Chapter Four

  "It's all such a blur," Emily said as she forced herself to a standing position and wiped the tears from her face. "I was hanging out with some friends at a party." She saw John shake his head in disappointment and countered. "It wasn't that kind of party. It was just a few of my classmates hanging out – a birthday party, Detective."

  "I'm sorry, Emily, please continue."

  She took a deep, frustrated breath, and gave Jacob a long look, as if asking if she should really trust this man. When Jacob smiled, she released the air from her lungs, her body seeming to shrink a couple of inches as the tension left her body. "The music was pretty loud when my cell phone rang. So I excused myself and went outside to take the call."

  "And?" John asked, his tone urgent.

  "And," she responded as her brow tightened. "The music was still pretty loud, so I moved to the side of the house where it was quieter." Emily hesitated for a moment, sure that John would interrupt her if she continued. But he held his tongue. "I guess I wasn't really paying attention to anything going on around me. You see, I was talking to, Mike, my boy—" The tears immediately erupted as she covered her face with her hands. It was times like this that John hated his job. And at that very moment, it didn't matter if one was dead or alive, it seemed that the dead went through the same emotion as the living — sorrow. "Oh my God," she whimpered. "Someone please take me to see Mike. I have to tell him that I love him one more time."

  John felt the tears well up in his eyes as he shook his head. "Is Mike's last name Barton?" Emily slowly nodded her head. "Was he at the party?"

  "He was on his way," she said, her tears flowing freely from her swollen eyes and dripping from her trembling hands.

  John took a deep breath and exhaled as he turned to look at Jacob, hoping that somehow this little guy could make this easier. But all that he received was a gentle nod. John turned back to the emotionally distraught apparition and said, "I am sorry, Emily. But you can't see him. He is the one that called the police. I am afraid that he already knows about what happened to you."

  "I don't care, I just want to see him!"

  Jacob took a step forward and gently touched his cold fingers to Emily's arm. "I know how you feel. There are people that I want to say goodbye to also. But just think how hard that would be on them. Try to imagine what that would put them through."

  "Jacob is right, Emily. If Mike were to see you right now, it would tear at his sanity."

  She jerked her hands away from her face and in an act of defiance she shouted. "Then why can you see us, Detective?"

  "I really don't..."

  "Because he is special, Emily."

  Jerking her head toward the little blue boy she yelled. "And what does that mean?"

  "It just means that he is in a place right now that makes it possible for him to see both worlds."

  Her body now shaking, she mumbled, "It just isn't fair."

  "I know," John said with compassion filling his voice. "And I know that this is hard, but I need you to..."

  "To tell you how my life was ripped from me?" She demanded.

  "Yes," he replied, choking back his own tears.

  "Fine," she said with gritted teeth, "But when I get done here, I am going to make him pay. I may not know how yet, but I am going to find a way to haunt him for the rest of his life!" Emily took a moment to compose herself, taking several deep breaths before returning to her story. "I walked around to the back of the house where it was quiet. I was trying to give Mike directions to the house when I noticed something odd in the darkness."

  "What was it?" John asked.

  "I saw two people standing in the alley. I thought they were my friends, so I wanted to surprise them. But when I got close, when I realized I was wrong, it was too late."

  "How so?"

  "It wasn't my friends, and I had seen too much."

  John bit his lower lip for a moment, trying to maintain his patience. "What had you seen, Emily?"

  "I saw the man that killed me taking money from another person. It wasn't just a few dollars either. There were several stacks bundled together. And then I saw the man hand him a duffel bag. That is when I stepped on the fallen tree branch."

  "And the drug dealer killed you because you were in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

  She nodded her head. "Yes that is the reason why. But it wasn't that simple. I don't know how I reacted so fast. I could feel him pulling at my hair as I turned away. I just started running. I wanted to get away from the house."

  "Why did you do that? Wouldn't you have been safer there?"

  She shrugged her shoulders. "Doesn't really matter now, does it? But to answer your question, I didn't want to get anyone else hurt. So I ran... here. I thought that I had gotten away. I thought that I lost him in the woods or maybe he had just given up. But I hid in that stall for a long time."

  "So what happened next?" John asked as his chest tightened, not sure that he was ready to hear the first-hand account.

  "I waited there for a long time. I don't know how long it was, but it was long enough for me to calm down and really listen. There wasn't a single sound to be heard. So I crawled out of the stall and was taking my time to get to the main doors. I wanted to make sure that I could get a good look outside and make sure that it was clear. But just as I was stepping out through those doors, my world fell apart. I don't know how he got into the barn, but he had. His hands wrapped so tight around my throat that I was sure I was already dead."

  Not wanting to hear all the violent details, John asked. "Can you tell me who it was?"

  Emily pressed her fingertips to her temples and started massaging them as she closed her eyes.

  "I remember hearing the other man call him something. I don't think it was his real name though."

  "What was it?" John urged.

  "The man called him, 'Chief'.'"

  John's head spun toward little Jacob as he heard the little boy gasp. "What is it Jacob?"

  Jacob extended his little hand, grasping John's arm as his little body began to tense and his life-light flicker. John couldn't believe his eyes, and his heart couldn't stand to see the incredible fear and desperation in the little guy's eyes.

  "I have a feeling that you might want to hurry and finish your story," John said with and urgent tone as he glanced back at Emily.

  "There really isn't much more to tell."

  "Just tell it!" he said, still unable to tear his eyes away from his little friend, his heart sinking as he watched the reality of terror in little Jacob's eyes. John knew the horrific expression was a true reflection of what little Jacob experienced the moment that he stared death in the eyes.

  "The man drug me back into the barn. He had one hand around my throat, and one covering my mouth. I was trying to fight, I was trying to get away. But he just laughed at me as he described what he was going to do to me before he killed me." She hesitated for a moment before her eyes shot wide.

  "Is there something else?" His voice tense.

  "I think so. Maybe. I'm not really sure."

  "Just tell me and I will decide whether it's worth anything. But please hurry," he begged. John reached out and pulled little Jacob to his chest and held him as tightly as one might be able to hold something that really wasn't there. He wanted to make everything better. He wanted to take their pain away. Instead, he was just reminded about all the people that he had failed over his career. His heart broke for all those who had died on his watch.

  "Okay, well, he shoved me against the wall hard enough that I landed on the ground. Everything was so blurry. But I heard a sound that I will always remember, something that I heard every time my grandfather smoked his pipe. I saw the man's face light up as he lit his cigarette. The smile on his face was evil."

  "So far this isn't helping."

  "I know, I'm sorry, this is hard for me to get a grip on too, you know. Anyway, I made one last attempt to get away. I thought that I might have a chance with the fla
me so close to his eyes. So I shoved the heel of my foot between his legs as hard as I could."

  "I'm sorry that didn't help you get away, Emily."

  "Yeah me too," she said with a strong tone of regret. "But when I kicked him, it really surprised him. And I think that I might be able to show you something that will help."

  "Please do," he said, coming to his feet. "What is it?"

  "Let me have him," Emily said extending her arms, "I think I can help in that area too," she said as she reached for little Jacob.

  John hesitated for a moment, but noticing that the light that surrounded his little friend was fading fast, he said "Okay, but take good care of him."

  She nodded her head and smiled for the first time. "I will. Now go check the far corner of the barn. If it's still there, you should be able to find it."

  "Find what?" John mumbled as he turned away. His heart sank, certain that he was going to look like a fool once again.

  He stepped out into the open area of the barn and tried to act casual in case another officer happened to notice his wandering. Frank and two other detectives were approaching him, their eyes and flashlight beams focused on the floor as they moved in his direction. John took a deep breath as his mind raced. He had to think of something to say, something that would explain why he was standing in the shadows. He cleared his throat. "It looks like there was a scuffle here," he said pointing at the areas where Emily had been shoved against the wall. "And it looks like something happened over there," he said pointing into the dark corner.

  The light from Frank's flashlight brightened the area of the wall and then traveled to the corner. "It looks like she put up a pretty good fight. You can see part of her blouse caught on a nail there on the wall."

  "I agree, Frank," said the other detective, "I just wish it had been enough."

  "Yeah me too," Frank said, moving the light back to the corner as he started in that direction. John let out a sigh of relief when he saw Frank had taken the bait.

  "You see something?" The other detective questioned.

  "I don't know for sure," he said as he covered the area with the beam of his light. "Look at the way the straw has been moved around. It's not matted down like everywhere else."

  "Looks like someone was looking for something, and in a hurry," John added as he stepped past his partner and started to move the straw with the toe of his shoe.

  "It sure looks like someone was looking for something." Frank said.

  The third detective stepped forward, "And it looks like they were in a hurry."

  John just shook his head. Isn't that exactly what I just said? He thought to himself, wishing that just once his fellow officers would give him the respect he deserved. Every one of them were in diapers when I solved my first case! His heart skipped a beat and he forget about feeling sorry for himself the instant that he felt the toe of his shoe bump against something hidden. In a rush, he dropped to his knees and started searching. He felt the cold object against his fingers as Frank adjusted the beam of his flashlight; the sharp, bright reflection caused John to clench his eyes shut for just an instant. When he opened them again, he saw that Frank had found their prize, moving the remaining straw with the tip of his pencil. "Someone get me an evidence bag!" ordered Frank.

  "Here, take this one," the third detective said, handing the plastic bag over Franks shoulder.

  "Thanks," Frank said, taking the bag and scooping up the shiny lighter. "We need to get this tested for prints and DNA." Frank closed the bag and lifted it up as he adjusted the beam from his flashlight. Squinting his eyes he said, "Looks like we have some initials engraved on it – J.D."

  "Do those initials ring a bell for anyone?" John questioned. He looked each man in the eyes, finally shaking his head in frustration when he didn't get a response.

  "Do you all have everything that you need?" Frank asked the other officers.

  "I think so. It's pretty hard to tell if we have missed anything with it being so late." The second detective offered.

  "Yeah, I think we need to call it a night. We can come back tomorrow and take another look. You two take this," he said, offering them the bagged lighter, "and get it printed ASAP. I'll wait here for the coroner."

  "You sure?" the third detective asked.

  "Yeah, I'm sure. Get out of here before the snow gets any worse."