The Paladin (12 page)

"I think I found our mysterious Mr. Prichard. I wonder what his connection to this mess is."

"One way to find out is to read his journal," Brenda said.

"That is going to take a while. Must be six or seven hundred pages here."

"Then you had better get started," she said with a grin.

"First, I'm going to look through Silas's stuff. Maybe it will show why he killed all those people."

"What about what Sara said?"

"Aw, come on! The facts speak for themselves. All the bodies in his church? Shooting people to escape? If it looks like a duck, and sounds like a duck, Brenda…well, you know."

"He could have been framed. Sara seemed to think so."

"Of course she would think that. From what I have heard, her dad was a sorry son of a bitch."

"Must run in the family," said Brenda.

Zack gave her a sour look.

"Silas was good to her and showed her a bit of kindness that her own father wouldn't. It doesn’t make him innocent, not by a long shot. All it did was blind her to the truth."

"Bullshit!" Sara said, standing in the doorway.

"Face it, Sara; it's the truth."

"No, it's not! Silas was a good man."

"Thank heaven we don't have any more good men like Silas. There wouldn't be enough people left to bury the dead."

"But I told you about that night."

"It doesn't prove anything. Only that the creep tried to hide something incriminating."

"Zack, please," Brenda began.

"You don't know what I had to put up with, Brenda," he snapped. "I had all the perks of being related to the town bogyman. Once people heard the name Cole, they slammed the door in my face. Your own daddy kicked me out of your house, remember?"

"Poor Zack, are you tired of feeling sorry for yourself yet?" asked Sara. "I was there when it happened, remember? I was in the bedroom with my momma, holding your grandfather while a mob tried to break in. Daddy held them off with a shotgun until the law got here. We were afraid to go to the store, or school, or even outside. Bricks and rocks were tossed through the windows at night…one day I found my dog, Blackie, hanging from a tree!"

"I…I didn't know."

"You poor thing! They snubbed you and hurt your feelings. Back then, they wanted to kill us! That’s why, except for my family, the rest of the Coles moved to North Carolina."

"Why did your daddy stay?" asked Brenda.

"This is our home and we don't turn tail and run when times get hard; we weather the storm. It's a lesson that Zack never learned."

"I am…sorry," he said quietly.

"We don't have time for this," Sara said. "You can make it up to me later. The old place could use a coat of paint."

Zack smiled at her.

"Now, quit messing around. Let's find that damn jar and get Brenda's mother back," Sara said.

"Brenda, go home," said Zack. "It will take me most of the night to go through all this stuff. Besides, looking the way you do only distracts me."

"Boy, you have a one-track mind," said Sara.

"You are incorrigible," Brenda said. "But all right, you had better call me if you find anything."

"Promise."

***

"Zack, wake up!"

Zack smacked his lips and mumbled something incomprehensible before rolling over.

"I said get up!" Sara said as she shook him hard. "You've only got three hours till Will's memorial service. So get your ass out of bed!"

Zack sat up and looked at her blearily.

"Coffee, woman, and make it quick."

"It's so good to have you home dear. I really missed being your personal servant!"

"Women," he mumbled."You bless them with your presence and they still find a reason to complain."

Sara left the room and slammed the door behind her. Zack struggled to a sitting position.

Snatching his cell from the nightstand, he speed-dialed Brenda's number and jammed thee phone to his ear.

"Brenda? Zack."

"What did you find?" she asked. "I have been on pins and needles all night!"

"Well, I think I know where old Silas went after he left here," said Zack. He smiled as he heard Brenda squeal with joy.

"I found a letter written to Silas by a Clarence Goodman. In short, Goodman was dying of consumption—"

"Consumption?"

"I think that's what they use to call tuberculosis," he said. "Anyway, he was trying to repay Silas for all the help he had given his family. Apparently, Silas kept food on the table and paid for all his doctor visits."

"Doesn't sound like the action of a murdering monster," said Brenda. "Maybe Sara is right."

"Yeah, right. I guess that when he's not out stringing up girls in his church, old Silas has a soft spot for dirt-poor TB victims. As I was saying, Mr. Goodman gave Silas a plot of land for his trouble. The way he described it, it was the worst piece of ground in five counties, little more than a big slab of rock, but it was all the poor guy had. In his letter, Goodman said that while he was poor, he was still a proud man and pleaded with Silas to accept it."

"What has that got to do with the jar?"

"Along with the letter was a plot map of the land," he said. "Remember what Sara told us? Silas said he was going to the cave near the Jesus Rock. The Jesus Rock is labeled on the map."

"That's great!" she said. "Let's go get it!"

"Umm now, that's the problem, I never heard of this place. I checked the Internet, but not a single mention of the Jesus Rock."

Zack looked up as Sara came through the bedroom door with a steaming cup of coffee.

"Sara, you sure you don't know where the Jesus Rock is?"

"Like I said before, I don't have a clue," she said handing him the ceramic mug.

"Look at this map," he said taking a sip. "See if it looks familiar."

Sara peered at the map for a few minutes, then with a shake of her head, handed it back.

"Zack, I have lived here my whole life and I never heard of this place before, besides there isn't a road or place of reference marked, sorry."

"Looks like for now, the Jesus Rock is a dead end, Brenda, but I swear I won't let you down. I will figure it out."

"I know you will, Zack," she said. "I have faith in you. So, what about the journal?"

Zack yawned mightily and rubbed his unruly hair.

"Oh Lord, Brenda, let me tell you, that was a hoot! I couldn't put it down. Old Rufus Pritchard was either crazier than an outhouse rat or was one hell of a horror writer!"

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Get this; Rufus was hunting an honest to God supernatural monster!"

"Are you serious?"

"Serious as a heart attack," he said. "He was hunting a couple by the name LaBeck. Seems they had killed Rufus's wife, Emma, way back in 1887. The old boy hunted them for thirty-one years. The whole journal is nothing but run-ins he had with them."

"Were they both really monsters?"

"No, just the woman; I think her name was Celeste. The man, John LaBeck, was human. Seems that she was his fountain of youth. Get this, the woman wasn't human, but could appear as any woman she chose. Can you imagine the possibilities? Miss Universe one night, swimsuit model the next…"

"Zack, would you please focus?"

Zack laughed.

"Besides being a horndog's dream, Celeste could not be killed and believe you me, ol' Rufus tried. Says here he had shot her, set her on fire, used dynamite, and even ran over her with a train! Can you believe that?"

"That's the craziest thing I ever heard of," said Brenda.

"And if being an immortal babe who was harder to kill than a cockroach wasn't enough, Rufus said that Celeste had the power to wipe out humanity."

"How?"

"Didn't really say," said Zack. "He wrote that the only sure way of dealing with her was a thing he called a Collamarr. He described it as some kind of spiritual prison, but he didn't have a clue where it was."

"I guess they didn't have Wal-Mart in his day," said Brenda. "Probably find one in the monster hunting section, next to sporting goods. Anything else?"

"Yeah, said that when Celeste LaBeck killed Rufus's wife, that John had stolen the only thing of value Rufus had. Old Rufus was bound and determined to get it back."

"What was that?"

"Seems that Rufus had saved a high ranking officer's life from some Apaches and in return, he gave Rufus a solid gold pocket watch. Said it was real fancy and even engraved with his name. LaBeck flaunted the timepiece and wore the watch on his vest like a trophy. I think it was just to piss Rufus off. From what I read, it worked."

"So, did Rufus ever catch his monster?"

"The last entry was made from Fort Riley Kansas and it was dated March 3
, 1918. Rufus was setting a trap of some kind. Doesn't say how it worked out."

"Too bad, but what does any of this have to do with Silas?" she asked. "And why did Silas try to hide the journal?"

"You got me," he said. "All we have are a lot of questions and not many answers. Tell you what, Brenda. If we ever run into Silas, I'll be sure to ask him. Now what time do you want me to pick you up for the service?"

"You'll have to go without me," she said. "Daddy wants me to go to Knoxville. I have to pick up some people at the airport. I'll meet you there, so save me a seat."

"OK, no problem. Bye, Brenda."

"Bye."

14

Suzan Taylor unlocked the front door to the spanking new Christ Redeeming Apostolic First Church of Prophecy, when she heard the sound of someone clearing their throat behind her. Turning quickly, she encountered a tall young woman with long platinum blonde hair, sporting an orange and white t-shirt and jeans.

"Oh! I didn't see you there!" Suzan said dropping her purse. "You scared the life out of me!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you," said Maggie.

"I'm afraid the pastor won't be in until later this afternoon," Suzan said, assuming the woman was there for a handout.

Part of Suzan's job was to dissuade the almost endless line of, in the words of pastor Mills, 'deadbeats and bums who would suck dry the ministry's lifeblood: money.'

"Well then, maybe you can help me," Maggie said.

Suzan rolled her eyes and pushed through the door, "Come on in and I will get us some coffee. By the way, welcome to Christ Redeeming Apostolic First Church of Prophecy."

Maggie followed the plump woman inside and stood patiently as the Suzan plopped down her overstuffed bag onto the desk and checked the automatic coffee pot. After filling two Styrofoam cups, Suzan returned and handed one to Maggie.

"Now, how can I help you?"

"I've moved to this area from Maryville and have been looking for a church to call home. Yours almost seemed to beckon me."

Suzan gave her a broad smile, relieved that she did not have to hear a hard luck story this early in the morning.

"You certainly have come to the right place. The Lord has been doing some exciting things here at the Christ Redeeming Apostolic First Church of Prophecy. Pastor Mills is nothing short of a miracle from God."

"Really?" said Maggie. "Would it be too much to ask for the nickel tour?"

"I'll do you one better," said Suzan, "I'll give you the fifty cent'er!"

Both women laughed.

"I'm Stephanie Hobart, by the way, but everyone calls me Steph," lied Maggie.

"I'm Suzan Taylor, and while the pastor takes care of the spiritual side, I take care of everything else."

"Who are the people on the wall?" Maggie said, referring to a large family portrait that adorned a wall adjacent to the main entry.

"That is our dear pastor and his family," said Suzan.

Maggie stepped over and gave the portrait a closer look. Pastor Mills sat in a throne-like chair, surrounded by his attractive wife and three daughters.

"Nice looking family," Maggie said, but she was wondering how such a homely man could score such a beautiful wife.

It was then that Maggie saw the surveillance camera high up on the wall covering the hallway. Faking a smile, Maggie waved at the camera.

Suzan snickered at her antics, "Oh, save your energy, Steph, the place has cameras everywhere, but they won't be operational until next week."

"Oh, too bad," said Maggie, breathing a sigh of relief. "In such a sinful world, a watchful eye can be comforting."

"Tell me about it," said Suzan. "But we can take comfort that the Lord has His eye on us."

"Amen," said Maggie.

With Suzan in the lead, extolling the virtues of the almost too good to be true Pastor Mills, Maggie got a complete tour of the brand new facility.

They walked through the indoor basketball court and the elevated walking track, past the weight room and racquetball courts. One entire wing was devoted to the Christian school and daycare facility.

The school had yet to be opened, and clear plastic dust covers covered most of the tables and stacked chairs.

"This is a nice place, but where do you go to church?"

"Seek and ye shall find," Suzan said pushing through a large pair of swinging doors. "This is our sanctuary."

"Wow," said Maggie.

"It's really something, isn't it? Pastor Mills wanted something grand to worship the Lord."

"This place must hold at least five hundred people," said Maggie. "You must have a large congregation."

"Umm, unfortunately, no. We have ninety-seven members and about ten visitors that come to services. The pastor is anticipating large crowds though, once the building is dedicated."

"I see. It is a wise man who plans for the future."

"I think you will fit in nicely here, Steph."

The huge fan-shaped room sloped down toward a raised semi-circular, stepped platform. A simple wooden podium rose at the center surrounded by several thousands of dollars of musical instruments.

To the left of the pulpit stood an elegant Steinway, along with a rack of Fender guitars and basses. To the extreme rear was a complete set of Ludwig drums. Adjacent and to the right rear was the choir loft, complete with its own entrance.

Maggie scanned the room and saw an open window high up on the opposite wall of the sanctuary.