The Innocence Read online

  They watched until the car was out of site then turned back to their reading. They still had a lot of work to do and the year, for them, was only just beginning.

  Chapter 4

  “You’re not listening. Look. Please just look at these clippings. Please!” Panic, mixed with desperation, dripped from Kelly’s voice as she thrust the copies of the discovered articles under the stern countenance of Police Chief Merrels. The chief stared back at her from behind his small rectangular reading glasses as though she had just delivered a dead possum found on the road.

  “Little lady. You have got to be kidding me with this Nancy Drew bullshit.” He dipped his head down to his chest as he raised one gnarled hand to scratch at his newly acquired bald spot. He had only recently noticed the hair disappearing in a neat patch at the crown of his head and could have sworn, since then, that it had become a target for every insect in the county. Merrels was known to swear, curse, spit and smoke but was one of the best police chiefs that Oyster Ridge had known in its history. That was the reason he had been at his post for the last 20 years.

  “Of course I remember the story of Bobby Warren. Hell, I was just figuring out how to be Chief back then but that became quite the sensationalist piece. Sort of a stone in my new career. They had reporters from every county in the state out here taking pictures of our scenery and local townsfolk. Nothin’ ever came of nothin’ though. We figured it wasn’t the dad on account of him being seen drinking till the early morning the night that his son went missin’. Damn shame for those folks. Damn shame.” And with that, the chief settled back into his oversized faux leather chair to once again fix his gaze on the two women disrupting his office.

  Kelly let loose a frustrated growl and grabbed her long brown hair in a dramatic display as she paced the small office. Rita could see they were loosing the war but couldn’t ignore the feeling that what Kelly was saying was completely correct. Something about these two instances begged for connection, for attention to be paid. Suddenly it occurred to her.

  “Wait a minute.” She whirled her chair around and grabbed her friends shoulder so hard it made Kelly wince.

  “Kelly you’re Catholic. What day is November 2 ^ nd?”

  “Um, how the heck should I know? I haven’t practiced in years.” She let out a bitter nervous laugh.

  “Come on, just think about it?”

  “All Saints Day I think.”

  “Right and what is the point of All Saints Day? Isn’t that the day that celebrates the faithful?”

  Kelly stopped pacing the office and stared at her friend in disbelief. “No, well yes sort of. All Saints Day is when we begin a period of purification and enlightenment. There are three celebrations known as the ‘scrutinies’ when we purge ourselves and open the heart for the purer faith.”

  As she finished, she turned to see Chief Merrels staring at her with a look of disdainful interest. “What are you? The church choir?” he asked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

  Kelly blushed, her pale skin turning red to the roots of her hair. “No, I mean, I went to church with Mom before she died but that was it. Don’t you remember how fanatic she was about all the celebrations?”

  Indeed, everyone in Oyster Bay remember Margaret Reiss, the overzealous widow who had convinced the entire town to ban the selling of sweets and liquors for the Lent season ten years back. She had died in a car accident involving a seasonal tourist who was inexperienced to the winding roads entering Oyster Ridge. In her will she had stipulated a funeral with the strictest adherence to a traditional catholic mass lasting 4 hours. The townspeople had struggled through it without so much as a whimper, but still made miserly jokes behind Kelly’s back. Shortly after her mother’s death Kelly had moved back, dropping out of university to become the town’s librarian and running joke. Kelly handled it with resigned grace, fully acknowledging to all who cared to make a comment that her mother had gone to truly biblical extents towards the end of her life.

  Chief Merrels glanced slowly from Rita to Kelly and back. As he stared his eyebrows seemed to furrow deeper and deeper towards his eyes. He let out a grunt of a resignation and pulled the ancient book towards him. “Alright, tell me what you think is going on.”

  Rita took a deep breath. Since the entire idea had been Kelly’s she had taken the back seat. But now, seeing the state of tension her friend was in she decided to take over with the explanation. She quickly but thoroughly summarized what they had found in the press records and tied in the most recent killings to finish with “…and we think they are all connected. The first appeared as accidents but maybe whoever is responsible for this is getting bored with it. Or maybe they are getting bolder. You know they’ve potentially gotten away with it for the last 18 years. Maybe they need something new.”

  Chief Merrels had sunk back into the depths of his chair. “Yes, but why now?”

  “Why ever?” Kelly countered. “Why start in the first place. That’s more of the question. But maybe now it’s easier. Maybe they have figured out what to do and how to do it. Or maybe they have a new reason. Maybe the first two were just trials.”

  Rita looked at her friend with a hint of disbelief. Where had that come from? She was taking the death of her neighbor far too personally. She was getting too involved into this. Rita needed to end this conversation before her friend went too far and ruined the chances of the Police Chief taking them seriously.

  “Anyways, here is all the information we found.” Rita interrupted, handing over a pack of copies and texts. “Obviously you know better what to do with all this that’s why we are here.” Turning to her friend she added, “I think it’s time we let the Chief do his job and we go enjoy a distraction.” Her friend turned to her with a look of weary bitterness across her features. “How can we find any enjoyment in any of this?” She looked down at the papers on the chief’s desk but let herself be led away. Chief Merrels watched the girls disappear down the hallway then turned to look at the “evidence”. He had to give them credit. Those two little librarians had come up with some pretty damning suggestions. But was it possible in this little town, for something to go so completely wrong.

  He remembered the murder of Bobby Warren. The body had been mutilated as though it had been an act of desperation before it was tied and sent to the bottom of the cove. Skin had been removed from the face, stomach, and legs, as well as two finger bones, the tongue and the eyes. Blood had been found in the woods close by but had been mistaken for a hunter’s kill rather than a child’s murder. The boy had suffered, that much the coroner had been sure of. It was messy, unplanned, but not a shred of evidence was found. He consoled himself on this failure with the fact that in the 80’s the type of analysis that could have solved the case hadn’t been released to the field quite yet. Now with the most recent murders, he couldn’t deny the fact that it had reminded him directly of the Warren case. The three children. Their peaceful faces. Their mutilated bodies. The strange marks on the spines. Coroner Michaels had said they had been drugged before dying. But still it was horrifying to think that someone could have done such a thing. Something about their deaths echoed in his mind and connected with the Warren boy. Ritualistic, one journalist had described it. Merrels would have to agree. Ritualistic is exactly what it was. But in a catholic community that kind of statement was likely to set off a modern day witch hunt. This was exactly the kind of situation he had hoped to avoid by becoming the Chief of a town with a population under 5,000. And now here it was dropped in his lap. It was time to get to work. Merrels pulled a pack of Camel’s from the back of his drawer and struck a match. It was going to be a long night.

  Walking out of the police office Rita did her best to muster up her energy and instill her friend with a lighter purpose. “C’mon. I think it’s time I take you up on the blind date offer.”

  Kelly looked at her with a sad sort of smile. “Really?”

  “Sure. How about tomorrow night?”

  “What about the kids? Do you have a
sitter or anything?”

  “Yeah, don’t worry about them. They’ll be fine. It’s you I’m worried about. I have the perfect person for your date though.”

  “Wait, who?”

  Rita let out a laugh that surprised the both of them as though they hadn’t heard any sound of the like in too long. “I can’t tell you, it’s supposed to be a blind date! I'll see you at 7 tomorrow. Try and enjoy the weekend huh?”

  Kelly replied with a sidewise smile touched with a hint of bitterness as she fingered the keys for her own pickup. “I’ll try.” She replied and without either saying goodnight the two departed for their homes, both thinking of children gone missing.

  Once home Rita made the calls and verified the blind date for the next night. Matthew Bradson, an old friend and the teacher at Little Pearls Pre-School agreed to the set-up with his only condition being that he knew the other man going. Since he and Jack had been buddies since Jack had come to Oyster Bay he had no hesitations choosing the location and promising to show. Matthew was known to be a bit of a lady’s man, making his rounds of the eligible women in town and those just traveling through earning himself a bit of a reputation. Rita knew him to be a standup guy and trusted him to show his date a respectfully good time. “Trust me, Rita. I wouldn’t miss this chance to make some lucky lady’s night.”

  When Rita hung up the phone she pulled out her journal to jot down the points of the day’s investigation. Three children and two tourists had seemed to fall victim to a similar fate. What was it that made them connected besides the subjects themselves? There was something missing from the puzzle, some piece that could make the whole picture come into focus. Eyes drowsy from the day she resigned to putting down the book and turning off her bedside lamp. Falling asleep, she began thinking of her own children sleeping safely in the rooms. She knew she had made the right choice bringing them here for safety but maybe this wasn’t the right small town to look for sanctuary in. She looked over to her nightstand and the small Aztec engraving she had picked up on a summer vacation with the kids last year, closing her eyes to the memories. Suddenly her eyes shot open and she flipped the lamp back on. She grabbed the engraving to look in closer detail at what she remembered the tour guide describing as a sacrificial ceremony. There on the altar lay the slave with his heart beating in the priest’s hand; the priest’s face pulled into a grimace of victory as snakes and other deities swarmed about him. Rita picked up her cell phone and made an appointment with Father Phillips for first thing in the morning. There was no sense in waiting.

  Chapter 5

  “The ideas of spiritual purging and ritual sacrifices have been around since the time of the Aztecs, and even before I’m sure. When religions still centered on vengeful gods needing appeasement or the ideas that we could control their affection by giving them gifts, sacrifice was in its prime. The Incas left children on mountain tops; Aztecs sent sacred hearts from war victims into a purging fire. Even the bible has accounts of God asking for a human sacrifice to test the faith of Isaac. We know of course that he prevents the sacrifice of Isaac’s oldest child, asking instead for a ram. So it exists even in the works of Christianity. But the sacrifice of children is an abomination to a loving God so I’m not sure why you would think the church may be tied into this.”

  “Father Phillips, I don’t think it is. I’m just asking about all this sacrifice stuff because I had a thought last night looking at this engraving.” Rita pulled out the small square figure with the depiction engraved and handed to Father Phillips for inspection. “My thought was maybe some sort of sacrifice, religious or not, is going on and maybe you might have some ideas. I know you studied world religions in school before choosing the ministry. Do you have any thoughts at all?”

  The priest inspected the figure with interest before handing back over to Rita who slid it immediately into her purse. He drew his hand across his chin as they walked, stopping to glance up at a mural depicting the Old Testament from the tree and the garden to the exile from Eden, the plagues of Egypt, and the exodus of the Jews. What reason would anyone have, in their small community especially, to kill children? That was the kind of thing that happened in those large cities. Not in Oyster Ridge Bay. “If the victims were all women I would say you have someone who believes in the stories of original sin.” He told her, after many minutes lost in thought. But the victims are males and females.

  “The story of original sin? You mean where Eve takes the apple that will destroy their innocence and gives it to Adam to take a bite of as well?”

  “Yes, the story goes that the two had the innocence of children as they lived in the garden. However, by eating from the tree of knowledge that innocence was shattered and they were exiled from Eden.”

  Rita had been looking at the mural and admiring the depictions with ease until her head snapped around to look at the father as he was talking. “What did you say? What was that about children?” she asked, pointing her finger at him as she came closer.

  “Adam and Eve. They’ve been described as having the innocence of children before they ate of the forbidden fruit.”

  “That’s it isn’t it? Innocence?” Rita became more and more animated with the dread and exhilaration of discovering the evil truth. “All of the children still had their innocence before they died. They never had the chance for it to be lost or stolen did they? And now they are gone. Just in time for All Souls Day, a day of spiritual purification and preparation for a purer faith.”

  Father Phillip’s eyes widened with the implication and connections the young woman had drawn. Suddenly the two saw that it was exactly as they had connected the murders of the children. That someone had sacrificed them in order to save their own innocence before it was stolen from them. Rita glanced at her watch. She had been with the Priest for much longer than she had anticipated. She needed to get home, get the kids prepared and head out for her blind date although the mood for that event had long since left her. The question now was who could possibly be behind these actions. Who had a past twisted enough to need to create a reality such as this? She thanked Father Phillip who blessed her and excused her as she flew out the churches doors.

  Father Phillip waved her goodbye and turned to enter into the confessionals chamber of the church where a parishioner had been waiting for a while now. His heart felt heavy with the development he and Rita had just made on the crimes. How could this happen in his little town? Where had he gone wrong to lose one of his flock to such evils? Casting the disparaging thoughts aside he entered into his side of the partition and slid open the grating. As he began making the sign of the cross he saw the glint of metal as a blade sliced through the thin netting and into his throat. As he crumpled down to the floor, blood oozing from between his fingers the last thing he heard was, “Forgive me father, for I have sinned.” And then all was blackness.

  Chapter 6

  The date had been a big success. Although she had been more than slightly uncomfortable in the beginning, Rita had found herself warming up to Jack more than she expected and by the end of the evening they were laughing and talking as though they were sitting alone. Kelly and Matthew had also hit it off with each other, flirting and touching arms and hands by the end of the evening. They had known each other for years but this was the first opportunity the four friends had found to see if their relationships might go somewhere further. After the last bottle of wine had been drained Matthew and Kelly said goodnight and left Rita and Jack at the table, arms linked, waving as they walked past the restaurants large windows. Rita couldn’t help but feel a little of the good hearted nature of the evening suffusing her body. It felt good to forget for a moment that all of the world's ugliness was occurring right outside. Jack was charming and handsome, she had to admit the attraction, but when Kelly and Matthew left, she suddenly felt the urge to get back to work. She turned to her date who had been watching her face slide slowly into concentration.

  “Where did you go stranger?” Jack asked her, pushing one of her
loose hairs back into line with its partners.

  “Oh I’m sorry. This has been such a lovely evening but with the newspaper headlines yesterday and the kids that were found I’ve been so distracted.

  Jack’s face immediately creased into a deep frown. “I know. I’m sure as a mom you feel it a little bit more, but I know everyone is so affected by what is happening. Parents have been calling all week to ask what measures the school is taking to make sure no children go missing during school hours”

  Rita felt tears threatening her eyes and gazed down at her empty wineglass to refocus. Feeling Jack’s presence she wanted more than anything to share her conclusions from her talk with Father Phillips. “Can I tell you something? I just need to share it with someone else.”

  Jack drained the last of his glass and met her gaze without flinching. “Of course. What do you need to tell me?”

  Rita told him the events of the day before, of her research in the library, of talking to Chief Merrels and Father Phillips and of the conclusion she had reached with the help of the Aztec engraving. Jack listened without interruption and when she finished she realized his hand had been twined with hers the entire time. She glanced down at it and back at Jack but didn’t remove her fingers from where they were entwined. Right as he went to respond Deputy Patrick burst into the restaurant and spoke to the host. He was animated and his voice quickly rose before he burst back out the door. The restaurant manager looked incredibly pale and motioned for the patrons to all be silent. The sizzling of the pans in the back room was all that could be heard.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen. You are about to hear this news anyways so I would rather tell you now. Father Phillips was found murdered in the confessional this afternoon. The coroner’s office has just confirmed he was stabbed. There’s a fingerprint but we don’t know anything else.”