Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2) (15 page)

She turned and continued walking towards the point where she and Derek were supposed to wait for John's call.

"I just told you that I'm falling for you, and all you do is walk away?" Derek yelled. "Damn it, Maggie."

Derek stood at a point of the path that was several feet lower than where Maggie had just turned and walked away. As she walked, Derek watched as she slowly walked down the other side of the small hill until only her shoulders and head were visible. He stood there, not knowing what to do or to say as Maggie's head slowly sank out of his view. It was then that he saw him.

Darting towards Maggie from the land side of the Way, and moving with fixed focus on Maggie. The suddenness of the man's appearance and the swiftness of his movements stunned Derek. It was only a second before he yelled to Maggie and began charging up the hill.

"Behind you," he yelled as he climbed the small hill, desperate to see Maggie. When he reached the summit, Maggie was nowhere to be seen. Just like his chase of the strange visitor the night before, the Way's twists and turns prevented Derek from seeing more the 20 feet of the path before it turned sharply left or right.

"Maggie," he yelled again. Straining to hear anything coming from the path ahead, he sprinted as quickly as he could, down the short decline, across the short stretch of the path then slowed his pace to make the path's sharp left turn.

Still nothing in his sights.

"Maggie," he called again, then increased his speed. The path stretched out in front of him for another 20 feet then turned sharply right, up into a tree lined area of the path. He charged the distance, his eyes set not on the path in front of him but towards the tree-lined area.

As Derek barreled past the trees lining both sides of this part of the Way, he recognized that the small hill he was climbing was where he and Maggie were to wait for Ron's call. But Maggie was still not in sight. He pressed on, up and over the hill. As he was about to yell for her again, he crested the hill and saw that Maggie was standing, arms tightly crossed against her chest, at the bottom of the path's rise.

Had Derek been running in the summer months or if the Marginal Way was clear of snow and ice, he would have been able to stop his charge, not have slipped onto his back, bowled Maggie off her feet, and sent her crashing to the frozen ground.

"That's a hell of a way to get a girl's attention," Maggie said, apparently uninjured from the collision.

Derek scrambled to his feet and assumed a defensive position, his sights bouncing in different directions.

"Where is he?" he asked.
 

"Where is who?" Maggie asked.

"You didn't see him?"

"See who?" she said, her voice much quieter and dripping with worry.

"Did you hear me yelling at you?"

"Yes," she said. "I chose to ignore you."

"Maggie," Derek said after determining that the area was safe and that, whoever he saw had either never existed or had been scared off by Derek's yells. "When you turned and walked away, a man came out of the trees and started after you."

A deep chill blanketed Maggie. It started at her arms before racing across her back and finding its center in her lower back.

"Are you sure?" she asked, already regretful of asking the question.

"You didn't see, hear, or feel anything?" Derek asked, his words still racing with concern.

"Nothing. I just walked away. I was walking pretty fast but not too fast that someone couldn't have caught up to me if they wanted to."

"The tracks!" Derek said, as his eyes grew wide. He turned and quickly moved up and over the hill. He stopped when he was no more than 15 feet away and called for Maggie to follow him.

"Sorry," he said when she drew closer. "I almost left you alone again."

"What are you looking for?" she asked.

"His tracks."

Holding Maggie by her arm, Derek turned, and the two began walking back towards where Derek thought he saw the man begin his follow of Maggie.

"I came down this path pretty quickly and wasn't thinking about being careful not to mess up any footprints, but I didn't run through the trees where he walked out of. Unless I was seeing things, he must have left footprints behind."

"You are standing awfully close to someone you think is dangerous. Aren't you worried?" Maggie said, her voice both teasing and accusing.

Derek was tangled in Maggie's eyes. He didn't reply but, instead, pulled Maggie closer to him.

"Whoever it was," Derek said, raising his hand and pointing off the path just ahead of where the two were, "came charging out from those trees." Looking at the snow covered ground, Derek stopped walking, dropped to one knee, then looked up at Maggie. "Here. Do you see it?"

"Oh, my God," she said as she tracked the footprints leading from the trees off to the side of the path to the print that Derek was kneeling next to.
 

Derek stood up, grabbed Maggie's hand and walked with her up to where the footprints started. The two looked closely and saw the footprints that proved that someone had been standing, well concealed in the thick trees.
 

"These tracks show that whoever or whatever was standing here started following you from this point."

Neither could find any prints that indicated from which direction the man had come from.

"It's just like the footprints of the man who tripped you," Maggie said, her face quickly becoming drained of color as the terrifying possibilities of what they were up against started to register in her mind. "They appear out of nowhere. Derek," she said, "what is going on here?"

"I don't know," he said. "But we need to figure this out before someone gets killed." He retrieved his iPhone from his pocket and checked the time. "We need to get back to the meeting point before Father John calls."

Maggie and Derek walked back to the designated meeting point, both desperate to find evidence that whoever had charged after Maggie, had split off his charge and had left footprints that they could follow. When they reached the point where the prints ended, they both paused and both nodded to each other.

"Gone. Just gone into thin air."

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Father John Flannigan wasn't the only one who thought offering spiritual support to the residents and staff of the nursing home was a good idea. He sat in a large waiting room with no less than six other clergymen. The nursing home administrator thought it would be a good idea to have them all sit together in one room while the nurses and nurse's aides went about asking residents if any would like to speak to a priest, rabbi, minister, or cleric.

"I do appreciate you all showing up here," the administrator said once the seven were collected and gathered in the room. "But I feel that having you all wandering about the floors may create a sense of panic in our residents. If anyone wants or feels the need to speak to someone, I've instructed my staff to ask their religion. Then, I'll send word to you all, and, whoever covers a specific religion will be told which room to visit."

"I know that Ron was a Catholic," John said. "I'd like to contact his family to offer my prayers and support as well. Can you get their number for me?"

"I've been in contact with Ron's family. They didn't mention a desire to speak with a local priest. But if they call again, I will ask them. Sound fair?"

John was getting nowhere. He had arrived at the nursing home before his scheduled 10:30 time and had immediately and politely been escorted to the lounge on the second floor. He glanced at his watch and saw that his 10:45 scheduled call to Derek had passed. He needed to get to the third floor porch, check the aim of the telescope, and make the call to Derek.

"I need to stretch my legs," John said to the others in the room. "If Nurse Ratched comes back," he said, alluding to the nurse in 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest,' "tell her I needed to use the restroom."

"Should we figure out a series of warning whistles to alarm one another?" the rabbi joked.

"You know," said a minister, who was clenching a bible in his right arm, "there's gotta be a joke about this. A priest, rabbi, a Baptist minister, and four Protestants walk into a nursing home...."

John slipped through the door as his cellmates erupted in laughter. He made his way to the nearest stairwell and, after making sure no one was watching him, quickly walked up the stairs. Once on the third floor, he opened the door, checking the hallway before casually walking out into the hall. It took him a moment to realize that the porch was located in the opposite direction from where he was headed. He ducked into a patient's room, where a nurse greeted him.

"Father," she exclaimed. "I just about to send word that Mr. Price would like to speak with you. How did you know without me saying anything?"

"I had a feeling," John said.

Once the nurse left, her face filled with wonder and amazement, John stood at the side of Reginald Price's bed. The radio alarm clock that sat on Reginald's nightstand read 10:59. John hoped that Derek and Maggie were okay and that they would understand his delay.

"Hello Father," Reginald said. "I was hoping that a priest would show up."

"How can I help you?" John said. He was angry with himself for wishing that whatever Reginald wanted to talk about would be quick.

"All those policeman were walking around here last night and this morning. No less than five of them asked me if I saw anything."

"And did you?" John asked.

"The only thing I've seen in the past two months is the nurse's face when she empties out my bedpan."

"I am sorry that you aren't feeling well. What did you want to talk with me about?"

"All those policeman asked me if I saw anything," Reginald said again, "but not one of them asked me if I knew anything about Ron White."

"And do you? Do you know something about Ron?"

"I know that he asked me to keep something safe for him," Reginald said. "I didn't know Ron that well, but he did stop by every so often. Yesterday, he dragged himself in here, sat down, and asked me to do him a favor. Seems he felt that he was in some type of danger. He asked me if he could put a notebook in my drawer and asked me not to say anything to no one about it, except for a private investigator named Cole."

"Derek Cole?" John asked, his excitement palpable. "He said to give the notebook to Derek Cole?"

"That's the name. But since I don't get around too often, I don't think I'll have the chance to contact Cole and let him know I have something for him. Hell, I don't even know who he is. Excuse my language, Father."

"I know Derek Cole quite well. He and I are friends. I can give the notebook to him, if you'd like?"

Reginald nodded towards the nightstand. "It's in there beneath a whole mess of magazines that I'll never read. Take it to him for me, would ya?"

John pulled the drawer open and removed a leather-bound notebook.

"Not sure what is in those pages," Reginald said, "but I can tell you that Ron seemed pretty nervous about something. Seems like he had reason to be, huh Father?

"It does seem that way," John said. "Is there anything else you wanted to talk with me about?"

"Nah," Reginald said. "I ain't even Catholic. Just get that notebook to Cole and let him know that Ron wanted him to have it, okay?"

"He will have it today. And it's best that you don't tell anyone else about this notebook. Just in case."

"My memory the way it is, I'll probably forget about the whole damn thing by supper time tonight. Excuse my language, Father."

"No problem. And thank you."

#####

Derek and Maggie were standing, facing each other. Derek was explaining the contents of the notebook and trying to resolve why Ron wrote "Danger" after Maggie's initials.

"Maybe he thought that I was in danger?" Maggie offered.

"Could be," Derek said. "Why do you think Ron felt that you knew more about whatever it was that he was investigating than you let on?"

"I don't know," Maggie said, still feeling that Derek suspected her in some way. "Maybe because whenever Ron asked me about Jack, I usually just changed the subject. My question is, why was Ron White investigating Jack? Was he a retired cop or something?"

"I don't know," Derek admitted. "I haven't heard from Ralph Fox yet and was hoping that you'd be able to get info on Ron from his family."

"I did try to call them this morning before I left to bring Robby to school. There was no answer."

There was a long pause in their conversation. Maggie locked her eyes with Derek's and both stood, not knowing what to say. It was Derek who finally spoke.

"Maggie, I don't know exactly what's happening here. Not only with this case but also with how I am feeling for you. All I know is that when I read that note about you either being dangerous or in danger, I puked my guts out."

"Romantic," Maggie said.

"I have a way with words. It's not that I don't want to know if what I'm feeling for you is the same that you are feeling for me, it's just that I have to figure this whole case out before anything else."

"I understand," she said, moving her body closer to his. "And once we figure this all out, I have some things I need to take care of as well." She reached out and grabbed Derek's hands. "Then we can talk about what to do since you and I are feeling the same way about each other, okay?"

Derek couldn't hold back the smile that filled his face. The urge to pull Maggie close to him was building to a point that he knew he couldn't withstand. If it wasn't for the vibrating cell phone in his pocket, Derek knew that he his would have succumbed to his driving urge and kissed Maggie Bryant.

"Sorry it took me so long," John said. "Not that it's any of my business, but you two are standing awfully close to one another. Hope I didn't interrupt anything? Or maybe I should be glad that I might have interrupted something."

"Father," Derek said as he stepped away from Maggie and turned his head towards the direction of the nursing home. "Can you see us?"

"Well, since I just said that you two are standing awfully close to each other, I assumed that it was obvious. The telescope was still on the porch, and it is aimed directly to where you two are standing."