The Rockland Horror ('The Rockland Horror' saga Book 1) by Edward Trimnell

Author:Edward Trimnell [Trimnell, Edward]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-02-09T22:00:00+00:00

49

In the Rockland jailhouse, Bill and Earl were discussing the cases of the missing children.

It was plain to Bill that Earl was holding out hope for happy endings. More than once, Earl had said, “when we get the children back safely to their parents”—or something along those lines—as if such happy endings were inevitable.

Bill was hoping for happy endings as well. But there was a difference between hopes and realistic expectations. At a young age, Bill had seen death up-close, on the battlefield during the War of the Rebellion. Much as he felt compelled to search for the child-snatchers, Bill also felt obligated to disabuse his deputy of any vain hopes.

“We have to assume the worst about the children that were taken, Earl. That is, we have to assume that they won’t be found alive.”

“Really? What makes you so certain?”

“It is a very disturbing subject,” Bill said, “that plumbs the depths of human depravity. No one steals a child for profit, like they steal horses or cattle. You can’t sell a child on the open market, after all. Those who take children do so for dark purposes that are best not spoken of aloud.”

Earl shook his head, clearly unwilling to fully contemplate this concept. A moment later he spoke on a different topic.

“Well,” he said, “I’ve noticed something.”

“And what would that be, Earl?”

“I’ve noticed that a lot of strange things have been happening in Rockland since Theodore Briggs came here, and especially of late.”

“I understand where you’re coming from,” Bill said. “I met Mr. Briggs myself at a recent GAR meeting. And let me tell you: he’s a strange bird. But eccentricity and evil are two different things. A lawman, moreover, must maintain his objectivity.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Earl agreed.

“Besides,” Bill said. “It wouldn’t make sense: a man like Briggs involved in the kidnapping of children.”

They both paused, pondering that. Then Earl asked the obvious. “Well, Constable, what kind of man would be involved in the kidnapping of children?”

“A man who has lost all his humanity, to be sure. But we have some leads. I rode out this morning and talked to some folks around the Weatherby farm. Not the Weatherbys themselves, mind you, but another family, the Taylors. They said that they did see a man riding that night not far from the Weatherbys’ farm. A man wearing dark clothes.”

“Mr. Briggs always dresses in black!” Earl said.

“Hold on,” Bill cautioned. “A lot of men wear dark clothing. The town is on alert, and you and I won’t rest until the child-snatcher is caught. We’ll put an end to this, you’ll see. But we can’t go jumping to hasty conclusions about anyone.”

Bill could see, however, that his deputy constable was less than convinced. Am I convinced myself? Bill wondered. Or am I merely hoping for the best?

Just then, there was the sound of the front door of the jailhouse opening. Then footsteps.

A man of about forty years walked in. He was dressed formally, but his clothes were simultaneously shabby. This is a man who has spent a lot of time on the road, Bill observed to himself.

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