Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) (16 page)

C
HAPTER
14

It was an unusually quiet morning at the Fields’ house. Margie could hear the clock on the fireplace mantel ticking as she sat back in her lounge chair. Her heart grieved for her son, as she cradled a recent photograph of Timmy against her chest. All she wanted was to wake up from this hellish nightmare. Her husband’s voice sliced the silence as he began to speak on his cell phone. She heard him speaking to their relatives one by one, and informing them of the tragedy that had taken place.

Psychologically, the events were taking its toll on Margie. Almost every hour, she stood up and made her way down the hall. Each step brought her closer to the vacant room, as she could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. With trembling hands, she turned the doorknob.

Opening Timmy’s bedroom door, Margie’s mind was flooded with memories. She saw her little boy playing with his train set looking up at his mother with a toothless grin. She could almost hear her son’s voice ask,
“Mommy, do you want to play?”
Margie stood silently as she looked around with tears welling up in her bloodshot eyes.

Under the window, Timmy’s bed set just as it had when he left for school that last day. Margie could remember how he would lay there on the New England comforter and imagine being the quarterback on the football team. Timmy would often gaze at the football poster on the wall nearby as he daydreamed.

Margie walked over to the chest of drawers in the corner. A small oak frame featuring a photo of Timmy and his dad caught her eye. She remembered taking the picture of them smiling while holding up their prize red lobsters on his boat.

Another photo of Timmy and his girlfriend, Lisa, almost brought her to tears. The young couple stood posing for their junior prom photo with their arms around each others’ waist. There he was smiling, and as happy as she had ever seen him. As she caressed the photo, she could hardly keep from letting the tears go. Squeezing her eyes tightly, she could still hear Lisa’s wails when she received the news of her boyfriend’s death.

Several college applications from the entire area still lay incomplete on Timmy’s computer desk, waiting to be finished. Blank signature lines stared back at her from the stark white paper.

Margie’s voice quivered, “You can go wherever you want.” Her hands trembled as she wrote her son’s name on the application. “Now, it’s complete, darling.”

Picking up her son’s tee-shirt from the back of his chair, Margie held it closer to her face. Timmy had worn it recently, and she still smelled his cologne. Snuggling it up against her face, she began to cry while holding it tightly to her aching chest. Margie laid down on his pillow, sobbing uncontrollably.

Still clutching his t-shirt tightly, she wasn’t ready to let go of him and say good-bye. Putting her hand up to her chest, she felt as if a sharp knife penetrated her heart leaving an empty hole. Her thoughts drifted back. She could see her son laugh aloud for the first time, as she slightly bounced him on her lap while singing
I love you more today… More today than yesterday. And I love you less today ... Less than I will tomorrow
. Margie felt completely lost, realizing that her son would never come home again.

A knock at the front door jolted Margie from her sorrowful trance back to reality. The moment was stained with the anguished tears that flowed down her cheeks.

Sitting in his usual spot on his recliner in the living room, Herbert quickly said good-bye to his cousin before he hung up the phone. Standing up, he made his way to the door to find out who was there.

“I’ll get it, Margie,” Herbert called out.

As he reached the door, Herbert peeked out the small window and saw the sheriff and his deputies on the front stoop. They were carrying laboratory cases by the handles. Herbert opened the door, and reached out to shake the sheriff’s hand.

“Morning, Sheriff Johnson and deputies. Come on inside. Can I fix you some coffee?” Herbert offered.

Sheriff Johnson grasped Herbert’s hand in a firm handshake, and then removed his hat. Lowering his head, he replied, “I appreciate the offer, but I can’t stay very long. I’ve got some news, Herbert. My deputies need to search Timmy’s room.”

Herbert’s eyebrows became one across his forehead as he squinted. “Search his room? What for, Sheriff?”

Sheriff Johnson pulled a search warrant out of his pocket and handed it over to Herbert. “We need to see if we can find any possible reasons for foul play. It’s standard procedure if it is suspected.”

Herbert furrowed his brow while scanning it over. “Foul play? So you do think someone killed our boy,” he said, shaking his head slowly.

“I need to talk to you more in just a moment, but I wanted my men to get a head start on sweeping Timmy’s bedroom. I’m sure you can appreciate that.”

“I understand. Whatever you need, just ask,” Herbert offered.

“Herb, would you please show my men where Timmy’s room is?”

“Of course,” Herbert said, pointing down the hallway. “Just please be careful not to break anything, all right? Everything means a lot to us; especially now.”

Sheriff Johnson glanced back at his deputies, “I don’t want you to miss anything. Be thorough, but make sure you put whatever you can back the way you found it. Okay?”

In unison, both deputies said, “Yes, sir.”

Recognizing Sheriff Johnson’s voice, Margie walked into the living room. She looked up at the sheriff and her husband then inquired, “What’s happening?”

Herbert wrapped his arms around her and said, “Sheriff Johnson wants his deputies to search our son’s room.”

Instantly, she pulled away. “Why? What for? Sheriff, have we done something wrong?” she asked, furrowing her brow.

“Nothing we know of,” he assured her. Stopping himself suddenly, he continued, “I’ll explain more in just a moment.” Turning towards his deputies, he instructed, “You can go ahead and get started now.”

Herbert led the men down the hallway and to the left. Margie followed closely behind them, almost in a daze. The door was wide open, revealing the room that had been barely touched since the Timmy’s death.

“Okay, let’s do this,” one of the deputies said to his partner.

Sheriff Johnson turned to Herbert and Margie then said, “You both need to remain outside of Timmy’s room until after we clear it from the investigation. It’s important that you do not go in there at all, not even to get a pen or pencil. You understand?”

Herbert and Margie looked at each other and nodded in affirmation.

“We won’t go in there, but tell me what’s going on, Sheriff?” Herbert asked.

As the couple and Sheriff Johnson remained in the hallway, the two deputies walked into Timmy’s room. They gently placed their cases on an empty table and opening them. Each took a pair of thick latex gloves and snapped the edges at their wrists as they put them on before starting.

One of the deputies glanced at Herbert through the doorway as he turned to look at the sheriff. “Sir, we’ve got it from here, thank you.”

The sheriff gestured for Herbert to lead the way back down the hallway and replied, “I think we should head to the living room. I need to talk to both of you.”

Herbert headed back down the hallway, with Margie and Sheriff Johnson following behind in awkward silence.

With his forefingers and thumbs, the sheriff nervously fiddled with the felt edges of his hat. After a few seconds of silence, he shook his head and then looked up at the both of them. “Why don’t we sit down?”

Margie sat close to her husband. Her heart raced; she was anxious to hear what the sheriff had to say. Herbert grasped her hands, cupping them inside his own.

“I got the coroner’s report this morning, Herbert and Margie. This was not an accident. It’s a homicide.”

Herbert gasped as his heart jumped inside his chest at the news. He stared at the sheriff for a long moment, still in disbelief at what he had heard. Folding his hands together, he firmly asked, “What did you say?”

Margie stared at the Sheriff in disbelief. Shaking her head, she said, “No! Who would want to harm our boy?” Shear anger raged inside of her. She raised her voice as her soul agonized, “No! No! No!”

“Timmy had a large gash on his head, along with some defensive wounds on his body. He also had rope burns on his neck where he was strangled. Timmy was in the water for at least several hours after he was killed, according to Dr. Grant’s report.”

Welling up in his eyes, tears finally ran down Herbert’s cheek in silent streams. His bottom lip quivered as he turned and looked at his wife, unable to speak. From the depths of his soul, every emotion screamed to be released, however words failed to capture the anguish he felt.

In contrast, Margie fell over onto Herbert’s lap crying; unable to contain her emotions any longer. “Oh, God! No! No! No! No!”

Sheriff Johnson sat respectfully waiting as Timmy’s parents absorbed the information just thrown at them. Holding his hat with his fingertips, he slowly walked his fingers around the brim. Taking a deep breath, he sat back up and gazed down the hallway towards the bedroom where his deputies worked.

After a few moments, Herbert gained his composure. Speaking just above a whisper, he asked, “What happens now? What do we do?”

Sheriff Johnson turned back towards Herbert and replied, “We’re going to try to find out who killed your son. That’s what we’re going to do. For now, take care of your wife. Later today, I’d like you to come by my office to talk about your son.”

He continued, “In the mean time, try to think about everything that happened the days and weeks before Timmy went missing. Write anything down you can remember and bring it with you, please. I’ll also need to get your fingerprints to compare with whatever we find in your son’s room. Can I count on you to be there at 2 o’clock this afternoon?”

“We’ll be there, Sheriff,” Herbert stated.

Sheriff Johnson rose to his feet and stretched out his hand as he replied, “Thank you. I know this is an extremely trying time for you both, but my first priority is to find your son’s killer.”

Standing up, Herbert shook the sheriff’s hand and said, “Thank you for coming out yourself. It means a lot that you’d do that for us. We’ll be at your office at 2 o’clock today.”

Sheriff Johnson nodded his head politely towards Margie and said, “My deepest sympathies for your loss.” Patting Herbert on the shoulder several times, he added, “I’ll keep you in my prayers.” He put his hat on and walked towards the front door. “Be careful on the roads. We still have seen some icy patches. See you soon.”

“We will,” Herbert said as he walked over and opened the front door for the sheriff. Margie walked over and stood by her husband in the doorway as the sheriff turned back around toward them. “When my deputies are finished, they will let you know. Once again, I am so sorry for your loss.”

Herbert nodded, blinking back his tears. In a slight whisper, he replied, “Thank you, Sheriff.”

Closing the door, Herbert gazed at his wife and wrapped his arm around her waist. Many thoughts skipped through his mind.
I need to be strong for Margie, but how do I do that?
Herbert embraced his wife tightly in his arms.

Margie held him in return, sobbing so loud that her words were hardly understandable, “Oh, Herb, what do we do?”

Taking a couple deep breaths, Herbert lifted his head and replied, “We’re going to do our part to help find out who did this to our Timmy. That monster deserves to burn in hell.”

* * * *

Sheriff Johnson drove down the familiar highway towards town as his cell phone rang. “Sheriff Johnson here.”

The dispatcher said, “I have Mother Superior from the monastery on the line. She’s frightened about some vandalism on the property. I know there is a lot happening at the monastery right now, so I wanted to give this call to you right away. Can you speak with her, sir?”

“Sure, put her through,” the sheriff rolled his eyes as he answered. “Sheriff Johnson.”

Mother Superior was almost in a panic as she blurted the words out. “Sheriff, someone vandalized one of the statues in our garden; the one of Mother Mary praying. It’s horrible!”

“What type of vandalism, Mother?”

Almost in tears, the elderly nun replied, “Someone put a decapitated deer head on the statue and poured blood all over it! I need someone here right away to check into this. Please, Sheriff, will you come?”