Part I of a Ghost story.

The Trap

The smell of fresh cut grass wafted across the fairway like perfume at a débutante ball as the last of the night mists fled the coming of another sunrise. Crystalline droplets of dew dripped from the undergrowth in the rough surrounding the 7th hole and the golf course was quiet except for the occasional call of a bird and the low hum of insects. Sunrise was only a promise lightening the eastern horizon.

The sand trap just to the right of the 7th green was as smooth as silk, no track or mark blemished its surface, unmarred by the dozens of errant shots that would find their way into the teardrop shaped hazard as the day wore on. Every morning, before the grounds keeper repaired the previous day’s after effects, the course’s sand traps looked like battle zones in spite of the careful raking by the golfers who would blast their way out of the traps sending showers of white sand in all directions as they rescued their stranded balls from the clutches of the hazards. At this early hour no hint of the day’s events marred the peaceful scene at the 7th hole.

As a large black beetle scuttled across the desert expanse of the sand trap on a desperate journey to reach the oasis of green waiting at the other side a meadowlark dropped out of the morning sky and snatched the hapless insect from the unprotected sands. The lark stood for a moment enjoying the tidbit about to fly away when suddenly it found itself below the surface, swallowed in darkness, it’s beak filling with sand as it chirped its last frightened cry. No movement marred the smooth surface of the trap. No sign remained that bird or bug had ever been there. The day came and went. Twilight shadows crept across the 7th hole.


When the lights and noise of the clubhouse were far behind her Megan stopped running and stood panting in the soft evening light. “Damn him!” She screamed and fell sobbing to the grass. The 7th hole was far enough out on the course that only a faint hint reached her that the party was still in full swing in spite of her absence. How could she have been so stupid? Why had she ever believed Jack? She could see now that all of his assurances of love and devotion were only lies. Once he had gotten what he’d wanted from her he’d thrown her out like yesterday’s trash. Then to make matters worse she was late. She’d planed to tell him tonight at the country club’s annual spring season kick off banquet only to discover that she wasn’t invited and that Jack was taking someone else. She’d decided to dress up in her finest and show up anyway. Her plan included causing the biggest scene possible. When she’d arrived she found that Jack’s parents were also at the party, sitting at the same table with the mayor and other city dignitaries, the upper crust of Jackson Falls. And worse yet there sat Allison Greer draped all over Jack like a cheap coat. Megan stood in the entrance as the steward repeatedly asked her for her invitation until she turned and ran from the clubhouse until she had finally stopped on the 7th green.

As her sobs subsided she stood, surveyed her surroundings, and after several deep breaths of the cool night air which cleared her head she decided to go home. Then from behind her she heard a soft grating sound like sand spilling out of a pail. She turned to find only the empty night. The sand trap gleamed in the darkness. The grating sound was repeated and she thought she could see movement on the surface of the white sand. She walked to the edge of the green and bent to get a closer look.

She couldn’t make out anything but the undisturbed surface of the trap. ‘Must be my overwrought imagination.’ She thought and as she turned to retrieve her shoe from the green she slipped, tried to get her balance then fell backwards, tumbling into the sand trap landing on her back.

She felt herself sinking as she lay there gasping for breath. She tried to sit up but was immediately sucked back into the sand. ‘This can’t be happening.’ Her mind screamed. She couldn’t get her breath. Her legs had disappeared under the sand and as she began to struggle first her arms then her chest slipped below the surface of the trap. She found her voice and screamed. Sand rushed into her mouth and down her throat cutting off her cry. First her face then the top of her head disappeared until only a few strands of her hair were left at the surface. In a grinding swirl of sand, she was gone. The quiet returned to the 7th hole. One white shoe sat alone on the green gleaming in the twilight.

The Jackson Falls police department had long had the reputation as a bunch of good ole boys whose chief was the goodest good ole boy of them all. The force could be counted on to keep the peace while overlooking a few minor indiscretions by the members of the Jackson Falls Rotary Club, Country Club, etcetera, etcetera. A call from an influential father could usually get a member of the Varsity squad released from custody and most youthful infractions kept quietly out of the public eye. A word and a promise from the mayor that he would speak to the offending citizen regarding a spouse’s bruises or even a black eye kept many a member of “The Clubs” from being prosecuted. Yet out-of-towners who broke the law were severely dealt with. Judge Jenkins had no mercy for the occasional miscreant who wandered over to “The Falls” from its larger neighbors.

Chief Harvey Lawson stood in the morning sun on the 7th hole thinking and partially listening to the various conversations going on around him. Although he had asked Steven to close the golf course and requested that only police personnel be allowed out to the 7th hole it seemed like the whole damn town was gathered around the green this morning. It looked like a gallery on the pro tour. A regular who’s who of Jackson Falls stood just outside of the yellow police barricade tape putting forth one theory or another as to the whereabouts of one Miss Megan Riley.

Harvey’d received the call at 9:00 AM from Steven Hails the course manager. Megan’s little red Mazda was still parked in a tow away zone at the unloading doors behind the clubhouse. That and her high-healed shoe had been found out on the 7th green by the first foursome of the day. Amazingly enough they had left it lying in the grass undisturbed until Harvey arrived. Megan had last been seen at the social the night before at the clubhouse. Mr. Hails had commented that she appeared upset and had left the party crying. He volunteered that everyone was aware of her relationship with Jack Mason. When her Mazda and then her shoe were discovered he had been suspicious. Harvey was also aware of Steven’s hatred of Jack Mason because of several incidents on and off the golf course. So far it seemed that perhaps Steven’s suspicions might be founded. After several phone calls the whereabouts of Megan Riley was still unknown. She hadn’t showed up at work. Her roommate had not seen her since the night before when Megan had left for the party.

Megan’s father had talked to her on the phone yesterday but not since. The Mazda was being towed down to the station where they would go over it from end to end, top to bottom. Harvey hoped that Megan would materialize, hung over, teary eyed, but none the worse for ware. He hated the idea that something might have actually happened to her. Megan was a former Homecoming queen, head cheer leader, pretty and likeable. After graduation she’d stayed in the Falls and went to work as a receptionist for Dickson and Dickson, the local attorneys office. She had dated Jack Mason for quite some time and it was assumed by a few, who didn’t know Jack, that they would eventually get married. Harvey knew better. Jack was the kind of man who used a woman until he found another interests and then discarded her like yesterday’s dirty shirt.

Harvey turned to the crowd and spoke just loud enough to get their attention. “Hey now folks. Why don’t we all just go on back to the clubhouse for now and we’ll let you know if we find something.” Of course he had no intention of telling this bunch of jackals anything. They thought of him as lumbering and dull witted, a perception which he cultivated, so he played to the crowd. They grumbled but turned in mass and marched toward the clubhouse for brunch and drinks.

Officer Jerry Wells watched the crowd depart and snorted. “What a bunch of sheep.”

“Wish you’d have kept em out of here Jerry.” Harvey grumbled at the officer.

“You know that bunch Harvey. I tried but they started throwin' their lawyer’s names around and talking about law suites and how they would have my badge. I didn’t need the aggravation so I figured as long as we had the barricade up they couldn’t hurt anything.” Jerry complained.

Harvey stood and stared at the white high-heeled white shoe lying innocently yet ominously on the green of the 7th hole. A light breeze moved the flag and once again Harvey hoped that Megan was OK. He walked around the green and looked again for anything that might tell him what had happen here and where Megan had gone. The shoe lay about five feet away from a sand trap, tipped on its side. Harvey walked to the edge of the green and studied the trap. Its smooth surface lay unmarred by any tracks or marks.

Jackson Falls’s entire five-man force had scoured the golf course and surrounding area this morning. They had searched all of the out buildings, groves of trees, water hazards and anyplace where a body might be hidden. Nothing had turned up except this one shoe on the 7th hole. Joe Sampson, the diver from the county sheriff’s office would be here soon to search the lake at the far end of the course and any other bodies of water, including the river, in close proximity to the golf course.

Harvey’s radio squawked to life causing him to jump.

“Hey Harv.” Susan Johnson’s voice broke the quiet. “I just got off the phone with the clinic. The topic of conversation got around to Megan Riley and guess what?”

Harvey waited.

“Well, Janet just happened to mention that Megan was in the other day for some tests. She was worried that she might be in a family way. Turned out to be a false alarm but we can all guess who the prospective father might have been. Just thought you might be interested.” Harvey shook his head. Now the whole town knew. Everyone had a scanner and listened eagerly for anything that might break the monotony of another uneventful small town day. Yet there were some advantages to being a policeman in a small town. The flow of information, accurate and inaccurate, gushed out of phone lines, beauty parlors, bowling alley, and bars in a never ending stream of useful tidbits that only needed to be sorted and mentally filed for later use. Susan Johnson was better at gathering information than two detectives and she seldom had to leave her dispatch desk to collect all kinds of interesting facts. Harvey wished though, not for the last time, that she would be a little more careful when using the radio.

The chief began making a mental list of suspects just incase Megan Riley did in fact become a missing person. Number one on that list was Jack Mason. He bent and retrieved Megan’s shoe and put it into a plastic evidence bag. After instructing Jerry to leave the barricade tape up and to tell Steven that the course would be closed for at least today, he went to his car and sat for a moment studying the serene beauty of the manicured fairway.

Jackson Falls seemed for all the world like a very sleepy little burg yet underneath the quiet surface lay hidden all the ugly, terrible secrets that cower behind locked doors and shuttered windows. There had only been one murder in “The Falls” since Harvey’d been appointed chief twelve years ago. That homicide had been quickly solved and the murderer put to death upstate two years later.

For some reason Harvey felt deep down in his gut that this was indeed a murder and that perhaps it might not be as easy to solve as the one ten years before. He needed to find Megan Riley and he needed to find her fast even if it meant calling for help from the county sheriffs department. He’d hated to ask for a diver but had no choice. Now he weighed whether or not he wanted to deal with the County Sheriff, Frank Watson. Frank was an arrogant, self-aggrandizing, son of a B. who would like nothing more that to up stage Jackson Fall’s police force. “Wait and see.” Harvey concluded and left the golf course.

Jeb Smoot studied the sand trap on the 7th hole. The police barricade tape was gone. Steven “High and Mighty” Hails had insisted that Jeb remove it because several of the regulars wanted to get in at least one round today. There’d be hell to pay when “The Chief” found out.

But what could Jeb do? He was a paid employee of the golf course who only followed orders. “Full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes.” was his motto when given a direct order by Steven. Even when he knew the order was wrong he wouldn’t argue. He just did what he was told and lived with the consequences of management’s stupidity. Over the course of a month he had blearily began to notice that he never had to mess with the trap on seven. Even though most golfers made some effort to smooth the sand after they wedged out of the trap the course manager insisted that Jeb smooth every trap first thing in the morning before he started work on the rest of the course. “Like Jackson Falls’s private course was some hoyty toyty big time course that didn’t want to offend the big names that might play here.” Jeb chuckled to himself.

This place didn’t even have a course pro since the last one had run off with the mayor’s wife a few months ago. But they still acted like it was some big name place and insisted, with constant threats of termination that Jeb keep up the highest standards of appearance. How was he supposed to do all that they required with only one good for nothing helper?

“Nothin to do but follow orders.” Jeb saluted, stepped off of the green at seven, and began to carefully smooth the already smooth trap. In an instant he was up to his chest in warm, white grit.

“What the!” he yelled.

Then the smooth white sand was pouring down his throat cutting off his screams and gritty darkness filled his wide-open eyes. With a grating swirl he was gone and silence once again returned to the 7th hole.

“Hey Chief.” Harvey’s radio squawked. He’d just sat down to breakfast at Molly’s café. His mind poured over the events of the day before. The diver hadn’t found a thing except golf balls, old tires and a girdle in the lake. Judging from the girdle’s large size, Harvey knew that it didn’t belong to Megan Riley but had it sent to the lab for tests anyway. Someone had taken down the police barricade tape at the 7th hole and the scene was useless now. Not that Harvey felt there was anything there anyway but he’d called the steward to complain and been transferred to the mayor who’d just finished eighteen holes himself.

“Don’t get overly upset Chief. I’m sure that Steven misunderstood your officer’s instructions. I’ll speak to him myself and remind him in no uncertain terms that from now on he should make sure that he understands and follows your orders. Got to go.”

Harvey had squeezed the phone until it began to crack then hung up and went for a walk. He found that in order to keep his blood pressure from killing him he had to do something to get away from the job. A short walk around the block usually calmed him down to the point where the veins in his temples stopped throbbing and he didn’t have the uncontrollable urge to strangle the nearest person in sight.

“Hey Chief.” The radio squawked again.

“Ya.” Harvey growled.

“We just got a call from the golf course. It seems that the head grounds keeper Jeb Smoot is missing. He didn’t report for work this morning but his pickup is at the machine shed at the course.”

“Call Allen and tell him to get down there. I’ll be there in half an hour.”

‘Now this was getting out of hand. Two disappearances in as many days.’ Harvey thought as he finished two runny eggs, toast, and ham. He gulped down the last swallows of lukewarm coffee and hurried to the register fishing for his wallet. Mary Saxon sat behind the counter filing her nails and chewing a very large wad of gum.

“So what you think chief? Did Jack Mason kill that little girl or what?”

Mary Saxon filled her much too small, stained, waitress uniform to overflowing. Her ample frame bulged the seams to the point of bursting. Her voice boomed and every head in the café turned to hear the response.

“Now Mary, you know I can’t talk about a police investigation.” Harvey hurriedly paid the check and left. This could turn into a three ring circus if he wasn’t careful. Driving toward the golf course Harvey dialed the county sheriff barracks on his cellular. With a second disappearance he knew he definitely needed some help. Frank Watson eventually came on the line.

“What do ya need Harvey?” Just the sound of Frank’s voice raised Harvey’s blood pressure by five points.

“I wondered if you’d mind giving us a hand? We’ve had two disappearances in the last two days. Both suspicious. Both associated with the golf course.” Harvey kept his tone level and tried not to give the impression that he was desperate for help.

“We’re pretty busy right now Harv. With Congresswoman Jefferson coming in from DC this weekend we’ve got security to cover. I don’t know if I can spare the manpower.”

First term Congresswoman Roberta Jefferson owned a summer home on Willow Lake in the mountains a few miles south of Jackson Falls. She spent one or two weeks vacationing in the area most summers. She shopped in town, played golf and tennis with some of the locals and generally kept a low profile. After her election to congress the previous year she had become a local celebrity even though the majority of Jackson Falls wouldn’t have voted for her. The only security Frank Watson supplied consisted of a regular patrol of the lake which his office did year round. The fact that Harvey and Roberta were friends supplied Frank with ammunition to infer that they were involved in an illicit relationship when ever he had opportunity.

“Unless you’re providing her security Harv? Know what I mean? Ha ha.” Frank laughed.

“No, I don’t know what you mean Frank.” Harvey growled. “Look, I could really use the help here. Can you just let me have a couple of deputies for a few days while we figure this out?”

Harvey knew Frank waited for a “please” but he’d be damned before he’d beg Frank for anything no matter how desperate he was. Finally Frank coughed and muttered. “I guess we can send you our new guy. A collage graduate smartass who knows it all. That should help you out Harv.”

“Thanks Frank. I appreciate it.” Harvey muttered. Pulling into the golfcourse parking lot he could see a small crowd gathered around Allen’s patrol car. Steven, the mayor, and several of his cronies were in animated conversation with Harvey’s junior officer. Harvey sighed, took several deep breaths and got out of the car. He was immediately surrounded.

“Chief. We need to find Jeb immediately. We have a crisis here. The course must be ready for the weekend. Congresswoman Jefferson will be here tomorrow. This will be a disaster. We cannot have police cars parked on the course everyday. How will it look?” Steven demanded.

“Harvey may I speak to you for a moment in private?” asked the Mayor.

While Allen tried to calm the rest of the crowd Harvey and the Mayor walked to the practice green.

“Listen Harvey, we’ve got to do something here. Congresswoman Jefferson is arriving this weekend with several guests from Washington to play in a golf tournament, play some tennis and attend a banquet in her honor here at the club house. Now how will it look if you’re conducting a missing person investigation here at the course with your yellow crime scene tape draped everywhere? Bad, that’s how it will look. So this is how we will proceed. You will postpone missing persons investigation and remove any barricades until after the Congresswoman leaves. Then you can start again on Monday. I’m not asking Chief, I’m ordering.”

The Mayor marched away toward the club house and soon the others followed leaving Harvey standing alone on the practice putting green. Birds sang in the trees overhead, insects bussed about the bushes, laughter drifted down from the club house. Several minutes passed before Harvey shook himself and moved toward his car. The years of placating the Mayor and crowd had now come home to roost. He might have a serious missing person case or even a double homicide on his hands. Hands which were hog tied by a bunch of “better than thou” small town big shots.

“Nuts!” he yelled and charged back to his car.

“What do you want me to do Chief?” Allen Crawford timidly inquired. He knew better than to raise Harvey’s ire after learning a hard lesson about the Chief’s temper his first day on the job a few months ago. After running over the Chief’s foot in the parking lot with his Harley, Allen tried to keep a low profile.

“Go back out on patrol, go home, go jump off a cliff. I don’t care Allen.” Harvey shouted.

Allen quickly got in his patrol car and left. Harvey sat in his car and thought about how to proceed.

“Chief.” The radio crackled to life. “We got a situation at the 1st street Mini Mart that you might want to handle personally.”

“Call Allen.” Harvey snapped into the microphone.

“No Chief. I think you’ll want to respond to this one. It’s your mother.” Susan said.

Things were going from bad right on past worse to catastrophe. Alice had escaped the home again. Although the staff at Sleepy Rest promised to keep her under control Harvey’s mother would find ways to leave the grounds undetected and be found in any number of embarrassing places and situations. The last incident had been only a few weeks ago. Alice had turned up at the high school in the girl’s locker room standing in a steaming shower fully clothed screaming at the top of her lungs about monsters in the desert while the third period PE class stood huddled in the locker room giggling and laughing. Harvey arrived and had gently led his soaking mother out to his car. Alice’s condition was worsening rapidly. Although she was in great shape physically for an eighty five year old her mind was gone. She would be lucid for short periods of time only to lapse into long stretches of maniacal raving. Monsters were her new fixation. She warned Harvey of their existence in confiding conversation at his weekly visits. She insisted on calling him Michael although his older brother had been dead for over twenty years.

“Michael,” she would whisper. “The monster is out there waiting. Take your iron.”

“You know that I always have my weapon with me Mom.” Harvey assured her.

The Mini Mart parking lot was blessedly empty as Harvey pulled up to the front doors. Billy Mathers waited at the entrance.

“She’s back at the chip rack Chief.” Billy smiled sympathetically.

Alice sat on the floor surrounded by a pile of opened snack bags contentedly munching on handfuls of salty treats. She looked up at Harvey and smiled.

“Hello Michael. Won’t you join me for breakfast?

As Harvey helped her to her feet he turned sheepishly to the attendant.

“What do I owe you for the damage Billy?”

“Twenty aught to about cover it Chief. She only opened a few bags. She seems to like the cheese puffs best.” Billy chuckled.

On the drive back to the Sleepy Rest Alice munched on the remainder of her cheese puffs which painted her mouth and fingers bright orange. Harvey bemoaned the loss of the once vibrant woman who only a few years earlier toured the world with his late step father. After an accident in China took her third husband from her Alice had returned to “The Falls” and promptly began loosing her sanity. Doctors diagnosed alzheimer's and since she was no longer able to care for herself Harvey had reluctantly signed the papers and moved Alice into the Sleepy Rest Retirement Home.

“Do you believe in ghosts Michael?” Alice asked turning from the window and gazing intently at Harvey.

“I did once but not any more Mother.”

A few nights after his brother had been killed in a violent head on collision out on Route Five Harvey had awakened in the early morning hours to find Michael standing by his bedside. Harvey had screamed and screamed until his mother’s boy friend Boyd had yelled up from downstairs.

“If you don’t shut the hell up I’ll get my belt and give you something to scream about.” Boyd had threatened.

Harvey had hid under the covers and begged his brother to go away. Michael stood ominously by the bedside and quietly kept watch until the sun came up. When Harvey broached the subject of his brother’s visit to his mother weeks later she’d slapped him and told him to never say anything like that again. She had fled into her bedroom and slammed the door. Harvey could hear her muffled sobs as he sat on the hallway floor and silently wept.

“You’ll find them in the bottom of the seventh.” Alice informed him while chewing on another mouthful of cheese puffs.

“Ya. But in which game Mom?” Harvey replied.

After depositing Alice at the Sleepy Rest with the assurances of the staff that she would be watched more closely Harvey drove to the station. A sheriff’s department SUV sat in his spot so Harvey parked across the street and walked into the station expecting to find Frank Watson sitting in his office with his boots resting on Harvey’s cluttered desk top. Instead he found a pretty young woman setting patiently outside his office door.

“I’m Leslie Alvarez. Frank Watson sent me.” She said as she stood and held out her hand. Harvey put her age at about thirty-five. She was very pretty, slender, and Hispanic by the sound of her accent. What Harvey didn’t need was any more distractions thrown into the mix. Leslie Alvarez would defiantly be a distraction to his force most of whom were single including himself.

“I’m on loan to the sheriff’s office from the state drug task force. My background is in investigation and forensics. Frank thought you might use my experience.” She smiled.

‘Yup, that there smile was defiantly a distraction.’ thought Harvey as he recovered the case file from a pile of reports on his desk.

“This is everything we have so far.” He said handing the file to Leslie. “Not much here. One of my officers is bringing in Jack Mason now for questioning. We’ve interviewed everyone even remotely associated with the two missing people. Nothing turned up in Megan’s car nor Jeb’s pickup. The only thing connecting the two is the golf course. Jeb has no priors so we are not considering him a suspect yet.”

“Where are you Cinderella?” Leslie asked as she examined the shoe in the evidence bag.

Harvey sat on the edge of his bed and kicked off his boots. The alarm clock on the night stand read 2:00 AM. It had been a long day. Leslie had insisted on looking at every piece of evidence, questioning every suspect including Jack Mason who was very sullen and uncooperative until Harvey had threatened him with a few days in lock up. Leslie had also insisted that they go out to the course to examine spot where the girl’s shoe had been discovered. They had spent over an hour at the seventh hole as she looked at the green from every angle. She was very thorough. They had arrived back at his office at midnight and spent another hour recapping. Finally he’d had enough and told Leslie to come back tomorrow he was going home. He lay on his unmade bed not bothering to take off his uniform and closed his eyes knowing that he’d never be able to fall asleep.

Harvey sat in the 5th row just off of first base. A runner stood on second. The pitcher stood shaking his head waiting for the catcher to give him the right sign. The smell of popcorn, green grass, and cigar smoke filled the stands. Harvey was so excited to be at the game that he’d forgotten to stop at the restrooms before they had found their seats. Now he really needed to go. Michael sat to his left gorging himself on a hotdog. Alice sat to his right sipping warm beer from a paper cup.

“Their in the bottom of the seventh Harv.” His Mom calmly stated although Harvey knew from looking up at the scoreboard that the second inning had just started. His bladder would no longer let him sit quietly so he told Alice that he had to go and fled towards the men’s room.

Most of the late comers had made it to their seats so the shadowy alleyway between the old Baxter Building and the stands was empty except for two guys impatiently waiting for their dates outside the ladies room. The men’s room stood at the far end of the alley. When he arrived at the men’s room door Harvey stopped short. There were no lights on and the smell of urine and something else cloyingly wafted out of the darkness of the lavatory. Harvey looked up at the other end of the alleyway. The two men were still standing there waiting so he didn’t dare go right here where someone might catch him. The longer he waited the more uncomfortable he became. Finally he couldn’t wait any longer and plunged into the dark bathroom.

The door swung closed behind him and darkness wrapped itself around him like a damp blanket. The putrid smell of rotting flesh assaulted him and he tripped over something lying on the tile floor. He screamed as he slammed head first into something solid, cold, and damp. He rolled against the wall and sat whimpering in the dark. He couldn’t see a thing yet he knew that not far away from where he cowered lay a corpse. He knew it because he had felt it’s legs as he had fallen. One hand had touched a bare leg, ankle, and then foot. His hand had dislodged a shoe from the other foot when he had tried to break his fall. Harvey knew as sure as the sun would rise that it was Megan Riley lying there rotting in the dark. Then he heard the sound. Someone was whispering in the dark, urging him to quit whimpering. He held his breath and listened as well as he could above the thundering of his heartbeat. It almost sounded like sand spilling from a pail.

Then the voice came out of the darkness.

“Quiet. Shush. Don’t worry. It will be quick.” Harvey could feel himself sinking into the pool of slime on the floor and screamed.

The far away ringing of a phone wrenched him from the grip of the nightmare. Harvey rolled out of bed and stood in his dimly lit bedroom. His heart pounded, he couldn’t remember where or when he was. As it continued to ring he made his way to the hall and picked up the phone.

“What?” he grunted sleepily.

“Chief?” the caller asked. “It’s Leslie” After a long pause she continued. “From the Sheriffs office. You told me last night that we would get together this morning. It’s eight o-clock. Your cell must be off. Are you OK?”

“Ya. Sorry.” Harvey grumbled. “I’ll be at the station in an hour. I’ve got something to check out before I come in.”

He hung up and stared out the kitchen window at the gray, cloudy morning. The tattered remnants of the dream where drifting away. He tried to remember details of the nightmare but only the dread remained. His bladder throbbed.

‘When did they tare down Barker Field?’ Harvey thought as they waited for the light to change. He must have been eleven or so when the area had been leveled along with the Baxter mill, and the cannery to make way for the new golf course construction project.

The only baseball played in ‘The Falls’ now were little league or high school games. He missed the days when the Jackson Falls Cubs farm league games where the highlight of his summer days. Those were magical afternoons reserved for just the three of them. Mom never went to the games with any of her men friends. She took only her two special boyfriends Harvey and Michael.

“Your mother was married to Jacob Tipton.” Leslie mused from the passenger seat.

Someone further back in the line of traffic honked impatiently not knowing that a unmarked police cruiser sat daydreaming at the intersection. Harvey smiled and drove on just as the light turned yellow.

“Yes. He seemed like such a normal guy too. Who knew that beneath that quiet exterior lurked a mass murderer?” Harvey quipped.

Harvey remembered that rainy afternoon so long ago when he had walked home from school to find town cop cars parked in front of their Brown Street house.

“See ya round kid.” Jacob had grinned as he was being led away in handcuffs while Harvey’s mother sat in a puddle of rain on the front porch sobbing.

Alice had packed Harvey off to Grandfather Gilbert’s until the jury of eight good men and four fine women sent Jacob to ‘The Chair’ for the disappearance and murder of eight victims in three states. Some of Harvey’s most vivid memories of those days were the times when he and Jacob would set at the kitchen table after school and eaten peanut butter sandwiches that Jacob made using Alice’s large butcher knife.

While Harvey washed down the sandwich with a coke Jacob would stare at the knife and mumble,

“Nothing like a sharp knife. A good sharp knife can cut through most anybody.” Harvey shuttered at the memory of his mistaken and naive conclusion that Jacob was obsessed with peanut butter.

“Not many people remember my short stint as Jacob’s stepson.” Harvey commented. “Or maybe I would have ended up leaving ‘The Falls” like so many others in my class have.”

“I wrote my thesis on the Tipton case.” Leslie commented. “Your name rang a bell so I went back through my research this morning. How long did you live in the same house with him?”

“‘Eleven months of wedded bliss.’ is what my mother referred to our time with Jacob as until the day they came and took him off to jail. After that she never spoke of him again.”

“He went by Harold Findley and is suspected of murdering his wife and a step son in Kansas. There was a lot of blood at the scene but they never found the bodies. His six year old step daughter was found alive, hiding in cornfield after the county sheriff responded to an anonymous call. Three bodies were discovered in an abandoned storage tank in Ohio where he went by the name of Bradford Jenson. As part of my thesis I had tests ran on evidence from that case and they matched Jacob Tipton’s DNA. As you know he’s suspected of committing more murders here in Jackson Falls although only one of the bodies was recovered. Deloris Medford’s mutilated body was found entombed in plaster behind a wall in the ladies restroom at the ball park when Barker Field and the Baxter Mill building were demolished.” Leslie recited. She stopped talking and they drove for several blocks in silence.

“Sorry.” she said. You of all people probably know all of the details but I sometimes can’t stop myself from going on about it. It’s a very interesting case.”

They turned on to a quiet street and drove until they saw the police cars and ambulance parked at Jack Mason’s home. Harvey hadn’t used the siren because there was no hurry. The victim wasn’t going anywhere with the large hole the twelve gage had put in his chest.


“He never had a chance Harv.” The corner Dr. Cook shook his head as he uncovered the bloody mess that was once Jack Mason. The call had come in just after Harvey had arrived at the station. Megan Riley’s father Mike had waited for Jack this morning at his front door. Mike had even called 911. The traumatized twelve year old paper boy was the only witness. Open and shut case. No mystery here. ‘What is going on around here?’ Harvey thought to himself as Leslie questioned Dr. Cook. Mike Riley was now sitting in a cell. His daughter was still missing and Harvey was starting to get that panicky feeling in the pit of his stomach that he always got when he felt like his life was spiraling out of control.

“Get some eggs Harv.” Michael’s voice echoed in his head.

He and Michael had developed a secret code because of Alice’s intense and sometimes frightening objection to them using what she termed ‘vulgar and disgusting’ references to the human anatomy. So Michael had started using eggs as a substitute when he wanted Harv be a man or at least act like one.

One summer night when Michael was trying to get Harvey to do something crazy, daring, or just plain stupid he slipped and used the code in front of Alice. They nearly laughed themselves into a coma when Alice curtly advised them that there were plenty of eggs in the refrigerator if they really wanted some.

‘Get some eggs Harv.’ He repeated to himself. He needed to get a grip before the situation spiraled into chaos.

“Chief, I would like to go back to my motel and go over my notes if you don’t mind. I’m thinking that our prime suspect will be lying in the morgue. I’m sure with a little effort we’ll be able to tie up the loose ends.” Leslie said as she stood in his office doorway.

“Sure. I’ll see you in the morning. We’ll start again tomorrow.” Harvey sighed. She looked beat and he was dead on his feet. Leslie took the case files and left the station and he began to nod over his desk. His cell phone vibrated in his pocket bringing him out of a sound sleep an hour later.

“Ya.” he croaked.

“Harvey this is your mother. You come home right now! I need to see you. It is a matter of life and death! Come now! I’ll be waiting up.” Then the line went dead.

‘Was that a dream?’ Harvey thought groggily staring at his cell phone. How had his mother gotten his cell phone number? And secondly where had she called from? They didn’t let her use the phone at the Sleepy Rest. But checking the calls received queue on his cell confirmed that he had indeed received a call. But the number listed didn’t make sense. Fear brought him fully awake.

Seeing the number brought back memories of a rainy afternoon long ago when he’d called home from the school office phone in response to an urgent request from his mother. He knew their old Brown Street home phone number the second he saw it on his cell. “See ya round kid.” echoed in his mind as he tried to sort out the inconsistencies that spiraled around him. The Brown Street house had burned to the ground two days after Jacob Tipton’s execution. He and Alice had been staying at a friend's and had lost everything except the cloths they had packed.

Rain splattered the windshield as Harvey drove across town. He knew that he was acting crazy but he damn well knew that he wouldn’t sleep until he had seen the vacant, weed choked lot on Brown Street. The Sleepy Rest had confirmed that his mother was safely asleep in her room after he had insisted that the groggy and very uncooperative night nurse personally check on her while Harvey stayed on the line. As he drove through the sleeping town dread gnawed at him.

Brown Street and the surrounding area had never recovered from the layoffs at the mill, and cannery. Only a few of the thirties vintage row houses were inhabited by lifelong welfare cases or recovering, paroled, waiting to be evicted hard cases. The dead lawns were full of the once proud remnants of the tenants mobile status rusting in the downpour. Then suddenly there it was. Eleven forty-seven Brown Street.

He pulled into the cracked and broken driveway and the cruiser’s head lights shined through the pouring rain. There, through the downpour, he could see his mother standing in the middle of the broken and charred foundation. He sat dumbfounded for a full minute before he dragged himself out of the car and hurried to where she stood. Her rain soaked night gown hung from her skeletal frame and she smiled up at Harvey through her lank hair.

“I knew you’d come. You always were a good boy Michael.”

“Come on Mother. Let’s get you out of the rain before you catch your death.” Harvey growled. He was going to raise hell with the folks down at Sleepy Rest. Especially this evening’s lying night nurse.

“No!” Alice screamed and pushed violently away from him.

“You must listen to me. He’s back. He’s here in The Falls. You must stop him Michael before more terrible things happen.” Her face was wild and terrible in the stark light of the curser’s headlights.

“He came to see me tonight. I told him to leave and never come back. I frankly informed him that I wanted nothing more to do with him. But he laughed. And that laugh froze my bones.” The terror shone in her tear filled eyes.

“Save us Michael. Save us before it is too late.” She wildly looked around the vacant lot as if expecting some unspeakable horror to attack her from out of the rain soaked darkness.

“Who came to see you mother?” Harvey asked.

“Jacob Tipton of course. Jacob, my horrible mistake. He’s back in town and he said that he’d dropped by before his tee time to see why his wife hadn’t waited for him. I ran Michael. I ran away as fast as I could to warn you. You must believe me.” Alice cried.

And then complete clarity came into her eyes and she held Harvey’s face in her cold hands.

“Harvey, he is terrible beyond belief. I knew it back then but choose to ignore it to my eternal and everlasting shame. He is even more terrible and evil now.” Then the moment was gone and a vacant expression filled her eyes.

“Please Mother let’s at least get in out of the rain.” Harvey begged.

She allowed herself to be led to the police car. Harvey opened the passenger door and helped her into the seat, fastened her seat belt and was careful not to shut her in the door. He went around the car then looked back at the spot where his childhood home had once stood and a cold shiver shook him. Anxious to leave the place he quickly got in the empty cruiser. He sat there in shock staring at the fastened passenger seat belt lying in a puddle of rain water on the empty seat.

“I’ve lost my mind.” Harvey calmly mused. “The stress has finally taken its toll and I’m completely bonkers.” He quickly scanned the area illuminated by the headlights but knew instinctively that his mother wasn’t there. He knew in his heart that she had never really been at Brown Street tonight. He started the car and slowly drove the rain soaked streets of Jackson Falls to the Sleepy Rest retirement home. The night nurse became very accommodating as soon as he awoke from a sound sleep and discovered the police chief standing in the doorway. They both went to Alice’s room and found her lying on the floor of her bedroom dry as a bone, stiff as a board, and as cold as a stone. She’d been dead for many hours. Her face wore an expression of utter terror and wet sand spilled from her open mouth.