The Apostasy by Minkinow Ted

Author:Minkinow, Ted [Minkinow, Ted]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 2012-01-30T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 38

Sunday, July 15, 8:55 pm, Warren Anderson’s Home, Vienna, Alabama

Warren felt helpless as a spider in a porcelain sink. No matter where he turned the view looked the same; and no chance for a foothold. The last few days’ leads resulted in illusory progress at best. Just like the spider, he ended up sliding back down to the starting point of nothingness…the bottom…ground zero.

Myra's phone call caught him in the fog of consternation. She sounded upset; and that captured Warren’s full attention.

“What do you mean you can’t contact him?” Warren said. And then, “How long did you say?” Cobwebs evaporated from his mind as she explained that Jolly missed the shift change…overdue by more than an hour and counting.

Not like Jolly to go missing, thought Warren. Unless it’s bowling night. An ember of hope. Warren would chew Jolly’s kiester for blowing off the shift change. He’d tone it down, though…what was the harm of vamoosing in time to meet the wife? And on a Sunday night. But still, Warren thought. Myra’s next words stamped out that hope just like a cockroach that didn’t have any business being there.

Aaron Moseley reported finding Jolly’s vehicle—portable radio in the backseat—parked beside a curb. And it couldn’t be just any curb, no such luck. "This curb," Myra said, "was above Copper Gulch. Aaron wants to know what you want him to do."

"Tell him to stay put…not to leave his squad car or radio contact." Warren thought for a moment and added, "You tell him if he doesn't he'll be looking for another job tomorrow.” Warren added “with my size eleven tattooed on his backside.”

"You got it." Myra hung up without another word.

Warren stumbled into his clothes. He couldn’t see how all this spelled anything but trouble. Inside of fifteen minutes he pulled up beside Moseley's flashing lights and Jolly Roger's empty squad car.

"Get your light…let's take the trail over there and see what we can find."

Moseley obeyed and followed. Though neither of the two said anything about drawing weapons, Warren noticed they both had them out of the holsters.

The flashlight cut through darkness…Warren spotted footprints in the muck.

“Why only one set of tracks?” Warren said.

Moseley gave no answer and in the silence Warren heard his own stomach gurgle. Aaron slipped and splattered as they reached the spot where the trail descended and Warren found himself on the edge of losing balance several times. They almost followed the trail straight through a clearing when luck intervened.

Aaron fell, and in his spasmodic descent he kicked one shoe off beyond range of his flashlight. Warren paused and swept his own beam across the field while Moseley played with his shoestrings. The light bounced off a lump of earth. Warren steadied the flashlight and his heart took the shortcut into his stomach.

"May God have mercy on us," he said.

Moseley looked to the Chief's face then followed the older man’s gape to the crumpled body of Jolly Rogers…lying face down and still.

Warren did not delay the call to Huntsville.

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