Read Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) Online
Authors: Karen Vance Hammond,Kimberly Brouillette
Tags: #2014 Paranormal Awards, #Kimberly Brouillette, #Karen Vance Hammond, #Award-winning, #mystery novel, #fictional novel, #Paranormal, #Fiction, #Paranormal Murder Mystery, #forensics, #Mysterium Publishing, #Award Winning, #Secrets in the Shallows, #serial killer, #Murder Mystery, #Suspense, #Suspense Thriller, #thriller, #The Monastery Murders Series
Despite all the questions hurled at them in rapid-fire succession, John and Katy kept methodically made their way through the large throng of reporters.
“Was it a murder, Mr. Smith?” a voice came from the back.
“What about you, miss? Can you tell us anything?” inquired a deep reporter’s voice.
Katy looked over at the man holding the microphone and answered, “No comment.”
“Are they doing an autopsy?” a female voice emerged from the crowd.
Yet, another woman’s voice resonated from the back, “Was the boy murdered?”
A voice rang out from the sideline, “When’s the funeral?”
John turned around and raised his hands. “No questions, please. I’m not at liberty to discuss any details at this time. I’m sure the sheriff will give you a statement after the autopsy report is completed.”
One woman carrying a notepad muscled her way to the front and followed them. “Or is this related to the Tom Green suicide? Or, is this just a coincidence?” she yelled out.
Everyone simmered down waiting for a response from John. He stopped dead in his tracks, turned around, and glared at her. “Everyone, please quiet down. The autopsy report has not been completed yet, so we do not know the cause of death for certain. Until we do, there is nothing to tell you. I do ask that you respect the family who lost their son.” John pointed at the hospital and said, “They are victims too, so please refrain from bombarding them with questions as you have been doing to us.”
John’s statement seemed to have no effect. The questions kept coming. John extended his arm out to make a way for Katy to walk towards the car. Katy could barely get by without knocking one of the reporters over. The reporters kept pursuing John in their questioning until John stood up and shouted, “Stay back!”
Slightly startled at his outburst, the crowd leaned back and stopped immediately. A hush blanketed the crowd as John unlocked the car and settled Katy inside. As he walked to the driver’s side, he nodded to the people and said, “Thank you. Please, be that respectful of the family.” John got into the car and swiftly drove away from the parking lot..
* * * *
As John drove down Route 17 towards Katy’s home, Katy reached over and turned on the radio to a smooth jazz station and said, “I could use something soothing to relax a little.”
“I know what you mean. It’s been a long day. I’m glad we picked up some Chinese food. I’m starving!” John exclaimed and then paused. Glancing at her briefly, he shifted his mood. “You know how much I love you, baby?”
Katy looked over and smiled at him. “I think I have a good idea.”
While grinning at Katy, John heard an announcement begin on the radio. “Hold on, please. Turn that up, Katy.”
Katy turned up the volume as they listened intently to the news break.
A female voice came over the radio. “
We interrupt this program to bring you a late breaking WTIX news report. Thank you, Ken ... I am Becky Howell, reporting live from the Wattsville Memorial Hospital. Yesterday morning around daybreak authorities discovered a body floating on the St. Francis Monastery pond. It is believed to be the body of eighteen-year-old Timothy Fields, who attended St. Francis Catholic School located at the monastery in Wattsville. His body is being autopsied to determine the cause of death. Nothing has been released so far.”
“Timothy’s parents recently filed a missing persons report when he didn’t return home from school just before the snowstorm last night. One of the last people to see Timothy before he went missing was Mother Superior Mary Ellen, principal of the school. Mother Superior stated she had no knowledge of the reason for the young man’s drowning and seemed very upset. This is what she had to say.”
Mother Superior’s voice began speaking.
“He was a bright man; I just can’t believe this happened to him. I will miss him very much. I pray for his family and friends. Anyone needing help in dealing with their grief from this tragedy, feel free to visit St. Francis for prayer or counseling.”
The news reporter continued,
“Standing with me is Sheriff Johnson of the Wattsville County Sheriff’s Department. Sheriff Johnson, you stated the autopsy is being done as we speak?”
“Yes, the report should be finished by late tomorrow morning. As soon as we know the cause of death, we will release a statement.’
“This has devastated the Fields’ family, friends, plus a number of students right here in Wattsville. Things that hurt those who live in our community, affect and touch all of us. If there is any indication of foul play, we will work day and night to find out exactly what happened,”
Sheriff Johnson’s voice continued.
“Sheriff Johnson, have you determined any foul play at this point?”
“At this time, I can’t say for sure, but we’re looking at all possibilities.”
“Thank you, Sheriff Johnson. We all know you have a lot of work ahead.”
“Yes, we do. Thank you.”
The reporter addressed the audience again.
“We were only able to get a brief comment from District Attorney John Smith.”
John’s voice came over the radio,
“I’m not at liberty to discuss any details at this time. I’m sure the sheriff will give you a statement after the autopsy report is completed.”
“Donations are being received on behalf of Timothy Fields’ family in light of the loss of their only child. Please contact St. Francis Monastery for more information if you are interested in donating to this cause. We will continue to follow this story as it develops. Remember to stay tuned to 1410 WTIX for up-to-the-minute news updates on this horrible tragedy. This is Becky Howell reporting live for 1410 WTIX from the Wattsville Memorial Hospital in Wattsville, Maine. Ken back to you.”
Julie turned the radio down as the reporter closed her segment.
John commented, “It seems we should know more tomorrow morning. I cleared my schedule for the rest of the day. I figured that this case may take a lot of my time over the upcoming weeks.”
Smiling, Katy said, “Well, at least we can still enjoy this afternoon and evening before you get started. Let’s cuddle on the couch and watch a movie. We may not have too much free time for a while, since it is a murder case.”
“Sounds like a plan,” John replied, continuing to drive towards Katy’s house as the early afternoon sunlight streamed through the window.
* * * *
Just as Sheriff Johnson was about to leave the office after the long day, the intercom blared out, “Sheriff, Dr. Grant is on the phone for you.”
“Thanks, Deputy Williams,” the sheriff replied as he picked up the receiver. Pushing the line button, he greeted, “Hello Dr. Grant. Any news for me?”
“Yes, I do, and it’s not good.”
“So what did you find out, Doc?”
Dr. Barry Grant cleared his throat and then replied, “We’re still conducting a few lab tests just to make sure about the cause of death, but it is definitely a homicide.”
“How so?” the sheriff asked.
“Seems there is definitely evidence of strangulation with a rope, as well as defensive wounds on different parts of his body. I just thought I’d let you know you what I have so far.”
Sheriff Johnson dropped his head and took in a deep breath as he closed his eyes. “Thank you, Dr. Grant. Will you be able to still have the final report to me by tomorrow?”
“Yes, Sheriff. I will try to have it first thing tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Dr. Grant. I’ll talk to you then,” the sheriff said as he hung up the phone and shook his head in disbelief at the information he had just received.
C
HAPTER
13
Casting beams of light from the heavens, the full moon’s amber image reflected on the monastery pond. Diamond crystals shimmered from the soft, fallen snow. As an owl hooted in the darkness of the forest, streams of red, green and pink danced off the lofty clouds from the north. The spectacular sight was a vision of beauty.
Emerging from the tree line, a darkly dressed figure looked around to see if anyone was nearby before it cautiously crept into the garden by the pond. Vapors expelled out into the freezing cold as the shadow carefully trudged along in the deep snow. Burdened by weight, the lone person clutched a heavy, dark trash bag in one hand and a plastic jug in the other.
Breathing heavily, the unknown assailant encroached upon the white marble figure of the Holy Mother Mary standing alone in the night. White snow clung to the black boots with every step taken toward the stone statue that silently recited her prayers.
Tiptoeing in the snow, the voice whispered, “Now, I get to show them what I really think of them and their hypocrisy.”
The dark figure finally reached the front of the Blessed Mary. Black gloved hands reached inside the plastic bag retrieving a severed head of the deer and held it up for her to see. The rotting flesh was already beginning to decay where something sharp had cleaved it from its body.
Chaotic thoughts flew through the vandal’s mind.
Maybe this will get their attention.
Smiling with disdain, the figure laid the head gently in the arms of the Blessed Mother. One could almost hear her screams as the bloody head dripped onto Mary’s porcelain robe. Unscrewing the plastic jug, the dark robed figure leaned in holding it against the statue’s lips.
“Want a sip?” Staring at the vacant eyes, the voice smirked, “I guess not.”
Lifting the jug, the vandal slowly poured the thick, red liquid over the top of her head. Streams of blood slowly cascaded down the white marble headpiece, saturating the snow with a crimson stain. After emptying the contents, the dark one stopped suddenly. The eerie feeling of being watched overcame the intruder.
In a pathetic whisper, the shadow asked, “Who’s there?”
Staring down from the monastery windows, a ghostly woman with long blonde hair watched the distasteful sight below her. Her eyes filled with anger as she recognized the one who was there.
Glancing up to the window, the trespasser caught a glimpse of the spirit just as she disappeared into nothing.
That couldn’t be her. She’s been dead for almost ten years. It’s just a trick of the moonlight.
Wasting no time, the vandal shook off any concern and carefully held onto the plastic bag and empty jug before scurrying back into the dark shadows of the forest.
P
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HEDDING THE
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