Van Dyne's Vampires by CW Hawes

Author:CW Hawes [Hawes, CW]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: CW Hawes
Published: 2018-10-22T22:00:00+00:00

***

Shortly before noon, the SUV pulled into Pine Bluff. Mostyn put away his tablet and looked at the cluster of buildings making up the tiny unincorporated hamlet.

“Where do you want to park, Boss?”

“Good question, Jones,” Mostyn replied.

Ramsey, looking up from his phone, said, “This is a town?”

“Park by the store,” Mostyn said.

Jones complied, and, when he shut off the engine, everyone got out.

“Is this it?” Dotty asked.

“Probably,” Baker said. “You have your convenience store, and a couple of gas pumps. A laundromat, three bars, two churches, and a bunch of houses.”

Ramsey let out a laugh. “Houses? These are trailers.”

“Mobile or prefab homes,” Baker corrected. “And don’t be so snooty. Do you live in a mansion?”

Ramsey gave Baker the finger and went back to his phone.

Baker, on the other hand, started taking pictures of the place.

Amazement and wonder was all over Helene’s face. “This is so—”

Dottie interrupted, “Yeah, we know. Exciting.” She turned to Mostyn. “Start by asking in the store?”

“Sure, Dot. You and Helene. Jones, I want you and Ramsey to take the bars. Penn, Gerstner, you guys see if there’s anyone at the Methodist church. Baker and I will check out the Baptist church. Meet back here when you’re done.”

Mostyn and Baker started for the church.

“So, Mostyn,” Baker began, “any idea why Bardon shuffled us off to this little bit of nowhere?”

“Nope. No idea whatsoever.”

“After all, wouldn’t there be more to find back in New Jersey?”

“One would think so, Willie Lee. One would think so.”

“It’s like that old hymn we sang when I was a kid. Bardon moves in mysterious ways, his wonders to perform.”

Mostyn let out a laugh. “Isn’t it supposed to be ‘God’?”

A smile tugged at the corners of Baker’s mouth. “Huh. I guess it is.”

Mostyn noticed the sign in front of the church. Christopher Hayes, Pastor, was in fairly big letters. Underneath the pastor’s name were the times for Sunday School and worship. Below that was “Going About As A Lion.” Mostyn guessed that was the sermon title.

The two men climbed the four steps to the porch and tried the double doors. The latch moved and the door on the left opened when Mostyn gave it a push. He and Baker entered, the latter calling out, “Hello! Anybody here?”

There was no narthex. The doors opened directly into the semicircular auditorium. The pulpit was on a bit of a thrust stage, allowing the preacher to be partially surrounded by his audience.

“I like this layout,” Baker said. “Kind of puts the pastor in the middle of his flock. Instead of the usual, he’s up there, we’re back here, and he preaches at us.”

“Huh. Hadn’t thought of that. Got a point, there, Willie Lee.”

Again they called out, “Hello”, and asked if anyone was around.

A door opened to the side of the pulpit area, where the organ was located. A man of average height and looks, much like Mostyn, emerged.

“Hello. How can I help you?”

“Are you the pastor?” Mostyn asked. “Reverend Hayes?”

“I’m Christopher Hayes. How may I help you gentlemen?”

Mostyn and Baker walked up to him and shook hands.

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