The Seekers, page 16
“Congratulations,” Keri said. “Did your husband’s family wind up hating him, or you, or anything like that?”
“Oh no. That’s the point—a person makes his own choice. We are what they call ‘outsiders’ now, but his folks know that we’re teaching our children about the Amish faith. While it’s not easy, they can join the church if they choose to.”
“That’s nice.”
“The Amish don’t mingle with outsiders often because they’re afraid it will taint their faith, but they’re not mean or hateful. Naturally, they are human beings, some better than others. But as a whole, the communities are very fine.”
“That’s great to hear. So, what does your husband think about the Miller Inn and Tavern?”
Keri laughed softly. “Ethan thinks it’s a beacon for pure evil. I’ve tried to tell him that buildings really can’t be evil—they are made of concrete, wood, stone. He actually knows I’m right, but he still believes that this area is evil and has been for a very long time.”
“People can be evil,” Keri told her.
“Oh yes. There have always been rumors about something going on out here. Many like to believe that it’s some kind of a sect broken off from an Amish community, but that’s because they don’t know anything about the Amish. From what I understand, the young people from Ethan’s old community avoid this place like the plague, even when they head out for Rumspringa. There are rumors that the devil lives in the woods, or one of his minions, at least. There are rumors of people just disappearing out here. Tales by teenagers drinking beer in the graveyard? Who knows. I couldn’t have said anything that was fact. Until now. But if the powers that be know if Special Agent Julie Castro was killed in a rite or killed for being too close on a case, it’s not filtering down the ranks.”
Keri shook her head. “If anyone knows anything, they haven’t told me, either.”
As promised, Belinda was very good at cleaning up. They quickly had the kitchen tidy.
“Well, I need to get back to my post,” she said.
“If you want me to send you some books, I can,” Keri promised.
“I’d love to read your work! Now, let me walk you to the museum and deliver you safely to Mr. Joe Dunhill. He’s popped his head in here a few times.”
“Really?” Keri said. “I didn’t even see him.”
“He’s looking out for you, big-time. I don’t blame him. Safety in numbers here. And, if you don’t mind my saying, he’s a good-looking dude. Hot. Those eyes of his. You two dating?”
“Um, no. We just met.”
“Hey, hey, hey, sometimes that’s the best way, to just sleep with someone, huh? Oh, wow, sorry, too much, way too soon. Um, please, don’t report me to the battleship.”
Keri laughed. “I wouldn’t report you... The battleship?”
“Detective Catrina Billings. Hell on wheels.”
“I promise, I won’t report you. I like you far too much.”
She wasn’t all that surprised when Belinda gave her a warm hug. “Let me get you back to your boys and get me back to work.”
Back in the museum room with the “boys,” Keri sat down at the desk. The three men looked at her.
“What?” she asked.
“Curious as to why she wanted to be alone with you,” Joe said. “Did she have some kind of astounding revelation to make?”
“No, not at all,” Keri said. “She was nice. And as efficient as promised. She rather affirmed a concept we’re working on, though. Her husband was Amish, grew up in Lancaster, but left the church after his Rumspringa.”
“His rumspring?” Carl asked. “They...drink a lot of rum?”
“Rumspringa. It’s a period of freedom from obligation,” Joe said. “Amish young people get to make the choice to stay with the church or not.”
“Oh, that’s a very good thing then. Choice is always good,” Carl said. He looked at Keri. “And by the way, I actually am quite good at cleaning a kitchen, too. Okay, so if I happen to be alone, I usually eat on a paper plate. But my mom made me clean. I’m okay at it. I like doing dishes, in a way.”
“We all do dishes,” Dallas said, grinning. “Self-sufficient.”
“You like doing dishes, too?” Keri asked Joe, amused.
“I do them well. Do I like doing them? Not particularly, but they’re there. You do them. Back to concepts—what else did Belinda say?”
“Oh, her husband, Ethan, believes that the inn itself is evil, which she tells me he knows isn’t true, but there’s a long-standing rumor that the devil himself lives in the woods. And we agreed that it’s people, not buildings, who can be evil.”
“Definitely true.” Joe taped a sheet to one wall.
She saw that they had made a display, removing the pictures that had been there, and putting up specific likenesses and sheets of paper as well. A time line depicted the past and the present. Newby was there, and Hank Bergen, along with a picture of Beatrice, and sketches and photos of those who had been murdered the night Newby had been hewn down. In place of a crime scene photo, there was a sheet of the words that had been written by the journalist Creighton Mariner, describing the scene at the inn when he had been called in with other men by the coroner:
The killings were so frenzied and brutal that blood and brain matter were found in many a room. Truly, the sight was so ghoulish and gruesome one could only think of the work of a demonic hellhound. Yet, none of this compared to the discoveries deep in the basement where it came to light that Mr. John Newby was ridding himself of unwanted servants and guests, in the most ghastly way possible.
Next, there were pictures of Julie Castro, kidnap victim Barbara Chrome, Spencer Atkins, Milly and Rod Kendall and Stan Gleason, and each member of the Truth Seekers.
And Carl. And her.
“Nice. You’re going to have that up when you bring the Truth Seekers back in here?” Keri asked.
“Not sure yet,” Dallas said. “I have you and Carl up there. Doesn’t say that you’re suspects—just that you’re the folks who were here when Julie Castro was found. And here,” he added, pointing to Spencer and the caterers, “are people who were in the house on the day the body was found.”
She noticed as well that there were notations beneath each picture. The old pictures listed date of birth and death, and the contemporary pictures noted date and place of birth. Carl Brentwood from L.A., Brad Holden, Pete Wright and Eileen Falcon were all from New York, Mike Lerner was from Chicago, and Serena Nelson was from Charleston. Rod and Milly Kendall were from York County, as was their partner, Stan Gleason, and Spencer Atkins.
“I think we’ll leave them up. Make people question just what we’re doing,” Dallas said. “There are two theories we’re working on and they might go together. The first is that there’s a cult at work here. The second is that both someone local and someone not local may be involved.”
“And there may well be a New York connection,” Joe said.
“Because Brad is from New York?” Keri asked skeptically.
“Because Barbara Chrome was abducted in New York,” Dallas said. His phone rang, and he excused himself to answer it but didn’t leave the room.
“It’s Angela,” he told Joe.
“Angela Hawkins, back at headquarters,” Joe told Keri and Carl.
Dallas listened a few minutes and glanced over at Joe. He thanked Angela and rang off.
“She checked back over the last two decades for me, looking at missing-person reports. There are dozens that center around Philadelphia. And literally thousands in New York... Well, the police always have a tough time when young adults go missing because some are almost grown-up runaways, some go underground because of drugs or criminal activity, some are really in trouble and some are never seen again. There is no direct tie-in, as in people disappearing straight from the Miller Inn and Tavern, but Angela did find three women who stayed here, showed up in Philadelphia and then disappeared—one a year ago, one five years ago and one eight years ago.”
“Three,” Keri repeated. “That would mean that they’re possibly luring people out here and then killing them every few years?”
Dallas and Joe looked at one another. “Yes,” Dallas said quietly. “But the end game is out here. Maybe most of the time in the church, but since we know about the site now, they may have to have a change of venue, or maybe the church wasn’t their usual venue. The thing is, we think that these three might be just a few of the people taken.”
“Oh, my God. You mean, they might have been killing for years and years, and no one has had any idea?” Carl asked with a choking sound.
“Yes, and it’s really gone far enough. You two should just get out of here. Honestly, Carl, if you could just close the place, you might be way better off,” Joe told him, waving a hand toward the screenplay Carl was holding. “Shoot your movie.”
“I’d sure love to. Sadly, I’m a coward at heart. I have a beautiful life, and I want to keep leading it. I can’t go now. Neither can Keri,” Carl said.
“What?” Dallas asked.
“We’re trying to let you off the hook,” Joe said.
“We’re in charge. Unless you have a traffic violation or something else she could use against you, Detective Billings can’t keep you here,” Dallas told them.
“You don’t understand,” Keri said. “We can’t move on.”
“We’re scared. We’d never know who to trust again. These people have kidnapped and killed—I’m in New York a lot. We have to stay with you until you catch these people.”
Joe and Dallas looked at one another again. Keri knew they were thinking that even if law enforcement was incredibly good, killers weren’t always caught.
“Here’s what I don’t get,” Keri said, bringing the conversation back to point. “Why kill an FBI agent and put her in the Miller Inn and Tavern in the middle of a paranormal investigation? They’ve been killing so quietly. Why would they do something like that?”
“That is a good question. They had to know what they were doing. The only thing I can think is that whoever is leading them had it all happen as a way to keep control,” Dallas said.
“Control... When the murder went all over the news everywhere?” Keri said.
“The ‘if I go down, you go down’ mentality,” Joe told her.
“This is a federal crime,” Dallas said. “The murder of a law enforcement officer, a federal agent. There’s a moratorium on the death penalty in Pennsylvania, but when you’ve got a dead FBI agent and you’re in federal court...” He let his voice trail, lifting his hands.
“So, we think that there’s a cult or sect or something like that,” Keri said, “and they’ve made use of the reputation of this place, and Julie was killed on purpose so that people would be too terrified to talk?”
“We’re still on working theories,” Dallas said.
His phone rang again. He answered it and listened, thanked the caller and hung up. “Detective Billings,” he said. “They’ve been questioning people at sushi restaurants all over the area and they haven’t come up with anyone who saw Julie Castro. Of course, they’ll keep going. She said that she’d been doing a lot of the questioning herself.”
“That’s good. Anything new from Special Agent Dot Harrington and her partner?” Joe asked.
“She called earlier. The doctor thinks that Ed Newel will be cognizant enough for a real conversation tomorrow. Dot thought one of us might want to be out there,” Dallas said.
“I’ll head in,” Joe said.
There was a knock at the wooden door to the tavern. Keri jumped.
“Hey,” Joe said softly. “Someone knocked. That’s a good sign.” He smiled at her.
She flushed and nodded, following him to the door. Dallas was there already, opening it to see Belinda with a small group of people.
The Truth Seekers.
Dallas appeared aggravated, but he was controlled when he spoke. “Brad, I told you Carl would be in contact with you when it was time to come back in.”
“I know, I know,” Brad said, waving at Carl and Keri, standing a few feet behind Dallas and Joe.
“So?” Dallas asked.
“We just thought it would be okay to come in for a minute. We hadn’t heard from Carl, and you’ve been gone a bit, and frankly,” Brad said, “we were worried.”
“We’re fine, just waiting for real clearance,” Carl said.
“We’re not ready for everyone to come back in yet to stay,” Joe said, “but I think we have some great pastries that need to get eaten. Dallas, they’re here now. Let’s talk for a minute in the tavern.”
“Sure,” Dallas said.
Brad entered first, Serena behind him, then Mike and then Pete and Eileen, hand in hand.
“Carl, I thought the place was yours again,” Brad said.
“Not quite. But soon,” Dallas answered for him.
“I’ll go find the pastries, and start some coffee,” Keri said. “And tea, if anyone would prefer.”
Grunts that basically assured her coffee was fine went around.
“Hey, you prepared that fantastic dinner,” Carl said. “You should sit and relax, and let someone else get the pastries.”
“You made a great dinner, and we weren’t invited?” Brad teased.
“Every now and then.” Keri turned to Carl. “I know where everything is. I’ll only be a minute.”
She fled toward the kitchen, and realized she was being followed. Serena was close on her heels, smiling and peppy as ever.
“You know where everything is but direct me. We didn’t mean to put you out,” she told Keri. “And you know me. Restless as ever. I’d love to be doing something.”
“Okay, thanks. The catering company is good. They left all kinds of wonderful individual desserts—little pecan tarts, blueberry tarts, cherry tarts, little brownies,” Keri said. “I’ll start coffee. It will only take a few minutes, I imagine. Oh, and the flatware is in that drawer, plates up there in the cupboard.”
“Got it,” Serena said, blond hair swinging around her face as she reached into the cabinet. She set plates down on the counter and looked around. “I think I’m anxious to get back in here, with the cops or FBI or whatever.” She paused and looked at Keri, and then whispered, “So...have you experienced anything? Footsteps, doors closing... This place is soooo haunted.”
“Ah, well, I’m not a paranormal expert,” Keri said.
“We should be allowed to come back to stay at the inn, too,” Serena said. “That cop, Detective Billings, she was by today. As far as she knew, we could come. I don’t know why that FBI guy is being so weird about us. We’re the ones who should be in here.”
“Well, I know Dallas plans on allowing you in soon,” Keri said.
Serena shrugged. “I know how horrible and serious it all is, but hey, bad things happen in other places, and when it’s a business, people have to get back at it. Carl should be fighting harder for us. I mean, we agreed to do this for him, so—”
“Carl is a good person. I’m sure he’s doing his best.”
“So, you haven’t been seeing ghosts. What have you been doing?”
“A lot of reading,” Keri said.
“Oh, of course, trying to solve the old murder, right?”
“Right,” Keri said. “I’ll just take the plates out.”
She started toward the door and saw that Joe was just inside the kitchen. She didn’t know how long he had been there, but she smiled. He and Dallas were great watchdogs. She really was never alone with anyone—including cute, little, energetic Serena.
“Thought I should see if I could help, too,” he said. “Want me to grab something?”
“Cups—no, let’s go with mugs,” Keri said. “I’ll grab the cream and sugar and a bunch of the mini desserts.”
When they entered the tavern with their first delivery of food and utensils, Carl jumped up, insisting he could help. One more trip and everything was out of the kitchen and set on a table. The group stood and helped themselves, and then found chairs at tables close together.
Apparently, Brad had been as persistent with Dallas about getting back in as he had been with Keri. Dallas, however, was cool, smooth and unmovable.
“Brad, I swear, when I’m finished with everything I need to do here,” Dallas said, “I will be clearing Carl to let you back in.”
“And you’ll be leaving?” Brad asked hopefully. “We work best alone. Ghosts don’t show when there are skeptics in the house,” he said, adding a smile to his words, as if to make them pleasant but true.
Dallas smiled, glancing over at Joe. “We’ll be here as long as we need to be here,” he said.
“Is there anything new at all?” Serena asked. “I feel like we’re on pins and needles, waiting.”
“You know that we can’t tell you anything in an active investigation,” Dallas said.
“Still following leads,” Joe said. “So, what have you been doing? How do you like York County? Have you taken any trips around the countryside?”
Eileen, seated close to Pete and holding hands, laughed softly. “Well, I think we’ve tried out most of the chain restaurants off the highway.”
“Hey, that was almost a joke from Miss I’m-so-serious,” Serena said, reaching out to pat Eileen and Pete’s joined hands. “Yes, we have tried them all,” she said, beaming happily.
