Saturday's Child (27 page)

“We should have some idea today. We’ve also arrested your stepmother.”

“How did she take it?”

“Not very well. But nothing we haven’t heard before at least once.”

“What about Drake? Was he arrested as well?”

“No, he wasn’t there. We’ve got an APB out on him. He won’t get far.”

“When can I go back to the farm?”

“Whenever you like. I’ve posted an undercover team of two officers posing as farm hands in case Drake goes back to the farm before the bonfire tomorrow night.”

“Is that still going ahead?”

“Yes. We discussed it last night at length. So long as the farmhouse and top field are out of bounds, things will continue as normal.”

“OK.”

“I’ll come and see you once the post mortems are done.”

“Thanks.” Aaron looked up as he hung up. Then he stood slowly, stretching. Perhaps sleeping here had been a good idea. His head was clearer than it had been in a long time and his body and spirit felt refreshed.

He knelt beside the bed.
Overrule in everything that’s happening today, Lord. Work it for Your glory. Keep us safe from any attack the evil one has planned for us. Be with the pastors and elders as they go into the house and rededicate it to You. Let it stay clean this time. Watch over Meggie. I need to talk to her. Help me to listen to what she has to say and to try to understand her reasons without getting angry or judgmental. Thank You for this new day, for loving me, for saving me. Let me live for You today.

Rising, he dressed and picked up the phone again. He headed downstairs, hearing someone in the kitchen.

Both Pastor Jack and Cassie sat at the table, coffee cups in hand.

“Would you like some coffee?”

“Thanks, Jack. That would be great.” He put down the phone and sat with them. “That was DS Holmes. They’re doing the post mortems this morning. They’ve arrested Tanis. Drake has vanished, so they’re looking for him. But then if he’s a crow they’ll never find him.”

“A crow? I’m sorry?”

“Nothing. It’s just my imagination working overtime.”

Aaron took the cup and sipped the coffee. The hot, bitter liquid slid down his throat, warming him. “There is this crow on the farm that looks just like Drake, even has feathers that lie the same way Drake does his hair. He and the crow are never around at the same time. The crow vanishes and Drake is there in its place. Almost instantly.”

“You do realize that it’s not really him, don’t you?”

He smiled wryly. “Yeah. I keep telling myself this is real life and not a horror novel or a TV show. However much it seems like it at times. It’s just too weird for words. I might head back after this, if that’s all right. Check the cows were milked and be there for when the police arrive. I also need to make sure the fire pit was finished, ready for the bonfire build this afternoon.”

“You should eat first.” Cassie slid the toast rack across to him.

“You sound like Meggie.”

Cassie smiled. “It’s a female thing. We have to make sure the male of the species eat, else they can’t protect us.”

He chuckled. “Self-interest then.”

“Of course.”

“Speaking of Meggie.” Pastor Jack slid the butter across the table to him. “Talk to her. I heard enough yesterday to know there is something going on between you both. I don’t need to know what, but if you need a third party around when you do talk, let me know.”

“OK. I’ll bear that in mind. Thanks.” He buttered his toast. “I have a lot to do.”

“One handed?”

“It’s amazing what a one armed bandit can do.”

“That sounds like a Lara phrase.”

He laughed. “Yeah, it is.”

“We’ll be over about ten. That way we should be finished before the guys arrive to build the bonfire.”

Aaron studied his friend over the top of the toast. “Are you sure you still want the bonfire there tomorrow, Jack?”

“Yes. We’re not going to let the devil win this one, my friend.”

“OK. I wasn’t planning on going in the house until you got there, but if the police are investigating everywhere, they may need me inside at some point. I assume you want me there when you pray in the house?”

Pastor Jack nodded. “Same as before, yes.”

He nodded. “OK.”

“Just remember the Son has already won the war, we just need to claim the victory.”

“You make it sound easy. Meggie said something about wearing the full armor of God…there was that song in church last week about it.”

Pastor Jack smiled. “Ephesians six verse thirteen.
Put on the full armor of God so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.”

“Stand? Standing doesn’t sound very victorious or impressive come to that.”

“Oh, but it is. After a battle, Aaron, how do you know who the victors are? The dead and defeated are lying on the ground and the victors are…”

Aaron looked at him. “Standing,” he whispered.

****

By the time Aaron got back to the farm, the yard was filled with police cars and a large white forensics van. Uniformed and white-suited officers crossed back and forth and in and out of the house. Another van was making its way up to the top field, presumably with one of the farm hands to guide them. So much for having ploughed and seeded up there earlier in the week. A whole crop wasted, but being honest, he shouldn’t have planted in the first place.

Would it have the yellow tape all over it, like they showed on the news? Would this be on the news? How would an active murder investigation affect the church bonfire?

He parked in his usual spot and got out of the car. A large crow landed on the roof, looking at him. “You can’t hide forever,” he told it. “They might not know who you are, but I do.”

An officer came over to him. “Mr. Field?”

He glanced up. “Yes.”

“PC Thomas. Sgt. Holmes asked me to bring the files in, but we can’t find them.”

“They’re in the parlor, the front room.”

“It’s locked. Do you have the key?”

“Yes. I’ll let you in.” He crossed the farmyard, and taking a deep breath, he crossed the doorstep. The oppression hit him like a peasouper fog. He could barely breathe and had to force himself to take every step. The police didn’t seem to be finding it so hard. At least most of them didn’t. There was one officer Aaron noticed, who seemed to struggle as much as he did, before the man finally backed out of the house.

Unfortunately, Aaron didn’t have that option. Instead, he mentally recited Psalm twenty-three as he pulled his keys from his pocket and found the one for the parlor door. “Here you go.”

The room smelt, and he moved to the window, flung it wide open. The crow perched on the sill, staring unblinkingly at him. Its mouth opened, the harsh caw echoing in the thick, stagnant air. Then he unlocked the filing cabinet. “If you need anything I’ll be outside.”

He headed quickly to the door.

“There’s nothing here. It’s empty.”

He turned. “It can’t be.”

The crow cawed again. If he didn’t know better, Aaron would say it was laughing at him.

“Is there anywhere else it’d be?”

“I have no idea. In her office perhaps, or somewhere in TFS Holdings. I need to get on, I’m sorry.”

He was almost to the front door, when a forensics officer stopped him.

“Do you have the key to the attic? We need to know where you found your wife.”

His heart heavy, Aaron sighed and trudged back the way he’d come. The fog grew heavier, more oppressive as he reached the attic door. He unlocked it. The door creaked as it moved. No one had been up here since they’d taken down her body.

His steps echoed on the wooden stairs as he climbed. He held his breath, remembering...

Still on a high from the pantomime and the way Nancy had loved it, he wasn’t worried about her not being in the kitchen. She was probably in the room she wanted to use as a nursery or tweaking the ornaments on the tree. But she wasn’t. Instead the door leading to the attic stairs was open, the light shining down them.

“Nancy, are you up here, love?” he called.

No answer came.

He climbed the stairs. What was that squeaking sound? Surely, they didn’t have mice or rats up here? “Nancy? What time is the pie due out of the oven? I don’t want it to burn.”

Something moved in the corner of his vision. He turned, his mind not believing what he was seeing. “Nooooo, Nancy….”

He ran to her, cut her down, but it was too late. Her pale skin was blue, her eyes wide and staring…

He stood rooted to the spot. The chair still lay on its side, thick dust coating it now. The rope suspended from the ceiling above where he’d cut it. Tears burned his eyes, every ounce of grief he’d felt three years ago, filling him again. His heart broke, his stomach turned and he was lost in the tempest of sorrow.

He could see himself kneeling by the chair, holding her, begging her to come back.

But she hadn’t. His life had ended at that point. He’d thrown away everything except the farm. His faith was never like hers, if anything, he’d gone to church for her, read the Bible with her, prayed with her, because she wanted it. Without her, he was nothing and there was no point. He remembered sitting in the kitchen the day of the funeral. Bottle of vodka in one hand, bottle of sleeping pills in the other. But something had stopped him.

Was it You, Lord? Did You keep me alive for this moment? So I could be the catalyst to stopping the evil in this place? I miss her so much. And I let Meggie take a place in my heart and now I’ve lost her too due to my own stupidity. I signed those papers. I gained the farm and lost Meggie. I know I don’t deserve it, but if there is a way that I can put things right, please show me how, because I’m lost here.

Aaron looked at the detective and took a step to the door. “Can I go and get on?”

“Sure. We’ll find you if we need anything.”

He left the attic quickly, almost running down the stairs to the landing. Then he headed back down to the farm yard, taking a deep breath of fresh air as soon as he reached it. The chill of the November day was a welcome relief. Four cars pulled up in a long line. He crossed over to them.

Nate wound down the window. “Where’s the best place to park?”

“Over in the field there. We’re using it for parking tomorrow night.”

“OK.” He waved in that direction to the cars behind him and then drove where Aaron indicated.

Meggie followed them and again guilt twisted his gut. This was all down to him. The sooner he spoke to her and they talked and prayed about it, the better.

Seven men crossed over to him. Nate, both pastors and several elders. Aaron nodded. “Morning.”

Pastor Jack smiled. “How’s it going?”

“Busy. Everywhere I go I seem to fall over yet another police officer.”

“And I bring one more with me.” Pastor Jack winked. “How are you doing?”

“Not great. Too many memories being dredged up.” He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “And the house is really bad. It’s like walking in lime or quicksand. You could almost cut the oppressiveness with a knife.”

“Then let’s get to it. Nate, can you pull everyone out of the house for a bit. Have them seal off the farm to prevent anyone coming onto the land.”

Nate nodded. “Sure.”

Aaron stood there. “I hadn’t been in the attic since Nancy died. Wish I hadn’t gone up there at all. Maybe…maybe what I need is a fresh start somewhere else.”

Meggie walked past him, her arms full of cups and plates. Her perfume filled his senses the way a river tumbles over the rocks and becomes a waterfall. “Meggie?”

She turned to face him, her eyes hollow and red rimmed. “Good morning.”

“Can we talk later, please?”

“Nothing really left to say,” she said, her voice hoarse and broken.

Guilt twisted a spear through his heart. He moved closer to her, aware of the others trying not to watch. “Please, I need to apologize.”

“You accused me of murder, then you gave Gareth that file Tanis had on me. He gave it to the police. DS Holmes turned up last night. And now everyone knows.”

“I’m sorry.” His face flamed and it was all he could do to stand there. He felt three inches tall. “I had no right to say that, not without knowing all the facts. And it’s none of my business.”

“No, it isn’t,” she whispered.

“I’m sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me or want anything more to do with me, but…”

“I forgive you,” she said quietly. “I need to go and put these away.”

“Can we talk later?”

“If I have time.”

“Please…over coffee or whilst stacking something. I promise no more accusations.”

Hesitation filled her eyes before she nodded. “Fine. Coffee, later on.”

“Thank you.” He touched her hand briefly.

Nate came back across, and Meggie hurried away, not meeting his gaze. Nate followed her, gently catching her arm. Aaron watched as they exchanged a few words, then Meggie leaned into Nate as he hugged her. Aaron wished he was holding her. Even though she’d said the words, he didn’t feel forgiven.

Maybe he never would.

They walked to the farmhouse, Nate joining them. Aaron longed to ask what he’d said to Meggie, but it had nothing to do with him. He’d interfered enough in her past. If they were to have any kind of a future, he had to go at her pace, and let the past stay in the past.

Aaron paused at the door.

The evil was almost palpable, creating a thick barrier between the outside world and the house.

He reached out, touching the door. “Agh.” He jerked his hand back, white hot pain spiking up through his arm. The skin was bright red and blistering already.

He closed his eyes.
Jesus is Lord. The battle is ours for the claiming. Go before us, Lord, and claim each step we take, each room we enter. We do this in Your name and for Your glory.

He put his hand on the smog again, for there was no other word to describe it, and pushed his way through into the kitchen. Red eyes glowed from the mirror. Glancing back, he noticed all the others were just as affected.

“Get out!”
The voices screamed.
“The house is ours.”