Chapter Six B: Investigation

“I’m telling you, Jack, I saw something in that church that I can’t explain,” Aaron was saying to his friend as they left Fort Wayne and headed south on I-69. “I can’t tell you exactly how I know right now, but I’m sure there was more going on in there than me looking for help.”

“Well, I could tell you that much,” answered Jack. “There were a lot more voices in there than yours sounding delirious, but we couldn’t identify anything that was being said. We finally decided that it was just an echo that was playing havoc with the reception.”

“I want to go back and investigate,” Aaron insisted.

“Look, it’s bad enough that you convinced me to drive you all the way down to Franklin. But you really aren’t in any condition to go plowing around out in the country looking for clues.”

“We’re almost there. Take the next exit.” Aaron’s command was so sharp and specific that Jack was in the exit lane before he realized that Aaron was maneuvering him out to the old church.

“All right, we’ll drive by, and then get right back on the road again. Just to satisfy your memory of where the accident occurred,” Jack condescended. “Pour me a cup of coffee out of that thermos, will you? It’s colder than hell out today.” Snow had begun to flurry out of the gray skies. It could be a big storm, but they’d run out of it quickly enough as they headed south. It wouldn’t take long to go the eight miles out of the way to get to the church. Aaron directed Jack through Uniondale and out onto County Road N100W.

“The problem is,” Aaron was explaining, “I’m having trouble separating what I dreamt from what I remember. I mean, I had a doozy of a dream last night. But just seeing the place and retracing my steps into the church will help me set the memory straight. Turn at that next corner and head up the hill. Take it easy ‘cause when you come out of the shelter of these trees the wind gusts will rock you.”

Jack approached the top of the hill cautiously and when the windbreak ceased, the wind whistled across the road. It was already tossing up drifts from the snow since the last plow had been through.

“This is the place!” Aaron said excitedly. “I’m sure of it. I hit that telephone pole. At least I think that was the place.” Jack drove slowly past the scene, but there was no sign of the accident of just three days ago. Between the new snow and the wind, the ditch was drifted in erasing all trace of Aaron’s spinning slide down the embankment. “Pull into the church lot up there, but don’t get stuck,” Aaron directed. Jack slid slightly as he made the turn into what had to be called the parking lot. If it were all cleared off, he thought, you might be able to park a dozen cars in front of the little stone building.

Aaron opened his door and gingerly let himself out of the car, testing his footing carefully. One thing he did not want was to slip and fall out here. Jack was too old to be picking him up off the ice. He stood for a moment in front of the church looking at the door. He looked back the direction of where he had gone over the embankment, struggling to relive every step to the door. Even the pain in his ribs was intensifying as he remembered his struggle up the steps.

Aaron stepped forward to open the church door. It was locked. Locked. Why would it be locked now when it was standing wide open Friday night? Unless someone else had been there. He wanted to go around to the other side of the church where he could clearly see large oak trees, but the snow on the side of the building was drifted and he hadn’t worn boots; nor was he in any condition to be struggling through drifts. This was one investigation that might have to wait until spring. He made his way slowly back to the car.

Jack was down the hill a ways near where Aaron said he’d gone off the road. He saw Aaron getting in the car and made his way back. When he slid into the driver’s seat Aaron already had a steaming cup of coffee clutched between his hands sipping. He was shivering. Jack started the car and turned the heat up full blast.

“Are you sure this is the right place, son?” Jack asked cautiously. “There is no sign of an accident down there. And there are little churches scattered all over this county, you know. Maybe you were off a little.”

“Jack, I wasn’t injured when I drove out here. This is the place. That is the church.”

“Well what did you find out?”

“Nothing. The door was locked.”

They drove away from the church and headed back to the highway in silence. Jack needed both hands on the wheel now and focused on getting through the increasing snow-fall. By the time they reached Muncie the snow had dissolved into rain and Jack began to relax a little though he still drove cautiously. Cars and trucks sped by him on the left but he held his speed to fifty-five.

“All right,” Jack said, finally. “Let’s review what you know. You went out there and crashed into a telephone pole. You avoided being decapitated because your little sports car was so old it didn’t have shoulder straps on the seat belt and you laid down flat on the seat as the top was sheared off above you. You suffered a nasty enough blow on the head when you hit an invisible rock.” Jack waved a hand to silence Aaron’s intended interruption. “I say invisible because you can’t see it under the snow drift that is there now. But you struck something hard enough that the blow to your head or the loudness of the impact or something deafened you and you couldn’t hear me answer the phone when you called.

“You struggled up to the church with your briefcase and telephone, found the door unlocked on a Friday night, but it’s locked on a Monday morning. You went into the church. You heard people talking, passed out and woke up with a U.S. Congresswoman kneeling over you calling an ambulance. You saw the bell rope, but you don’t remember getting it down or ringing it, just intending to.” Jack paused for a moment, but Aaron didn’t offer to contradict him. Jack was trying to build a research case and Aaron had watched him too many times to interrupt the process at this stage. He simply nodded his agreement at each point. He’d been over the story with Jack half a dozen times since the accident.

“Damn!” Jack exclaimed. “I wish you’d had a video camera with you. We’d get it on either ‘Incredible but True’ or ‘America’s Funniest Home Videos.’”

“Jack, for cryin’ out loud,” Aaron finally broke in. “Something isn’t right here.”

“I’m agreeing with you,” Jack replied. “What denomination is that church? I don’t remember seeing any sign. Who owns it?”

“I don’t know,” Aaron answered. “I couldn’t find a county listing on it. No active congregation as far as I can tell. The cemetery across the road said Twelve Oaks Cemetery, so I’m sure this is the place that Hattie wanted me to visit. Funny how she tossed that in in the last interview, like she wanted me to have seen what she’s going to tell me next.”

“Yeah. She’s playing you,” Jack answered. “Before long she’s going to tell you that that’s where she married her husband who could cook and made her a cake from scratch.”

“Ow!” Aaron groaned. “Don’t make me laugh. She may be telling me tall tales, but they are original ones. She’s not going to repeat something that anyone else has said. Or vice versa. She’s one of a kind.”

“I believe that, but the point is, we’ve got to find out who owns that church and get inside it, or you are going to keep having doubts. Why don’t you confront the Congresswoman when you see her?” Jack asked.

“Jack, now that I’ve decided to apply for the job she was offering, I don’t want to give her excuses for not hiring me,” Aaron responded. “I’m just going to have to go slow and easy on this one. After all, there’s no money on the table here.”

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