Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) (4 page)

* * * *

After another few minutes of waiting, Herbert’s patience had finally faltered. Putting a cap on his head, he quickly buttoned his thick, brown corduroy coat, and headed to the front door. Carefully walking out onto the icy stoop, he braced himself against the fiercely blowing storm and stepped out on the lawn. Immediately, his feet sunk into the freshly fallen snow, which already measured up to his ankles.

Looking up at a tree that stood in front of his house, the tightness in his chest constricted even more. The massive oak tree swayed as if it was a mammoth-sized ragdoll in the howling winds. A cracking sound boomed through the gales. Suddenly, a large branch fell from the tree and missed him by inches. He shivered as snow from the falling branch fell down the neck of his coat. Shielding his face from the blinding blizzard, he leaned into the wind and headed towards the end of the driveway.

The ‘white out’ surrounded Herbert as he tried to formulate a plan to find his son. Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, although he knew it didn’t make sense. Through the thick streaks of flakes that pounded all around him, faint high beams from an SUV were coming slowly towards him.

Herbert walked out onto the paved road, now completely covered with inches of snow. Waving his hands high in the air, he desperately tried to grab the driver’s attention without being run over.

The black SUV came to a stop and the window rolled down. Herbert instantly recognized the driver as his longtime friend and fellow lobster man, Jim Oats. Herbert leaned in and said, “Hey, Jim, I didn’t recognize your new car. Listen, I have an emergency.”

“I was just on my way home. How can I help?” Jim said, alarmed by the look on his friend’s face.

“Timmy hasn’t come home from school, and Margie and I are getting worried. I know you pass by there on your way home. Did see him walking this way?”

“No, I didn’t, but I’ll certainly keep an eye out for him, Herbert. Did you call the school?”

“Yes.”

Removing his cigar from between his sun-spotted lips, Jim scratched his salt and pepper beard. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t waste any time standing here, Herbert. The National Weather Station predicts this will go on all freakin’ night. They said up to three inches an hour will be falling in the height of the storm compared only one inch per hour now.”

“Yes, you’re right. I need to call the sheriff. I hope he is still in his office.” Herbert said as he hiked his collar up against the driving snow and wind.

“Herb, after I get this load of groceries home to the wife, I’ll help look if you still haven’t found him. I’ll call you in a few to make sure if he gotten home yet.”

“Sure thing. And if you see him …”

“You bet, I’ll call you and bring him home if I see him. Now, go make your calls. I’ll talk to you shortly.” Jim rolled the window up and proceeded slowly down the road until his tail lights were completely obscured by the falling snow.

Herbert shook off the snow as he entered the warm glow of the cozy place he had called home for almost eighteen years. After removing his coat and hat, he placed his winter wear on the coat tree and headed towards the coffee pot.

Margie was on her phone talking to the neighbors. She quickly said her good-byes and hung up the receiver and asked, “Who was that?”

“Jim Oats ... He drives by St. Francis on his way home every day. I asked him if he had seen Timmy. He hadn’t, but said that he will keep a watch out for him. If we don’t find him soon, he’ll come help us look for him.”

Furrowing his brow, Herbert became even more determined. Cracks were beginning to show in his armor of stoic bravery as he said, “This has gone on long enough. I’m calling Sheriff Johnson right now.”

Hearing the word ‘sheriff’ frightened Margie beyond words. Suddenly panic stricken, she covered her mouth as tears streamed from her eyes.

C
HAPTER
3

Sitting back in his leather chair with his feet resting on the edge of his desk, Sheriff Johnson took a bite of his BLT. He was engrossed in the newest big storm developments being televised on the widescreen television in the corner of his office. The weatherman was adamant that everyone should go home and wait out the blizzard conditions, which were supposed to continue well into the night.

The receptionist’s voice blurted over the intercom, “Sheriff, there’s a call for you on line one. Whoever it is sounds pretty shook up.”

He wiped dripping mayonnaise from his chin with the back of his hand and replied, “Offay, ffank you.” Picking up the phone, he answered with a mouthful of sandwich, “FFeriffff Johnffon.”

“Sheriff, this is Herbert Fields.” Herbert did his best to speak calmly.

“Herff? Everything all right?” Sheriff Johnson asked as he hurriedly choked down his food. “I am watching the developments of the storm on the TV. I can’t believe we’re getting one so early this year. Global warming, my foot!”

The sheriff used his pinky nail to pick at some bacon stuck between his teeth then he sucked it through. Finally, he covered the receiver as he let out a small belch of satisfaction.

“Sheriff, I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t important, but Timmy hasn’t come home from school. I’m trying not to worry too much, but with this storm ...”

In an instant, Sheriff Johnson removed his feet from his desk and sat up. “Okay, when was he supposed to come home?”

“He called this afternoon and told Margie that he had to stay late.” Herbert wiped his brow on his sleeve. “Since he was supposed to leave around 4:30 at the latest, we’re really getting nervous.”

“Have you called some of his friends? Could he be at his girlfriend’s house?”

“We have called everyone we can think of that may know where he is. His girlfriend, Lisa, hasn’t seen him since they were at school.”

Sheriff Johnson glanced at his watch, showing it was 6:30 p.m. “Well, we don’t want to jump to conclusions that something has happened to him. He may have stopped somewhere on his way home.” The sheriff rose from his chair, and looked out the closest window. “However, with this storm, I agree, I really don’t want to take any chances.” Twisting the rod, he opened the blinds, and watched the falling snow. “I’ll come out there right away.”

“Well, I appreciate it, Sheriff. We’ll be waiting for you.”

“Okay, see you in a bit.”

Sheriff Johnson sat back down, propped his feet back on his desk, and finished eating his sandwich. Deputy Williams knocked on the half-cracked door and leaned in through the doorway. The sheriff waved him into his office as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

The deputy walked in and asked, “Anything going on, Sheriff? Someone stuck on the side of the road maybe?”

Sheriff Johnson rolled his eyes. “Oh, no. Herbert and Margie Fields are frantic again because their baby boy isn’t home yet; and he happens to be eighteen, I might add. Remember the last time? We spent three hours searching for him, just to find him asleep at Lisa’s house.” Smirking, he said, “Timmy probably went over to a friend’s house, and just forgot to call home. I know that some of the residents in the area have lost power, plus several telephone lines are down.” The sheriff took another bite of his BLT.

The deputy smiled at him. “Man, these parents wig out over anything.”

The sheriff leaned back rocking in his brown leather chair and wiped his mouth as he chewed. His words slurred as he chewed, “Wellf, we allf wantf fo knowf wheref four kidsf aref, esfpecfiallfy whenf fthere’s fweather likef fthisf.”

Barely able to keep the food in his mouth, he finally swallowed it. Picking up his diet cola can, he took a long drink and then belched grotesquely. The sheriff looked over at his deputy and smiled.

The deputy laughed. “Sir, where are your manners?”

Laughing, he replied, “I left them at home with the missus.” The sheriff sat forward and glanced around habitually as if expecting his wife to jump out from the shadows and scold him for his lack of manners.

The sheriff smiled as he sat back again. “Back in my day, before the late show every night, a message came over the television. ‘Do you know where your children are?’”

“Yeah, I remember that vaguely.”

“Well, that was probably before your time, Williams.”

Sheriff Johnson stood to his feet, pulling his pants up over his bulging waistline. “Well, I better not ignore this. I need to get out there before the roads are so covered with snow that I can’t get through.” He placed his hat on top of his gray head. “Well, I’m off.”

“Want me to come with you, Sheriff?”

“No, I’ll be back in a little while. This shouldn’t take too long,” the sheriff said, grabbing his winter coat as he headed out the doorway.

* * * *

Sheriff Johnson kicked the snow off his boots as he stepped onto the Fields’ front porch. Before the sheriff could knock, Herbert opened the door.

“Come in, Sheriff,” Herbert greeted him, trying to hide his fears.

Politely removing his hat as he entered the foyer, the sheriff said, “Hello, Herbert. Sorry, I was in the middle something important when you called, but I got here as quickly as I could.”

“Thank you so much, Sheriff.”

“So, is Timmy still not home?”

Margie walked into the living room holding the cordless phone. She looked like a complete wreck. “Sheriff, we’re so glad you’re here. We have been worried sick.”

Attempting to appear calm, Herbert smiled at her softly. “He should’ve been home hours ago.”

Sheriff Johnson took his pen and notepad out of his shirt pocket. “Did he say what time he would be home?”

“No. Only that he had to stay late and would be home right after he was done.”

“Earlier on the phone, you said that you had called the school already, correct?”

“Yes, I called.” Margie said as she grasped the phone receiver tightly in her hands.

Bewildered, Sheriff Johnson scratched his weathered forehead. “What did they say?”

“Mother Superior Mary Ellen believed he wasn’t there. She told me that she spoke with him just as he was leaving, however, the phone went dead in the middle of the call.”

“Hmmm … Some of the phone lines have gone down, so that may explain it.” After pausing to reorganize his thoughts, he asked, “Okay, so what was he wearing, Margie?” Sheriff clicked his pen and began to write on his pad.

“His uniform … white shirt, red jacket, slacks, black shoes and belt. He also had his heavy, black wool coat and his backpack,” Margie said as she blew her nose with a tissue.

Sheriff Johnson placed his pen and note pad back in his shirt pocket. “We don’t want to panic, okay? That won’t help anyone.” Shrugging his shoulders, he said, “Sometimes people will run off to someone’s house, or the library and just not be able to call home. He may even be taking shelter from the storm and might not be able to call. Nevertheless, there’s something you need to remember. I know he’s your child, but remember he’s an eighteen-year-old young man. Nevertheless, with the storm, I do understand your concern and we’ll do what we can.”

“Yes, but that’s not like, Timmy; teen or not. He always calls if he is going somewhere. Otherwise, he comes right home, Sheriff,” replied Herbert.

“Did he have his cell phone with him, Margie?”

“No, he left it here.”

“Okay, this is what I want you to do. We really can’t report this as a missing person just yet. We usually need to wait twenty-four hours before we can do that, but with the weather, I don’t want to take any chances.”

“Twenty-four hours? Sheriff, he could be buried in snow by then!” Margie exclaimed.

Raising his hands, he said, “Calm down, Margie. With the storm like the one we have right now, it’d be suicide to try to go out and search for him in the woods in the dark, but I will have the patrols keep an eye out. I’m sure he’ll show up.”

Sheriff glanced at Herbert. “I’m going to make a few phone calls and do some driving around between the school and here to see if I can track him down myself. I’ll call it in right away so the patrols will be aware of the situation. Wait here, and stay close to the phone. I’ll let you know what I find out as soon as possible, all right? If Timmy calls or comes home, call me right away. But, let’s not push the panic button just yet. If he doesn’t turn up by the morning, then we’ll begin a full search for him at first light.”