Eve of Redemption (10 page)

“Who’s Katrina?” Burke asked.

“What about Katrina?” Tension gripped Martinez’s voice.

Burke looked back and forth between the two, not sure what to do. Finally, he said, “The girl says that Katrina would understand. Do you know what she’s talking about?”

Martinez stared at him, eyes wide. “My wife’s name is Katrina. How do you know about her?”

Burke shrugged. “I’m just repeating what she said. I didn’t know your wife’s name. What does she mean, ‘Katrina would understand’?”

Martinez sighed. “My Trinny, she knows things. Says angels talk to her. She’s the one who told me to come here. Both my handheld and car radios were dead. Even my cell wouldn’t work, but then the cell rings and it’s Trinny telling me whatever I was looking for was here at the church.”

“Your wife talks to angels?” Burke almost laughed. “Maybe I’m not crazy, then. Or not the only one.”

Martinez’s face hardened. “Don’t you ever say nothing like that about my Trinny, you got that? She’s a good woman, a godly woman. If she says angels talk to her, then you can bet your sorry butt they do.”

Burke raised his hands in front of him. “Hey man, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything. It’s just good to know I’m not the only one with weird things happening to them.”

“Are you two about finished?” the girl asked.

“Do you know why I was brought here?” Burke felt incredibly foolish talking to a person that only he could see or hear, but he needed answers.

The little girl smiled up at him, her tangled red hair like a lion’s mane around her head and shoulders. “The reason Kayla brought you here and the reason you came here are two different things. She brought you to fulfill one purpose, but you really came to fulfill another.”

Burke gawked at such philosophical reasoning coming from a four-year-old.

“I’m older than I look,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll bite,” Martinez said. “What’s the ghost saying?”

“She says,” Burke began, and then shrugged. “I don’t have a clue what she’s saying.”

“And I’m not a ghost,” she said, putting her hands on her hips.

Burke threw up his arms. “And she says she’s not a ghost.”

“Oh?” Martinez said, his lips almost curling into a smile at Burke’s discomfort.

“You know, this would be a lot easier if you could see and hear her, too.”

“You think?”

“Come over here, behind the altar,” the girl said.

The altar rested on a stage two steps high. Burke climbed the stairs and approached the large table that took up most of the center of the platform. As he neared the table, the ghost-that-was-not-a-ghost disappeared behind a curtain at the back of the stage. He motioned for Martinez to follow as he approached the spot where she had vanished. When he reached the curtain he drew it aside, revealing a concealed door. He knew from the many times he had returned here in hopes of finding some answer to his family’s disappearance that this door led to a small office. The door creaked as he opened it. A musty wave washed over him as the long-trapped air escaped its prison. Martinez’s flashlight revealed nothing but dust covered furniture and cobwebs. Burke turned his attention to the floor, but the dust lay undisturbed. Nothing indicated that anyone had entered the room in years.

“Someone forgot to call the cleaning lady,” Martinez said as he peered into the room.

“I saw Red come through here.”

“Ah, her name’s Red, is it?” Martinez shined his light on the dusty floor. “She has a light step, but then what else would one expect of an imaginary friend?”

“She has red hair, so…you know. Red seems as good a name as any.”

“I was just asking.”

Burke moved farther into the room. The cop’s flashlight fought a losing battle against the darkness in the windowless office. Burke reached for the flashlight and Martinez gave it up, willing to let him take the lead for the time being. As the light crossed the room, it lit upon Red standing before a pair of ancient oak file cabinets. At first, Burke felt a strange sense of relief at the sight of the little girl. Her intent and anguished gaze, however, turned that feeling to dread. She held his eyes with her own for a few seconds, and then turned and disappeared into the file cabinets, leaving no trace she had ever been there.

Burke pulled open a couple drawers in the cabinets. They were empty. A quick check of the rest of the drawers yielded the same results. He grabbed one of the cabinets and tried to move it, but it proved too heavy for him to slide on the worn carpet. “Give me a hand, will you?”

Without question or comment, Martinez grabbed one side of the cabinet while Burke pulled from the front. After moving it a couple feet, Burke hurried to inspect the wall behind it. If there was anything to find, he was missing it. He shined his light on the back of the cabinet, but again, nothing. He signaled the other man, and they strained to shift the second cabinet, but disturbed only dust.

“Any idea what you’re doing, or is this a ghost thing again?” Martinez asked.

“I…she vanished into these cabinets. Just walked right through them. I thought there might be something behind them.”

The cop grunted, studying the area with a trained eye. “If not behind, how about beneath?”

Burke gazed at the floor where the cabinets had rested. “Yeah, how about it?” The two men moved the cabinets further out of the way. When they’d cleared the area, Burke knelt down and ran his fingers between the wall and the carpet’s edge. “Carpet isn’t tacked down,” he said as he pulled it back, exposing the wood floor beneath. “And look at this.” He traced a faint line with his finger. “It looks like this portion comes out. See if you can find something to pry it up with.”

Martinez reached into his pocket, pulled out a pocketknife, and flipped out the four-inch blade. “How about this? You think the old friar stashed the offering in there?”

“I think someone stashed something in here.”

“There’s wisdom for you.”

“Okay, okay, just pop this open, will you?” Burke moved out of the way as Martinez wedged the edge of the knife into one of the narrow cracks and pulled back. One side of the panel lifted about an inch, and Burke slipped his fingers beneath it. Together they managed to lift and slide the piece of floor out of the way. Burke grabbed the light and stabbed it into the hole. All he could see was the top of an old wooden ladder that disappeared into the darkness below. He stuck his light as far down as he could reach and could just make out the rough dirt floor at the bottom.

“It’s a tunnel.”

“That a shoe?” Martinez asked.

Burke lowered his head as far as he dared into the hole. “Not just a shoe. Looks like there’s a whole body…or what’s left of it. Male, from the clothing. Been here awhile.”

“About four years?” Martinez asked without thinking. As soon as the words were out, he caught his mistake. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Burke had always known something like this was possible. “This was never found during the investigation. They could have been here all along.”

Martinez looked him in the eye. “Listen. We don’t know anything other than there’s a man’s body in an old tunnel. The guy might have come from the other end and have nothing to do with what happened four years ago.” He shifted his gaze from the tunnel to Burke’s face. “What do you want to do?”

“We go down.” With the decision made, Burke felt a cold detachment creep through his mind, like a glacier clearing everything from its path. “I have to know. I have to know now.” He sat with his feet dangling into the hole, but the cop’s strong arm stopped him.

“Want me to go first?”

He shook his head. “No, I’ll go. I should test the ladder anyway, seeing how you outweigh me by a good seventy pounds or so.”

Martinez nodded.

Burke put his feet on the top rung of the ladder. Gradually, he let his weight settle on it until he was certain it would hold. He tucked the flashlight beneath his arm and carefully made his way down. The old wood groaned in complaint, but held. When he reached the dirt floor at the bottom, he took a moment to survey his surroundings. Wood buttressed the dirt walls of a passage that led only one direction. Thanks to the reasonably dry southern California climate, the wood still looked to be in good shape. He pointed the flashlight down the low tunnel. No other bodies lay in sight, though he couldn’t see beyond a gentle bend perhaps thirty feet down the path. The air smelled of dust and a musky scent he could not quite identify. It put his nerves on edge. Wisps of spiderwebs hung from the ceiling and coated the walls.

“Come on down,” he whispered up toward the opening. He had never been claustrophobic, but he didn’t like being down here.
It feels like a tomb
, he thought. He glanced at the body at his feet.
It is a tomb.

Burke heard the ladder groan beneath Martinez’s considerable weight, but the big man made it safely down. Even Burke would have to duck his head to travel down the tunnel; Martinez would really have to stoop. He felt thankful the width of the tunnel allowed them to get around the body without disturbing it. He squatted at the head of the skeletal remains, while Martinez knelt at its feet. It wore men’s sandals, khaki cargo shorts, and the tattered remains of a Hawaiian shirt. Burke pointed to a hole in the skull. “Gunshot?”

Martinez nodded. “Well, this guy wasn’t raptured, that’s for sure. Two men disappeared that night: the pastor, named Harold Hogan, and the dad of one of the kids.” He gestured down the tunnel. “Let’s see where this goes.”

They had not gone far when Burke stopped. “No,” he whispered. “Oh, no.”

“What is it?”

Without answering, Burke took off down the tunnel as fast as he could without braining himself on the low support beams. About twenty feet up the tunnel, Burke dropped to his knees, the light illuminating another body. He stared at the skeleton, telling himself not to look at anything but the bones. He had already seen enough, though. He’d found the sleeveless white blouse and faded jeans he’d dreamed of almost every night since she’d disappeared. He had seen the dark hair clinging to her skull, too. It was dry and dust covered, but he knew.
Laura
. Uncontrollable sobs racked his weary body. All this time, even in his darkest moments, he had held on to a spark of hope that somehow they were alive. Now shame and guilt tore through his soul. He’d let down those he’d sworn to protect. Tears flooded his eyes, blinding him in a river of pain and sorrow. Inhuman sounds he didn’t recognize as his own burst from his throat. He felt a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off. There was nothing now, nothing for him to care about.

Burke didn’t realize he was beating his chest with all the force he could muster until Martinez’s strong arms wrapped around him from behind, holding him tight. “Stop it, John. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Let go of me,” Burke sobbed. “Leave me alone.”

“Can’t do that. I can’t. I’m sorry…so sorry.”

“They’re dead. They’re dead.”

Martinez began to pull Burke away from the skeletal remains of his wife. “Come on. Come with me.”

Burke struggled at first, and then allowed himself to be led back the way they had come. Once they reached a spot from which Martinez couldn’t see Laura’s body, he set Burke against the wall.

“Stay here,” Martinez said. “I’ll see what else is up there.”

“They’re dead,” Burke collapsed to the ground, sobs wracking his body.

“I know. Just wait here, okay? Promise me you’ll stay right here.” No promise came, but Burke made no attempt to move. The cop hurried down the tunnel and returned minutes later.

“Listen to me now. There are no more bodies—only the two. The tunnel ends at a wall about thirty feet beyond where we found your wife. Understand?”

Burke raised his tear-stained face.

“Nine people disappeared—three adults and six kids. Only two bodies down here. Your daughter may still be alive.”

Sara might still be out there. Something inside Burke grabbed hold of that thought and held onto it like a lifeline.

“Hey,” Martinez said, pulling Burke from his thoughts. “Something moving down there?”

Burke looked to where Martinez pointed, down the tunnel where Laura’s body lay. He did see something moving, coming toward them. He aimed the flashlight in that direction, and the tiny shape of Red emerged from the shadows. Tears streamed down her small face, leaving streaks in the dirt. As she approached, the scent of roses in bloom replaced the stale smell of the tunnel.

“You see her?” he asked Martinez.

“Something out of the corner of my eye.”

“It’s Red. She’s coming this way.”

“Your ghost? Wow, it really is…wow.”

Burke watched as Red drew closer, until she stopped in front of him. Gently, she leaned over and kissed his forehead, pressing a tiny hand over his heart.

Then she vanished.