Dead Daughters by Tim Meyer

Author:Tim Meyer [Meyer, Tim]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fantasy, author, writer, literary, paranormal, Dark, horror, Fiction
Publisher: Silver Shamrock Publishing
Published: 2020-12-21T22:00:00+00:00

Walking through the school halls gave me a strong bout of déjà vu, taking me back to last year when Eve and I had come here to discuss the bullying problem. Not much had changed over the past twelve months, and the four of us walked in the same formation we had then, sans my wife and adding one calm and collective police detective.

“My office is down here,” Weathers said, leading the way.

We made a right turn, and the principal’s office door stood on the left. He waved us on and we filed inside. There were enough chairs for all of us, but I preferred to stand. And apparently, if I wasn’t sitting, no one else was. Everyone gathered around. Only Weathers elected to sit, and he did so behind his massive, cherry mahogany desk.

“Let’s get started, shall we?” he asked, scratching his bald scalp. He was a little older than me, maybe mid-forties, and he’d already lost every single strand of hair. I thanked my parents, rest their souls, for their good genes. “Mr. Lowery, Detective Harper here tells me you’ve spotted a man on the premises who seems to be… following you?”

“Yeah, I guess that’s one way of putting it.” I didn’t know how much he and the guidance counselor knew or were allowed to know. I deferred to Harper to take the lead.

“I told them,” Harper confirmed, nodding. “They know everything.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. I thought it’d feel weird having others, borderline strangers, knowing about our troubles, but honestly, it was refreshing. It had also made the following conversation much easier.

“Yeah, there’s this fucking weirdo who was hanging out in the parking lot last week,” I said, the words spilling out of my mouth before I could filter them.

“Mr. Lowery,” Weathers said, pumping an open palm at me, as if instructing me to settle down, “mind you we aren’t in the direct presence of children, I’m still asking you to refrain from using foul language.”

I caught Harper smirking.

“Okay, yeah,” I said, leaning back against the wall. “Sorry. Got a little carried away. Anyway, I saw the guy in a van. White. No markings on it, but it looked like a work van. Then I saw the creepy prick—er, um, guy, yes, guy walking his dog in the field across the street. Two times. I stopped and talked to him the second time.”

“What did he say?” Harper asked, suddenly interested. I guess I had forgotten to give him the details of that particular interaction.

“Nothing of interest. Claimed he was only dropping his granddaughter off, which didn’t really make a whole lot of sense, considering he was, in fact, parked. He said his granddaughter’s name, but I forgot. I was a little frazzled at the time. Not that it matters much. I’m sure he was lying.”

Harper jotted notes on his pad, notes I wasn’t sure he’d ever referred back to.

“What else did the man say?” Janet Meadows asked, the squeakiness in her voice lost, replaced by this scratchy, I-haven’t-had-my-first-cup-of-coffee-yet rendition.

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