Secrets in the Shallows (Book 1: The Monastery Murders) (7 page)

One of the dogs noticed her, and began to growl and bark loudly. Sheriff Johnson sternly commanded the canine, “Hush now!” Even after the sheriff patted the dog on the head, it continued to bark up at the window.

Turning to see what was causing the dog to get so excited, the sheriff studied the monastery intently. When he gazed up toward to the window, he caught a glimpse of the ghostly image staring back at him through the glass. In an instant, the woman vanished before his eyes.
What in the world?
he thought. As the men approached him, he raised his hands, trying to get the team’s attention. “Everyone stand back. Don’t come any closer!” The search team stopped in their tracks, waiting anxiously for their instructions.

The sheriff turned back around and stared at the sight before him. The lifeless body of Timmy Fields floated face down on the water’s surface. Early light glistened and danced innocently off of the ice crystals in Timmy’s hair as his body drifted into some reeds near the water’s edge.

A vulture pecked at his exposed neck, while clutching to the boy’s jacket with his talons. Another vulture circled closely, squawking loudly as it inspected the intruders below. He flew down and landed on Timmy’s back and snapped at the other vulture. The first vulture snapped back and then flew away.

Sheriff Johnson turned back to Herbert, who was kneeling in the snow completely in shock as he caught a glimpse of his dead son in the water. Herbert kept mouthing words that never came out as he trembled in the cold. The mourning father began to gasp several times before finally releasing the deepest agonizing sound from his soul.

After allowing the man to grieve for a few moments, Deputy Williams approached Herbert and held out his hand. “Please take my hand, Mr. Fields.” His assistance was ignored by the grieving father.

Unwilling to get up, Herbert cried out to the heavens in disbelief, “Oh, my God! No! That can’t be my son! Oh, God! No!” Yelling out in anguish, he collapsed into the snow sobbing.

Williams tried to grab his hand again, but Herbert refused to stand up. Lying on the ground, Herbert’s wails filled the air. Everyone nearby stopped respectfully and allowed the grief-stricken father to mourn. Each of them could only stand and stare as the reality of the situation hit them head-on. Timmy would never go home again.

Suddenly, another vulture landed on Timmy’s back. The first vulture bounced a couple of times before flying away. The remaining scavenger stabbed his long beak into Timmy’s neck tearing away a piece of flesh.

“Get off of him!” In a final effort to protect his son’s body, Herbert stood up frantically waving his hands back and forth yelling, “Get off of him! Get off him! That’s my boy!”

The vulture ripped off one more large chunk of skin with its beak before flying away. Herbert stood like a statue in the snow covered bank with his eyes locked on his son’s body. Stunned by what he saw, tears slid down his cheeks as he watched in disbelief.

Sheriff Johnson’s eyes filled with sadness, as he thought of how he’d feel if he lost his own son. He blinked several times, trying to stop the flow of tears before they ran down his weathered face. Pushing his radio button, he spoke with resignation. “We found him.” Turning to Deputy Shamberg, he continued, “Shamberg, do you have your camera on you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Go ahead and take some photos before we disturb anything. I want to get him out as soon as we can; don’t want the body to deteriorate any more than it has. Those vultures have caused enough damage already.”

Deputy Shamberg nodded as he walked towards the sheriff and took out his camera. Lifting it up to his eyes, he began taking snapping several pictures of Timmy’s icy corpse. Finally, he said, “Sheriff, I think I’ve got enough photos of him in the water.”

“All right, Shamberg. Can you help me get him out of the water?”

“Yes, sir,” Deputy Shamberg replied.

Timmy’s body rotated around in the water so that Deputy Shamberg could see the extensive damage caused by the vultures. The deputy’s stomach churned inside as the horrific scene before him began to sink in. Placing a hand over his mouth, he swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure. Putting his camera in its case, he set it on a large rock nearby.

Attempting to gain some control back, Deputy Shamberg cautiously walked over and slowly waded into the icy cold water. Grabbing a hold of Timmy’s stiff arm, the deputy pulled him to the side of the pond and rolled him over. Sheriff Johnson waded out and grasped one of Timmy’s legs, assisting the deputy in pulling the corpse onto the snow-covered ground.

Drained of all life, Timmy’s stiff corpse was mostly pale white. Dark purple bruising was pronounced around his neck and in various places all over his body. Deep scratches covered his face and hands. His mouth gaped open as if frozen in a silent scream. Hungry fish had left nothing but vacant eye sockets to stare at the morning sunlight breaking the horizon.

From a distance, Herbert could see Timmy’s lifeless body in the sheriff’s arms. Raising his face toward the heavens, he yelled, “Dear God, why?!” Herbert’s chest heaved as he sank again sobbing, into the snow. Williams quickly moved to try to catch him, but the older man refused any help.

The sheriff and deputy gently laid Timmy’s body carefully onto a flat area away from the water. Sheriff Johnson glanced over towards Herbert as he thought about his own son, who was safe and warm at home. Ambulance sirens sliced through the silence, remotivating the men in their purpose. The sheriff broke away from his mental distraction and released hold of Timmy’s stiffened leg.

Herbert managed to stand to his feet. With wobbly knees, he trudged over to the concrete bench by the pathway to the pond. Sitting down and covering his face with his hands, he did his best to find a mental escape from the harsh reality surrounding him. An overwhelmimg numbness engulfed his innermost soul, and he felt as though this world was spinning out of control.

Overcome with emotion and complete exhaustion, Sheriff Johnson stood next to the body in respectful silence. As the cold air blew through his soaked uniform, he began to shiver uncontrollably. Rubbing his hands together, he unsuccessfully attempted to warm them up from the freezing cold.

Pushing his radio button, Sheriff Johnson instructed, “Williams, would you go to my car and get another set of dry clothes out of the trunk? Also, grab a couple of blankets for us. Over.” The sheriff glanced toward the driveway and saw several EMTs get out of an ambulance.

Herbert looked at the sheriff painfully. With his mouth slightly open, he shook his head back and forth, unable to utter a word. Closing his eyes, anguish and grief washed over him like a tidal wave.

Satisfied that the body was secure, Sheriff Johnson carefully walked back towards Herbert as he tried to console his friend. The sheriff placed his arm on Herbert’s back and patted it gently then said, “I’m so sorry, Herbert. As soon as I saw the birds over the pond, a sick feeling filled the pit of my stomach. I cannot begin to know how you feel, my friend.”

Deputy Shamberg picked up his camera again and returned to the body. Lifting the camera up, he began to take more pictures to document evidence. He carefully chose every angle he could in order to get all of the photos he needed. Gusts of wind violently blew snow near him as the ‘search and rescue’ helicopter landed on a snowy clearing at the top of the hill.

Deputy Williams returned with some dry clothes and blankets. Handing them to the sheriff, he said, “The ambulance is here, sir.” The deputy wrapped one of the blankets around Herbert’s shoulders, as he sat on the bench.

“Thank you, Deputy. Get Mr. Fields to a warm place while I go talk to the pilot.”

“Yes, sir.”

As he waited for the blades to slow down, Sheriff Johnson told Herbert, “We’ll get you somewhere warm in just a few minutes. I don’t want you to get sick.”

Herbert nodded in response as Sheriff Johnson turned to leave and ran towards the helicopter. Shielding his eyes from the blowing snow, the sheriff crouched down to avoid the blades. Finally, he got in and closed the door behind him to get out of the elements. He thought to himself,
Damn, I’m freezing. I will need to change at the monastery.

The pilot yelled over the engine. “This is unbelievable, sir! I thought all of this was over. Here we go again.”

Sheriff Johnson shivered as he nodded, acknowledging the pilot’s words. “It would seem so, Jason,” he said as he wrapped the blanket around himself tightly.

“Do you need me for anything else, sir?”

“No. As you can see, we found the body, so you can head back when you’re ready. I need to go get changed into dry clothes. I also need to take Mr. Fields to a warm place before his wife has to plan a double funeral.”

Jason replied, “All right, sir. What a horrible way to start our day, huh?”

Sheriff Johnson nodded his head in resignation. “I completely agree.”

On his radio, the sheriff heard one of the team leaders say, “Sheriff, do you copy?”

“Right here, Gerald.”

The gruff voice blared again over the radio, “Our team found a man’s shoe near the back side of the monastery building. It’s close to the back door. Is the victim missing a shoe?”

Sheriff Johnson responded, “Affirmative. I did notice he only had one shoe on. Mark the spot but don’t mess with the evidence. I’ll make sure to get forensics over there right away. Good work, Gerald. Thank you for the help.”

“Thank you, Sheriff. I have kids too, so I had to help. Too bad we didn’t find him in time. I’ll mark where the shoe is and let a deputies know where it is.”

Sheriff Johnson took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Copy that. Yes, it’s a sad day. Well, I need to get out of these wet clothes. Talk later.”

Gerald replied, “Understood, Sheriff. Don’t get sick.”

“I don’t plan to. No time for that. Too much to do.” Sheriff Johnson released the radio button then turned to the pilot. “Be safe.”

“You too, sir.” Jason said as the sheriff gathered his things and left.

C
HAPTER
6

Returning from the helicopter and still wrapped in the blanket, Sheriff Johnson approached Herbert, extending his hand to help the bereaved man rise. Herbert remained motionless under his own blanket, silently staring across the pond. With dull eyes, he slowly looked at the sheriff’s hand in front of him.

Filled with empathy, Sheriff Johnson spoke in a soft voice, “Come on, Herbert, let’s go inside the monastery and try to get warm. You need to pull yourself together before talking to your wife. I’m sure you know we all need to be strong for her.”

Herbert’s hand trembled as he pulled the blanket tightly around him. Grasping the sheriff’s hand with his own, Herbert successfully stood up.

Sheriff Johnson placed his arm around Herbert to hold him steady as they both shuffled their feet in the deep powdery snow. Exhausted and emotionally drained, Herbert could barely walk. With each step, his legs barely supported his weight. Until then, he had not realized how badly every muscle in his body ached from the search.

The sheriff looked at Deputy Williams and said, “Go ahead and put the dogs up. They’ve earned their rest and a nice treat.”

“Yes, sir,” Williams replied as he ordered the dogs to follow him towards the group of vehicles that had gathered in the monastery drive.

Still wrapped in the blankets, the pair of older men trudged through the snow towards the monastery. Sheriff Johnson clutched the bag of dry clothes in his hand, anxious to change from his freezing, wet uniform. As he and Herbert approached the first step, he cautioned, “Be careful now. Take your time, Herb. Hold onto the railing so you don’t slip.” Herbert’s hands trembled as he held himself up on the railing and conquered each step one-by-one.

Sheriff Johnson reached for the black cast iron door handle. “I’ll get the door.” Trying to pull it open, he said, “Locked.” Taking a deep breath, he loudly rapped on the large wooden door with the heavy knocker and yelled, “Hello?! Sheriff Johnson here.” Waiting impatiently, the sheriff continued to knock on the door repeatedly. “Please, someone!?” Herbert stood a few feet behind him, still hanging onto the railing.

Just as the sheriff was about to pound on the door again, the door opened enough for a small face to peek out. A young nun spoke in a high-pitched voice, “Hello, Sheriff Johnson. How can we be of assistance?”