, but I would rather be here at home.  I have some work to do.”

“What would that be?  I thought you were on break.”

“I might as well tell you.  I received a threatening email a few days ago and have been trying to locate the sender.”

“What?  You received a threat and didn’t take it seriously enough to report it?”

“I have received threats before.  Sometimes the kids in my Cyberforensics classes send them to me just to see if I am smart enough to catch them doing it. It doesn’t necessarily have anything to do with what’s happened.”

“Well it might.  Have you had any luck?”

“No. I can trace it back to a non-existent account.  Whoever sent it is very smart and technologically astute.”

“Is there any way I can talk you into going to your father’s?  Or maybe having someone come stay with you?  How about Jesse?”

“Ben, I will be safe enough here.  I can’t spend my time worrying about what might happen.  I can’t let myself be a victim any more. It’s making me old before my time.” 

“Okay you hard headed woman.  You irritate me more than I ever thought possible.  Whether you like it or now I am going to have a black and white drive by a couple of times tonight and check on you.”

“That’s not necessary.”

“Well it might not be for you, but it is for me, because you are making me grow old before my time too.” 

The Sheriff’s radio kicked on an alert.  I have got to go.  “Call the station if you see or hear anything suspicious or track down the sender of that email.”

“Yes, sir,” she said with a little salute.

He shook his head and walked down the steps to his car.

Chapter 19

Whack!  The door to the apartment slammed behind him.  The air around him sizzled with electricity as the anger rolled off of him like steam off Old Faithful. 

He logged on to his computer and with a few expert finger strokes entered the forum’s site.  He was full of energy and felt so powerful he imagined that he could do anything.

That bitch.  He sat in the darkness of his own abode thinking of the perfect vengeance, the perfect crime.  He would be the author of such an event and no one would ever know it was him.  He’d done it before and he could do it again.  He’d become part of the darkness rather than the light, thus his handle, Warlock. 

He was a man broken and then reborn under a new identity, more powerful than before.  Even his looks had changed over the years. It was a romantic notion, he thought, smiling to himself. 

But back to the issue at hand.  The condo project was going forward as planned.  He’d already tried to stop the project and to deter Caitlyn but unsuccessfully.  Now what?  She had to fail and he’d make sure the old man fell off that high horse of his too.  He’d lived with this burden long enough.  Day after day every time he looked in the mirror he heard a voice speaking to him as if it were a ghost standing by his side and whispering softly into his ear.  The ghost drove him night and day as she had since the day she’d died.  Vengeance, retribution, failure, death, disappointment, murder, shame, disgrace, the words repeated over and over in an endless litany. 

Even when he was working, shopping or doing any other normal daily task, the voice was still there as an undercurrent in a river with an otherwise peaceful facade. He not only heard the voice but also could smell the moldy wet fishy stench associated with the backwash of a lake.  It wasn’t just any lake but rather a distinctful smell from a long ago.  It was the smell of a cove at Norris lake. Sometimes, but not often over the years, he heard the ghost standing at his side.  He knew she was there.  She was just out of sight but within his peripheral vision, but when he turned around to look at her, she would be gone. Who haunted his conscience?  He thought he knew.

Leaning back in his chair, he propped his feet up on the desk and looked out his 2nd story window at the night.  There was no moon so the only light was the stars.  They were like pinpricks of light showing through a heavy black blanket.  The only other light was one from the small outdoor light next to the sliding glass doors of his back porch which glowed a ghastly yellow. 

In one hand he held a clear blue tumbler filled with Bookers fine bourbon and on the table sat what was left of the bottle.  He’d worked his way through half of it finding his mind was more creative when he was aided by spirits. Laughing to himself, he said “Aided by spirits.”  Hell he was always flanked by spirits whether he wanted to be or not. He looked down at the glass swirling the liquid around the ice cubes and held it once again to his lips, the both sweet and sour smell of hops filled his nostrils.  With one move, he finished the glass and reached for the bottle again. 

He would have to make her more than frightened, he said to himself, but how to do that without getting involved or bringing focus on himself?  He’d already been the target of police scrutiny and didn’t want to be under that microscope.    He’d have to think about it some more. 

Putting down the glass, he flipped on the monitor for his computer and waited for the signature Windows sound.  He logged on to the internet, humming softly.  He started a program in the background and within minutes had hacked into the Norris town hall database.  With a few more deft moves, he was in the police records. 

He spent a few hours looking through the history of murders, suicides and missing persons.  He then switched to the Norris paper’s archives and proceeded to research the same topics. 

After hours of research, he had an idea.  He could tie the disappearances that had taken place during the town’s history and the recent murders into a viable means to achieving his goals.  It was brilliant.  Tie them all together with some planted data and misinformation.  It would lead the police and anyone else to the wrong conclusions and away from him.  He’d just start planting some seeds around town.  He’d lead that bumbling Sheriff down the right road.  Yeah, right to the wrong guy but away from him.  He leaned back in his chair once again, poured the rest of the bottle in the tumbler and finished it in one gulp.  Smiling he pushed himself away from the computer and closed his eyes.  Yes, this was going to work perfectly.

Chapter 20

Ben opened the door of the Sheriff’s office and walked out into the cool sunshine of the autumn day.  He breathed in the smells of the small city holding every contented moment deep within.  There was the aroma of warm rolls and other pastries baking at the Corner Café Eatery and leaves burning in a large pile in a metal barrel at the edge of the park that ran along one side of the town square. 

The park surrounded the town on two sides boasting quaint turn of the century houses of which half were now commercial establishments.  On the far side of the park was a railroad line now obsolete with an old passenger cars and a red caboose used as part of a children’s playground.  In the middle of the park was a tall Grecian fountain with five gravel paths radiating outwards beneath tall oak and maple trees like warped spokes on a wheel. It reminded him of the old style labyrinths of England. The Stout’s carriage horses were penned in a large lot a block away which added sweet cedar shavings, straw and manure to the town’s perfume.

The Sheriff’s office stood on the square in a white brick two story building wedged between the town newspaper and an attorney’s office.  It was a stone’s throw from the SugarLand Ice Creamery, Thompson’s Books and the Old Tyme Hardware, three of his favorite places.  When he wasn’t working, which was rare, he indulged himself with either a book and dish of French vanilla ice cream in front of the SugarLand or puttered around his old cottage using discount items from the hardware store. 

Two years ago, he’d purchased a cottage just off the square at the edge of the park when he took the job in Norris.  The rundown 2-bed room house, though perfect for his needs, still needed a lot of work.  Currently, he was working to replace the hardwood crown molding throughout and then was planning to steam off a hideous bright orange flowered wall paper harassing him from the bathroom.  The cottage was within walking distance of his office which he liked since gave him immediate access to town in case there were any issues, not that many issues arose. 

The most recent problem had been a mysterious disappearance which the paper was terming murder.  There hadn’t been any murders thus far within Norris proper or the surrounding county, but a few young women had gone missing. Jenny still occupied his thoughts. It was a puzzle with a capital P in his world. He wasn’t a man who liked ambiguity or the unknown especially when it had to do with his responsibilities.  Hadn’t
Caitlyn mentioned her doctoral degree was in forensics?  He sure could use some help from her.  Evidence had to surface first though.  Speculation wouldn’t help Jenny.  He sincerely hoped she was just another runaway.

There was also this issue with Caitlyn.  He’d gone by to pick up her dog only to find her at home.  Irritated with her pigheadedness to stay put, he’d put a deputy on an hourly drive by and called Dominic Lawson’s work only to find out that the General Manager of Daybreak Pontiac GMC was at work at the time of Caitlyn’s accident.  He mused, putting one hand to his thick reddish hair, that didn’t mean he didn’t plan it or put someone else up to the deed, but it did mean he wasn’t crazy enough to do it himself.

He’d have to take his fishing pole out this evening and sit for a while on the bank of the river below Norris dam, fish for rockfish and think.  Most of his revelations came when he was doing mindless relaxing tasks like fishing. 

Standing there in the sunshine, he watched the mid-day crowd hurrying through their daily routines.  He turned to the sound of the adjoining building’s door as the bell signaled its opening.  A familiar figure stepped out of the building and smiling strolled toward him.  Jesse stood in front of Ben holding out her hand.  Ben grasped it in a friendly shake and they stood for a moment’s exchange.

“Hey Sheriff”.

“Good afternoon, Jesse. “

“How’s your day going? “

“Can’t complain.  You? “

“I am up to my elbows in research for my new book. “ 

“What’s your book about? “

“It’s going to be about a mystical people from this area and the creation of Norris by TVA.  It should be interesting; a mix between fiction and non-fiction like a historical fiction novel.  I would like to add some local color so have also been looking into the mysterious disappearances over the years. “ 

“I’d be interested in hearing what you found, Jess.”

“How about we go take a table at SugarLand and swap stories, sheriff? “

Ben hitched his thumbs in his belt loops and thought for a moment. “I guess I could spend a minute with one of our new citizens especially if it includes a warm slice of apple pie topped with vanilla ice cream.“

“Sounds good to me, young man. “

“Come on then, I’m buying. “

They walked to the corner and then two blocks to SugarLand Ice Creamery, stopping a table just inside the door where they could watch the passersby.  Ben took a seat with his back to the wall and a good view of the street.  Ben was cautious by nature, but every police officer Jesse knew practiced this custom so they could not be surprised behind by an attacker.  Jesse took a spot across from him.

“So tell me about these mysterious people and your research.“ the sheriff asked.

“You know I was left a house in this region a couple years ago.  As it turns out, it wasn’t a house but rather just a chimney and basement.  The house burned down years ago.  When I came to see the house, I fell in love with the town and bought my home over on the lake near Point 19. 

When I was looking through the basement of the house, I found several boxes full of pictures and books.  One of books was a diary from a girl, Carol Ann.  The journal her day to day life.

Aside from that, this group was driven out of the Tennessee valley, long before it was Norris, when TVA flooded the valley to building of Norris dam.  It seems the entire group died.  They refused to move and their homes were flooded.  The high priest of the sect put a curse put on the people who settled Norris as he died.  The curse says there will be a plague on the perpetrators of the crimes against this sect with the loss of their family line which I interpret to mean children.

“There aren’t too many original settlers of Norris left, but there are some lines that have continued. For instance, the Tarlington’s were an original family line.  If you look back through all of the historical documents which include TVA documents, Norris newspapers, books, and so forth, you can see a pattern of disappearances which was alarmingly high at first but now has dwindled. Maybe someone is trying to make the curse come true or maybe you have a true supernatural phenomenon on your hands.“

“So why are you so interested in all of these disappearances?” Ben asked.

Jesse leaned back in her chair, pensive. “You know I had family at one time here in this area, but am not sure what happened to them.  Maybe by searching through the missing, I will be able to locate someone close to me.”

“Okay that makes sense, but how does this tie in to the disappearances we’ve seen lately?“ 

“I don’t know that yet.  If you go back further you’ll find Beth Kane was a member of an old family line and she mysteriously went missing as well.“ 

“Curses, mystical religious sects seems like a far stretch from reality in my book.  My job dictates that we use forensics and fact, not psychics and tarot cards.  Those supernatural investigations only work on TV where media moguls try to boost ratings,” Ben argued. 

“Well no harm in probing around.  It may not be fact but it is great fodder for my new novel and it gives me a chance to look into my own past,“ Jesse smiled.

“Jesse, you heard about the incident with Caitlyn, I assume?“

“Yes, I did.  Did you find out who tried to force her off the road?”

“Still investigating.  Tell me about her husband.  He’s a natural choice in my book. No pun intended.”

Ben put his menu aside and nodded to the waitress who came over and took their order; a banana split for Ben and a hot fudge sundae with marshmallow and nuts for Jesse.  The waitress scribbled on her pad and then left. 

Jesse, put her napkin in her lap with the anticipation of her upcoming treat. “I’ve not met Caitlyn’s husband and she doesn’t talk about their break up.  She gets quiet whenever I have probed for more information. 

I do know that they had a falling out and that she finally took matters into her own hands and left him so they could both have time to think of what they want out of life.  I know she was very wealthy but wasn’t happy and hadn’t been for a long time.  Based on what I have heard from other townspeople and what little I have learned from her, he may be an arrogant prick, excuse my French, but wouldn’t try to kill her.  She’s very much in love with him but not sure what to do to get his attention.  He’s all about work.” 

“Well, we’ll see.   There are too many coincidences here.  It could be that Dominic is behind the fire at the condo project and when that didn’t scare his wife into coming home, he pushed it a little farther to have someone try to run her off the road.  In the end, maybe if she were too afraid to stay in Norris, she might decide to go home,” Ben said thoughtfully.

“Perhaps.  I’ll have to leave those investigations up to you.  I am concerned about Caitlyn though so if I can be of any help, just let me know.  But right now, help me unravel the story behind the disappearance of the girl, Beth Kane.  It seems to be the most recent mystery that I have happened upon in my research.” 

They stopped their conversation as the waitress set a sundae in front of each of them. 

“Do you need anything else?” the server asked.

“No that will be all.  You can leave me the check,” Ben smiled up at the young girl.  “And tell your dad that I will take him up on that fishing trip soon”.

“Yes, sheriff, I will.” The teenager grinned, cheeks flushing pink.   

Ben continued taking a mouthful of strawberry topped ice cream.  “I have to tell you that Caitlyn’s brother was an integral part of the mystery, as was a young man named Stephen. And at the time she went missing Caitlyn’s brother, Michael, was dating Beth. 

One evening, the group was out on a houseboat near the caves at Point 19 and there developed an argument between Michael and Beth. She simply dove into the lake.  Supposedly, Beth went ashore and then disappeared off the face of the earth.  There was a huge search for her but nothing was ever found.  It was only a short swim to shore.  All three boys searched and came up empty.  All the kids were excellent swimmers too.

I guess the blame for the incident turned to Beth’s boyfriend, Michael Tarlington. With the support of Robert Tarlington a very powerful, politically connected individual, which you know is Caitlyn’s father, Beth’s disappearance was pinned on Stephen, Beth’s brother.  Then Beth’s second younger brother, Jeremy, ran away.

You should ask
Caitlyn for the details and by the way Stephen wasn’t really Beth’s brother; he was adopted by the Kane family when he was very young.  From what I hear, Stephen was odd in looks and mannerisms, so was the target of a good deal of criticism and innuendo.  Stephen was tried and convicted by the public, he never stood a chance. 

To get away from the public scorn and insinuations about his son’s involvement in the disappearance, Sheriff Kane moved his family from Norris to Johnson City.  I hear it was a tragedy all around.  Stephen was hospitalized, in an asylum of some sort.  He was pretty broken up about his sister.  The sheriff’s youngest son ran off and his wife died of a broken heart.  I’ve never asked Caitlyn about her recollection of the incident.  She was there, as were a couple of others who are now upstanding townsfolk.” 

“Give me their names and I will do some more digging. Maybe the disappearances are related, maybe not.  Maybe I’ll turn up a connection and tie that into the book as well.” 

“Leave me your email address and I will send you their names and contact information,” Ben agreed.