Those of the Margin: a Paranormal Suspense Thriller (Derek Cole Suspense Thriller Book 2) (22 page)

"We put out a news briefing saying that we were looking for Jack Bryant for a couple of reasons. One was to make Rita think that we weren't on to her, and second, to see if Maggie Bryant was involved in this whole mess. We expected that she would lead us right to Jack. We figured that after she left our barracks that she would run off to find Jack, and that's exactly what she did. We followed her up to Jack's hunting cabin but lost her after she left due to the storm. Based on some other news I'll share in a minute, it seems that she is clean and has no idea where Jack is. I honestly believe she is scared out of her mind about her son."

"Mark?" a trooper called out, "something doesn't add up for me. Why would Jack Bryant abduct his son and possibly his nephew as well? You said you weren't sure if he is involved in the Ron White murder, but doesn't the fact that he kidnapped two kids make him guilty of abduction?"

"Jack Bryant is a huge mystery right now," Mark said. "I have to believe that he knew his mother killed his father. I even suspect that he witnessed the murder based on him leaving a suicide note. Seeing your mother kill your own father has got to have a pretty severe effect on a kid. But, as for his involvement in the Ron White murder or what he knows, I still am unsure." Mark paused. "But yes, we are very interested in finding him, but this storm is not making things easy for us."

As if on demand, a strong wind gust sent howling sounds throughout the Bryant home. The windows reported that the heavy snow was now mixed with sleet by sounding high-pitched "pings" that filled the living room.

"What about the priests and what happened to the one priest up in the attic?"

"There's only one priest. Father John Flannigan is, in fact a priest and is the pastor over at St. Mark's Church. His associate is Derek Cole, a private investigator who likes to call himself a 'freelance detective.' He was asking Bill Jeffries questions over at his liquor store. Bill asked me if I had heard that there was a private investigator milling about town yesterday."

"If you knew he wasn't a priest, why did you let him search the house?"

"I got a call from Melissa Humphrey who is a teacher up at the public middle school. She told me about Derek Cole and what he was investigating. Seems that Robby Bryant thinks he is seeing a ghost. Jack and Maggie hired Derek to find out if someone convinced Robby that ghosts exist. I also found out that Derek Cole visited Ron White the day before Ron was killed. No idea what the conversation was about, but it seems that Derek Cole is here to chase ghosts."

"Mark," a trooper said tentatively, "then what the hell happened in the attic?"

"That, I do not know. There was no one up there with him. I know that much. And, based on his injuries, I do find it hard to believe they were self-inflicted, though I will admit to believing that he faked the whole incident at first. He had a scratch running up the middle of his back. It looked like fingernails made those scratches. I don't know what happened up there and don't know why he and Father John were looking for old family photographs, either. I was hoping to let them find what they needed, then have them followed, but the whole idea blew up in my face when Cole came crashing down from the attic. I thought that they might be involved in the Ron White murder and kidnapping at first, but I no longer suspect them of anything more than impersonating a priest and of being dishonest."

"What's the other intel you mentioned?"

"I don't believe Jack beat up his sister Vanessa or abducted her son, Matthew. Based on some of the files I've read on Ron White's computer, Jack had known about Vanessa and Matthew for quite a long time and, for whatever reason, was very intent on keeping their true identities away from public knowledge. There were a lot of strange notes on White's computer, many of them about his ghost hunts and his theories on ghosts. To me, they were all nonsense and a waste of time. But, the files and notes on Jack Bryant were enlightening.

"White believed Jack Bryant not only killed his own father, but two others involved in the investigation. Henry Turck was one of those White believed was killed to cover up the truth behind the murder. White also believed that a transient was murdered as well. According to White's notes, this transient was involved in some satanic ritual that Luke Bryant was a part of. No idea if this transient ever existed or not. Where Ron White made his mistake is when he neglected to consider Jack's mother, Rita Bryant, as a suspect. My suspicion is that Jack Bryant got his son, Robby, out of school to either keep him safe from Jack's own mother, Rita, or, and this possibility is tough to think about, to bring Robby to Rita so she can do to Robby whatever it is she is planning on doing to Matthew Jones.

"As for Maggie Bryant, neither I, nor any of our team or even Ron White found anything to suggest that she had any involvement in any of this mess. I believe that she suspected that Jack killed his own father, but that she has no idea if he really did. I have no evidence to suspect that she is helping or has helped her husband or Rita Bryant with any of the things that have recently happened. I am confident that she is just a very scared mother, desperate to get her son back in her arms. That makes her dangerous to herself. If I am right, she will not hesitate to approach Rita Bryant or her husband if she believes that doing so will get her son back. We have put out B.O.L.O.'S on every one of the Bryants, but this storm has us dead in our tracks." Mark drew a deep breath, knowing that the team of troopers assembled around him would be processing the information he just shared with them for several minutes.

"So," a trooper said, "we have evidence that Rita Bryant killed Ron White, for what reason, we don't know. We know that Vanessa Jones was assaulted, probably by Rita Bryant, but we aren't sure that Rita did the assaulting, and we don't know why Vanessa was assaulted. We know that Jack Bryant kidnapped his son, Robby, and believe that Rita Bryant kidnapped Matthew Jones, but aren't sure why they both took their respective abductees. And lastly, we have a priest-impersonating private detective, who was hired by the Bryants to capture a ghost. All seems crystal clear to me."

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

There was too much sin in the world for one woman to erase. Much too much cleaning. Rita knew that she too needed cleansing, but that God would take care of that Himself. She wasn't proud of what she had done, and she knew that her soul would forever be stained with sin as a result of her actions. But she also knew she was guided and directed in her actions.

Still, there was so much more cleaning that needed to be done.

There was so much filth in the world that, unfortunately, she knew was beyond her reach. But filth in her own family? That she could clean. She knew it would not be easy to do, and that others, those not guided and directed, would never understand. Unless they opened their hearts, they could never understand.
 

There would be many that Satan would send to try to stop her. She understood that, and she knew that, someday, eventually, Satan would find the right mix of sinners and her mission would draw to an end. But until that day, there was so much more cleaning that needed to be done.

She wasn't surprised when her only son in this world scolded her. He had yelled in utter disbelief and out of ignorance the day she began her mission. That was so many years ago, but the sting of being misunderstood by her own blood still traveled throughout her body. Then again, she always remembered that her son was not of pure blood. Her pure, cleansed blood was mixed in an ironic blend with another's. If only she could remove the unclean traces, her son could be spared.

As she sat in her dark living room, the storm screaming suggestions and instructions to her, she shook her head, knowing that it was her weakness that allowed the evil line to continue. If she had only the strength and courage that day when her mission began to end the line then and there, things wouldn't have spread.
 

She smiled when remembering that if it weren't for her only son that she would have never found out about the "other." It twisted her gut into a sour promise of wrenching to know that "she" existed. Born out of the very essence of human frailty and sin. She had ended the start of that sickening line as far back as she could, but now it had extended. Beyond the "other."

But she was guided and directed. Each step, unknown to her simple mind, was plotted and planned.
 

"That line will cease," she whispered, glancing at the young child bound and gagged in front of her. "And when that line is snuffed out in you, child born of sin and of dirt, the others will follow."

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"Where are you, Jack?" she asked.

"Mother, what have you done with Matthew and Vanessa?"

"You need to listen to your mother. Your mother asked where you are."

"I'm keeping my son safe from you," Jack fired back. "I know what you're planning, and you cannot have my son."

"Watch your tone with me, young man," Rita spat into the phone. "I was the one who saved you all those years ago before your evil father could have done only God knows what to you. Remember what you saw your father doing in the basement that night? I was the one who shielded you from harm. Wasn't it me," she asked, her voice low and calm, "that willingly sinned with that detective to keep you out of the reach of the police? Tell me, Jack, wasn't it me?"

"Mother," Jack said after a long pause, "you need help, and I can get you the help you need."

"Jack, I have more help than what you could provide if you lived a million years. And I have one other thing that you should know about, Jack."

Jack paused, his thoughts racing a thousand different directions. But soon his thoughts gathered together and pointed in a single direction. "Where is Matthew?"

"Oh, he's here with me, of course. Quiet as church mouse."

"Mother, do not..."

"Do not assume to give me commandments, Jack," she bellowed. "Giving commandments is not for you to offer but only for Him."

Jack glanced at Robby who was sleeping soundly in the back seat of his pickup truck. "Mother, I am going to the police, and I will tell them everything."

"Everything, Jack? Tell me, please, what is it that you plan on telling the police?"

"That you killed my father. That you made me write that letter confessing that I killed him. I will tell them that you seduced that cop who found that letter that you planted in my dresser, and that you threatened to tell his wife what he had done unless he made that letter unusable in court. I'll tell them that you killed Ron White because he was getting too close to finding out all your secrets. I'll tell them that you tried to kill Vanessa and that you kidnapped Matthew. I'll tell them everything."

The only word that stuck with Rita was "tried."

"What do you mean that I 'tried' to kill Vanessa?"

"You don't know, do you? That's right, mother, you failed. My sister is alive, and very soon she will wake up and confirm every part of my story."

"Listen closely, Jack," Rita said. Jack listened and heard movement through his cell phone's earpiece. Then he heard the stifled cries of a young boy. "I am willing to talk with you, Jack, but only if you come here. And bring your son, too."

"Mother, leave Matthew alone."

"Another commandment, Jack? Really, I thought I was clear. I have my mission, Jack, and He is not patient. Please use the Marginal Way entrance, as I do suspect my front door is being watched. And Jack?"

"What?"

"Do be careful driving here," Rita said. "This storm is certainly one for the ages, and I'd hate for anything to happen to you and my grandson. I'll expect you here in 30 minutes."

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Robby was, as he had always been, Jack's first priority. When Jack's mother had called him earlier in the day and told him of her plans, Jack knew he had to protect his son. He raced over to Robby's school, made up a story about a doctor's appointment and got his son far from the reach of Rita Bryant.

Over the past several years, things had been calm. Though he knew that there were still people with an active interest in solving his father's murder, Jack felt that at least his mother presented no threat. But the calm evaporated like morning fog on a steamy day when Ron White started digging around.

He had tried to get Ron to stop investigating, suggesting that he and his family had been through enough.

"Leave well enough alone," he pleaded with Ron. "I didn't kill my father and don't know who did. Please, leave my family alone."

He lied, of course. He was there that day his father came home stumbling drunk. He was in the kitchen when his father dropped himself into his favorite armchair and started crying and carrying on about the evil in the world. Jack watched from behind the kitchen's door frame as his mother charged into the living room and demanded that her husband shut his mouth and to "not invite evil spirits into her home." And, after the alcohol in his blood had grown too heavy for his consciousness to defend against, Jack watched his mother deliver a crushing blow to his father's head with his baseball bat.

He remembered how he felt that day and often wondered why he was concerned whether or not he would ever be able to hold that baseball bat in his hands again. It was the bat he used to hit the walk-off home run in the playoff game the season before. It was the bat his father had given him just two years before as a reward for getting straight "A's" in school. And now the bat, his bat, was lying on the living room floor, marred with his father's blood, and clumps of skull and hair.

"Help me move him," his mother called to him. "I don't want his dirty blood all over my living room carpet."

Jack walked silently into the living room and, grabbing one of this father's arms, helped his mother drag his own father through the kitchen, and out through the back door, before dropping him in a snowdrift in the backyard.

"The cold won't protect him from the fires of hell," his mother said as she slammed the door and went about the task of cleaning the blood-splattered living room walls.