Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) (48 page)

John sat up in his lounge chair, “Of course, I can. What did you find on the tape so far?”

“I don’t want to go into it right now over the phone. I want you to listen to it for yourself.”

John exclaimed, “I can’t wait!”

“I’ll be waiting in my office after the funeral. See you at the cemetery.”

“All right. Sounds good, Sheriff. See you then,” John said before he hung up his phone.

C
HAPTER
43

With the autopsy complete, the murder investigation was in full swing. Hours of searching for the truth had already taken place, yet questions and rumors still spread like wildfire around the usually quiet community. Everyone was baffled by Mother Superior’s motives.
How could such a well-respected servant of the church commit such heinous acts?
The dark hours had run into dreary days, and the toll of death was felt by the entire town like a heavy blanket as they prepared to bury one of their own.

At the St. Francis Cemetery, dozens of mourners, including nuns and priests from other diocese stood near the gravesite as the lightly falling snow rested on the dark green canopy and umbrellas. Aged tombstones of various sizes surrounded the group like small soldiers on the snow-covered hill. Many of the stone markers dated back to the seventeenth century, when English settlers move to the region.

A large golden frame with Timothy Fields’s senior picture set on an brass easel near under the canopy. Two rows of chairs for the family were decorated with royal blue slip covers, and faced the gravesite. An outdoor green carpet covered the ground where the grief stricken family of Timmy Fields sat.

A group of Timmy’s friends from St. Francis Catholic School huddled together under their umbrellas nearby. Some were crying as they consoled each other for the loss of their friend. Several classmates had made a large collage with school photographs of Timmy and his many friends. Holding a picture of Timmy dressed in his lacrosse uniform, a young man stood silently with tears streaming down his face.

One by one, friends and loved ones covered the lid of the black casket with an array of yellow and white roses, mixed with small plastic football player figurines. The coffin lay on a brass frame, ready to be lowered into the grave that would house Timmy’s remains forever. Father John Smith swung smoky incense over Timmy’s coffin, praying to Heaven for his soul.

Sitting on the front row, Herbert and Margie were approached by a few relatives, who had driven from as far away as Ellsworth, Vermont and Boston, Massachusetts. Days of crying had worn the mourning couple down. The stinging of the Green’s eyes was almost unbearable.

A void had taken up residence in their hearts where they felt like a part of them had died. The coming years of watching him become a man had been stripped away forever. Denial and numbness had become their companions. Unable to deal with their loss, a hate for people raged inside of them, closely followed by anger, distrust and resentment.

* * * *

Leaning against an old oak tree, John Smith studied each mourner as they arrived at the cemetery. Turning around, he spotted Peter standing at the edge of the crowd in a black suit, and wearing dark sunglasses. The two men nodded to acknowledge each other, and Peter gestured that he needed to discuss something.

“Be right back,” he whispered to Katy, who was standing beside him.

John walked behind the crowd, trying not to disturb anyone. When he reached Peter, he asked, “Did you get Tom Green’s body to the lab?”

“Yeah, it was delivered late this morning,” Peter whispered as he tried to steal a glimpse of Katy out of the corner of his eye.

“Any idea when you’ll know some answers?” Looking around, John kept watch to make sure when the funeral would begin.

Peter leaned over and whispered, “Coke is working on the autopsy now. It should only be a mattter of hours before we know something.”

John nodded and whispered, “Great news. Hopefully, he’ll find something that will help the case.” Glancing over, John noticed that Tom and Helen Green walked over and stood near the family chairs.

“Interesting. Tom’s parents are here. It’s touching to see them show their support for the Fields’ family. Tom and Timmy were best friends.”

“Probably so. Any news about the case?” Peter whispered.

John glanced at his watch. “Actually, after the funeral, I’m supposed to head over to the sheriff’s office. He has some newly discovered counseling tapes to listen to. They are from sessions Mother Superior had with Tom Green; similar to the ones we found on Timmy Fields.”

A woman wearing a black dress and a Betmar Margot hat, turned around and put her finger up to her lips. With a contorted face, she scolded the men with her eyes as she shushed them.

“Sorry,” John whispered back to her.

The priest began reciting
The Lord’s Prayer
. John made the sign of the cross over his chest and recited along with the others. “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come; thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not in to temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the kingdom and the power and glory forever. Amen.”

At the end of the prayer, Margie leaned over, nearly falling onto Herbert’s shoulder. Her body shook with every sob she made. The funeral director, who had been standing off to the side, hurried over to help her.

Seeing Margie’s overwhelming grief, Julie and George walked around to her and her husband. Wrapping their arms around the grieving couple, Katy’s parents did their best to comfort them. Julie tenderly rubbed Margie’s back, as she handed her a tissue from her purse.

Nothing could be said to the parents that would make everything all right. They would have to face their grief directly, in order to get through what they would have to overcome. Seeing concern on the funeral director’s face, Julie mouthed that she would take care of Margie.

As the service ended, Margie once again began to sob uncontrollably. Leaning in her husband’s chest, she grasped the lapel of his coat as she cried, “Why? Why did this happen to our baby?”

Herbert took hold of her by the shoulders, “Margie, you’re gonna have to get a hold of yourself.”

With blood shot eyes, she looked at him, “Herb, I just want to know why? What could Timmy possibly do to deserve that? How can someone be so cruel to murder our son?”

Katy embraced her and said, “I’m so sorry for the loss of your son. They’re doing everything they can to get to the bottom of this.”

Margie sternly replied, “And when they find out who did this, I want them to pay.”

“I know they will. My fiancé is going to make sure of that. He’s the district attorney,” Katy assured her, before letting go of Margie’s neck and walking away.

One by one, the mourners wrapped their arms around Margie and Herbert, trying to give them their condolences.

Katy commented to John, “Strange with Mother Superior Mary Ellen not being here, isn’t it?”

“Well, it’s kind of hard to be here at the moment, with the bars surrounding her,” replied Peter.

“And hopefully, for the rest of her life,” John replied, smiling.

Seeing John from the opposite side of the crowd, Sheriff Johnson made his way toward them. Looking at John, he asked, “You ready?”

“I’ll be there shortly. I’m going to drop Katy off at the office. She needs to finish up some work for Mother Superior’s arraignment on Monday,” John assured him.

The sheriff said to Peter, “You can join us too, if you would like?”

Sheriff Johnson let out a deep sigh. As he pulled up his sleeve to look at his watch, he whispered,
“So, I’ll see everyone at 3 p.m.?”

“I’d be happy to, as long as Coke doesn’t need me to help him at the lab. I’ll check right now,” Peter said as he walked away from them and got out his phone to call the lab.

At the conclusion of the service, those in attendance began to disperse. Several minutes passed before Peter walked back towards them and informed them,
“Coke is still working on the tests, so I’ll come by and listen to those sessions.”

The sheriff nodded at Peter, as he waved and headed to his cruiser. Walking towards his own car, Peter waved to John and Katy before leaving.

Still near the grave, Margie Fields held a fresh yellow rose in her hand. Tears gushed out of her eyes as she placed it on top of the casket. “Bye bye, my precious boy. Mommy loves you so much.” Staring at the rose, she backed up, sobbing.

Herbert placed his rose on top of the casket. It slipped down inside the concrete vault. With a trembling chin, he lowered his head and quietly cried. He gently stroked the outside of the casket with his fingers.

Burial attendants drove up on the side of the road and jumped out of the back of the truck with shovels. As they walked toward the casket, they noticed Herbert and Margie still under the canopy. The funeral director quietly instructed the workers.

Herbert and Margie turned around and saw the men. Once again, Margie began to sob, nearly falling in a chair; completely devastated by the loss of their son.

“Don’t cover him up. He won’t be able to breathe,” she pleaded.

The men stopped in their tracks, staring at the couple. They paused a moment, before returning to their truck to wait.

Herbert took hold of Margie. She turned towards the casket, aching in the pit of her soul.

With a slight tug, Herbert urged, “C’mon, Darling. C’mon.”

As he approached the limousine, the funeral director opened up the passenger side door allowing Herbert and Margie to get in and sit privately. They stared out at John as the director shut the door and got in the front to drive them away.

P
ART
5:

S
ECRET
C
ONFESSIONS