Evergreen by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 20

It was late when Tom walked through the door and into his apartment. He found Katie sleeping soundly on the couch and the TV still on, gently hissing while displaying a test image. He threw a blanket over her, covering her from the biting November chill. Every year, without fail, the ghost of old man winter would seep in beneath the sills, under the doorway and through any place that held little resistance to it. Without waking her, Tom took a brief shower and turned in. As he drifted off, he wondered what the next step would be between him and Christine. Would there even be a next step? Sometimes, people go about matters of the heart too hastily, even when both realize the existence of a deep and lasting bond. On some occasions, the hurried race for togetherness can be a tragic mistake. But sometimes, it is this attraction that offers much more than the simple act of passionate release. That was what each of them hoped for. However, any conversation, as brief as it might be, would be put off until both felt secure enough to discuss it comfortably. Emotions can provide for a wonderfully meaningful experience. But they can become a kind of catch twenty-two - something to be enjoyed, yet feared. One might suppose it is human nature to fear what one cannot control. But if one is willing, one can learn to enjoy the ride without being able to steer.

Tom rose early the next morning. He showered again and began the process of making breakfast. The smell of coffee brought Katie to life as she sat up on the couch, turning and twisting the stiffness from her body. A bed is far more comfortable. By having stayed up late, she fell asleep as though her brain has simply shut itself off. Getting to her feet, Katy wandered to the kitchen and sat at the table, awaiting the arrival of the morning’s meal. Hearing her walk in, Tom inquired as to how she’d slept. Katie responded with complaints and ‘I’ll never do that again’.

“You didn’t wait up for me, did you?” Tom asked. Katie was fully aware that her father was capable of managing his own life. But without her mother, he was all she had and felt the need to look out for him - at least, a little.

“No,” she answered. “Of course not.” Tom looked at her skeptically. Having become more alert, Katie asked how his date with Christine went. Tom tried to monitor his response closely, knowing how perceptive Katie was.

“It went okay,” he answered. “We ended up ordering pizza.”

He kept his answers brief, hoping to avoid her, apparently, all-seeing eye. Serving up breakfast, Tom directed the conversation elsewhere.

“So,” he began. “What’s the plan for today?” Katie hemmed and hawed a little at the idea of having to think clearly so early in the morning. “I don’t know,” she answered. “Probably hang out with Bobby again.”

“What about homework?” Tom asked. “Oh, yeah,” she replied. “I guess I’ll be doing that too.” Tom continued redirecting her attention while hiding a slight smile as his back was turned.

“So, how’s Bobby doing anyway?” he continued. “He’s kinda quiet, isn’t he?”

Katie had begun eating her breakfast, speaking between mouthfuls.

“Yeah,” she answered. “But, he’s okay. He’s gotten real interested in the Redfield house for some reason.” Tom’s expression suddenly changed to one of concern as he turned to Katie.

“Didn’t we talk about this already?”

Katie let out a sigh of frustration. For her, it was little more than a point of fascination. Evergreen wasn’t exactly a hub of cultural activity and boardroom always seemed to be the norm.

“Yeah,” she answered. “It’s not safe up there, I remember.”

She grabbed a paper towel and a pen and drawing out the strange symbol from the Redfield’s marriage certificate, showed it to her father.

“Ever seen this before?” she asked.

Tom studied it carefully.

“No,” he answered. “What does it mean?”

“I don’t know,” she replied.

Tom became curious and asked Katie where she had seen it. She explained that she and Bobby had made a visit to the town clerk’s office, looking into the house’s history. With people warning them about it naturally, they became curious. She also explained the source of the symbol. He picked up the paper towel and continued studying Katie’s rendering.

“Can I take this?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” Katie answered. “Is something wrong?”

“No...no,” Tom replied. “I guess I’m a bit curious too.” He quickly comes to the conclusion that the glyph may be related to astrology or the occult.

“What else did you find out?” he asked.

Katie was just finishing her breakfast but paused to continue the conversation.

“Not much, a copy of the deed and a news article.” Tom had become as curious as he was concerned. “You wouldn’t happen to have those things, would you?” he asked.

“No, Bobby has them,” Katie answered. “Is something wrong?”

As a teenager, getting into trouble can sometimes be easier than tripping over one’s feet.

“Uh, no,” he answered. “You’re not in trouble or anything.”

He continued to examine the drawing. But now, he wanted to know more.

“Can I take a look at that article?”

Katie was surprised by her father’s sudden interest in the Redfield house. Normally, he would simply wave her away from going anywhere near it and once again, he did. But, he asked Katie to retrieve the copies from Bobby. He didn’t think the article would provide anything close to an explanation. But, there was someone who might.

Later that morning, Tom knocked on Christine’s door. She was surprised to see him back so soon, but at the same time, became concerned that he may have returned with regrets about their previous evening together.

“Tom, um...hi,” she said nervously. “What’s up?” Tom immediately held up Katie’s drawing with an expression of concern.

“What can you tell me about this?”

Christine studied the image for only a moment, then invited him in. He handed her the drawing as they sat on the couch. She studied it further but was at a loss as to its meaning.

“Where did you get this?” she asked. Tom explained how Katie had discovered it after searching through the town’s archives with Bobby. Christine shook her head slightly, unable to determine the symbol’s meaning.

“This was on the marriage license?” she asked. “Do you have with you?”

“No,” Tom answered. "Katie’s going to get the copies from Bobby today."

Christine was lost for ideas.

“Astrology maybe?” she wondered aloud. “That’s what I was thinking,” Tom replied. “Either that or some cult thing.”

Dropping the paper to her lap, she offered what was only a possibility.

“When my dad was alive,” she began. “He was a member of some organization. They studied some pretty strange ideas. He never talked about it, but it had something to do with the occult, and they used a lot of symbols. He caught me reading one of his books once. It had a picture on the front of a cross with a rose, or something, in the middle. He was so pissed.”

Tom’s curiosity was quickly turning to fascination as he absorbed Christine’s every word.

“So, you think this has something to do with the occult?” Tom asked.

Christine shrugged her shoulders, having no other ideas to consider.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “Maybe.” At that point, Tom thought a different approach might be helpful.

“What about the murder?” he asked. “I know it was fifty years ago, but there has to be a record of it, right?” He had inadvertently reminded himself that with the copy of the Redfield’s marriage license, Katie would also be retrieving the copy of the news article they found during their search.

“Let me get everything else,” he continued. “Maybe we can start putting some pieces together.” He got up and started toward the door. “I should get home. I want to talk to Katie about this a little more. She might even be back from Bobby’s by now.”

Christine followed him to the door.

“Can I keep the drawing?” she asked. “Maybe I can find something online.”

Tom stopped short of opening the door. “Oh, yeah,” he began. “Let me know if you find something.”

As he began to open the door, Christine put a hand on his arm, momentarily pulling his attention away from returning home.

“I think you’re forgetting something,” she said. He found the look in her eyes magnetic as he stepped towards her.

“You know, I think you’re right,” he replied. They wrapped their arms around each other, sharing a brief, but passionate kiss. Taking a small step back, Tom took Christine’s hand.

“By the way,” he began. “I wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed dinner last night. It was really, um...something else.”

He wasn’t good with words, but what he did manage brought a smile to Christine’s face.

“Maybe we can do it again sometime,” she replied. They continued looking into each other’s eyes. “Yeah,” Tom said. “That would be nice.” Caution had been thrown to the wind as they stood holding hands near the front door. The awkwardness had passed, and each knew the direction things were now taking.

“Well, um...I better be getting back,” he continued. “Let me know if you find out anything about whatever that is, okay?”

“Yeah,” Christine replied. “I’ll look online and give you a call if I find something.”

“Okay,” Tom said. “Talk to you later.” With that, they released each other’s hands. Tom walked back to his truck as Christine closed the door. She fanned the heat of arousal from her face as she walked back into the living room. She logged on to her laptop and continued to study the drawing, wondering how to begin her search. At this point, it was just a drawing and without a frame of reference, even a guess would be difficult. She started with the most likely possibility, astrology. Quickly finding the zodiac, she found that it was far different from what was depicted on the drawing. Broadening her search, she found the symbols of every constellation in the sky, both northern and southern hemispheres. But once again, found nothing. She stumbled on a few of the symbols from alchemy and conducting a more thorough search was still left empty-handed.

After little more than an hour, Christine decided that a different approach was needed. She remembered her conversation with Tom when the word’ occult’ came up. Using Google, she typed the word into the search box. It was a very general term, listing millions of results - the Golden Dawn, Rosicrucianism, Alastair Crowley and the American Church of Satan to name a few. Rather than looking through each listing, Christine decided to do an image search under ‘occult symbols’ and it wasn’t long until she found what she was looking for. She wrote down the symbols name and searched Wikipedia for more information. The folklore attached to the symbol went back as far as Jewish mythology and further back to the Babylonian Empire. But, it was the entry of modern folklore that caught her attention. She mumbled some of the words to herself as she read.

“...representation of evil, vanity, and eternal youth. Consort of Lucifer...”

She scrolled down her laptop’s display, continuing to read silently.

“Holy shit!” she said quietly to herself. Although her mind was starting to put the pieces together, there was a lot of information she was lacking. But what information she now had only fueled her curiosity.

Thirty minutes later, Christine had printed out the entry outlining the mythology behind the drawing. She wanted to call him immediately, but it was approaching mid-afternoon and given how tired she had become, Christine knew she was in no condition to hold a lengthy conversation. But, she did realize why Tom had become so concerned. Not knowing what it was Katie might be getting involved in, he was naturally led by his instincts as a parent, as well as a fear of what was, thus far, the unknown. But just as Christine began to prepare her dinner, the phone rang. She knew it could only be one person.

“Hello,” she answered.

It was Tom. Katie had returned with a folder containing the copies of the documents they found at the town clerk’s office, plus the article Bobby found online. “I know it’s getting a bit late in the day,” Tom began. “But is there any way we can get together? You might be interested in some of this.”

Christina agreed, but instead of meeting that evening, she asked if he could come to her office the next day. “Do you think the deputy should know about this?” Tom asked.

It only took a few moments for Christine to come to the conclusion that Chuck didn’t need to know about something that clearly was not a public safety issue. Yet. For now, Chuck would be kept out of the loop.

Monday’s often seemed to arrive with a unique degree of suddenness. Christine went back to her role as Evergreen’s Sheriff and as soon as she walked into her office, she noticed a folder lying on her desk. Chuck was not just a good cop, but very conscientious. She opened the file and glancing over a few reports, found that things have been very quiet over the last two days. People are less inclined to wander out of their homes as the weather becomes colder. She brought in the printed entries from the internet in a sealed envelope and stored it in the locking drawer of her desk. Knowing how perceptive Chuck was, Christine didn’t want to risk it being discovered. At this point, it was nothing more than an interesting, albeit dark, facet of Evergreen’s history.

A few minutes later, Chuck walked in. His cap bore several flakes of sparsely fallen snow. He expected Christine to be there but was still surprised by her presence.

“Hey, Sheriff,” he began. “Have a good weekend off?” Christine looked up from her desk and nodded. “Yeah,” she answered. “It was nice to get some time to myself.”

She felt no obligation to go into any detail regarding her personal life. It was in the way she spoke as well as the lack of detail in her response that made Chuck realize that any further inquiry would be inappropriate, to say the least.

“So,” she continued. “How did the weekend go?” Chuck walked over to the coffeemaker and found that Christine had already made a fresh pot. “Things were pretty quiet, really. But I did make sure that George got to the clinic for the night. He’s a nice old guy. Certainly seems to be a relic around here.”

“Yeah,” Christine replied. “I guess you could say that.” She continued looking over his reports. “So, anything else?” she asked.

Chuck poured a mug of coffee and took his first sip. “That’s it,” he answered. “Honestly, Sheriff...I don’t know why they sent me here. This is a one-horse town if I ever saw one.”

Christine knew he was right and tried to be diplomatic in her response.

“Well, they might have considered that this being a lumbering town, there would be accidents and maybe two officers would be better able to handle that than one.” Chuck sat in a nearby chair and read the doubt written on Christine’s face.

“Do you really believe that?” he asked.

A faint grin came to her face as she briefly shook her head.

“No, I don’t,” she answered.

The day passed uneventfully. Christine asked Chuck to stay behind in the office while she patrolled the town. It seemed that the colder the weather, the quieter the town became. She drove out of town and into the woods where the lumber crew was busy felling trees. Winter would soon be upon them and although the bulk of the season’s snow wouldn’t arrive until January, holding a chainsaw was always more difficult in the cold - gloves or not. However, the lumbering crew was on her weekly patrol list, and she went there only as a matter of course. In order to maintain her professionalism, Christine would not approach Tom and chances were good he would be unaware of her presence anyway, given the overwhelming sound of the chainsaw. Her visit was brief, as were most of her professional duties. Evergreen seemed to be a low maintenance town.

At four thirty, Christine and Chuck met at the office to review the day’s events. Even in a town as small as Evergreen, there were still problems. Usually, in the form of crimes so minor they weren’t worth the time it took to file the paperwork. That day, there had been two domestic incidents and a shoplifting. A fourteen-year-old boy made an unsuccessful attempt to steal a beer from one of the coolers in the market. Joan was on him like a hawk on a mouse. Having seen his expression as he entered the market, she correctly anticipated a problem and wanting to teach the young man a lesson, she prevented him from leaving as she called the Sheriff’s office. In the end, he was taken home and his parents notified. It was also discovered that he had perpetrated the act on a dare from his friends. At least, he was now unlikely to grow up as a criminal.

After the day’s brief review, Christine suggested that Chuck leave early.

“Something wrong, Sheriff?” he asked. “No,” Christine answered. “I just thought you might want to take off early. I’ll lock up.”

Chuck left without hesitation, not stopping to wonder about her request. About thirty minutes later, Tom opened the door. Christine beamed at him as he approached her desk, but she was still on the clock, so there would be no affectionate interaction during their conversation. As long as she was in uniform, she was on the job. However, there was one allowance. Given the private nature of their conversation, Tom was not obligated to address her as ‘Sheriff’.

He brought the folder containing the information he received from Katie. Laying it on Christine’s desk, she also brought out the envelope from the locked drawer of her desk. The chair in front of her desk creaked as Tom said down.

“So,” Tom began. “Find anything?”

With her hands on the desk, Christine interlaced her fingers and looked at him with a teasing grin. “You first,” she replied.

Tom slid his chair up to the front of the desk and opened the folder. He spread the papers out, sorting out those that seemed unimportant.

“Here’s a copy of the deed,” he began. “The kids found an old newspaper article at the town clerk’s office. It’s pretty short. More of a side note than anything else.” Christine read it anyway and found nothing unusual about it.

“Bobby found this article online,” he continued. “Seems there was something about the murder they called ‘unnatural’. What do you suppose that means?” Christine read the article as well.

“That could mean anything,” she answered. She pointed to the remaining document. “Is that the marriage certificate?” she asked.

Tom slid it across the desk.

“Look at the bottom, near the signatures,” Tom replied. The small symbol stood out immediately, but Christine still needed a magnifying glass to see it clearly. “It looks like it was drawn on to the original,” she said. She compared it to Katie’s drawing.

“Yeah, that’s it alright.”

“So,” Tom began. “What do you have?” The tone of his question was somewhat playful as if they were playing a kind of game. Christine removed the contents of the envelope and unfolding the pages, laid them flat.

“Well,” she began. “It took a while, but I found out quite a bit. The symbol is called the dark moon. It has to do with the occult, someone named ‘Lilith’.” Already, Tom was fascinated as he sat, hanging on Christine’s every word.

“Now, her story goes back thousands of years,” she continued. “But in something called Luciferianism, she’s supposed to be the wife of Satan. She’s also referred to as the queen of witches and something called a succubus.”

She flipped through the pages, continuing to summarize the information.

“And apparently, she was really into men. She would seduce them while they slept and the babies would be born as demons. Oh, and she liked to kill babies.” Tom sat back in his chair and applying a bit of humor, said, “Wow, that’s a chick with some issues.” Christine looked up and grinned with amusement. “Yeah,” she began. “She definitely seems to need some professional help.”

Her eyes went back down to the pages, then over to the copy of the marriage certificate.

“But, why is it on the marriage certificate?” Tom lowered his eyes as he searched for an answer. “Do you think she was in some kind of cult?” he asked. Christine looked back up with a dubious expression. “In Evergreen?”

Tom was out of ideas.

“Well, I don’t know,” he replied. “Maybe she was just nuts! I mean, this was a murder-suicide, right?” Christine studied the news articles again. “The newspaper articles don’t mention that.” They both paused a moment as each search themselves for answers. Even a working theory would be a reasonable start.

“Hey,” Tom began. “I got an idea. There have to be autopsy records, right? Is it possible that you could get a hold of those?”

Christine already knew the answer.

“I wish I could,” she answered. “But to do that, you have to have a reason to reopen the case and you have to go through the courts, too. So, I honestly don’t see that happening.”

With his elbow on the armchair, Tom brought a hand to his forehead. He was out of ideas and the only people who still knew anything about the house were those few old enough to remember, and he wasn’t about to go tracking them down.

“So, that’s it?” Tom asked. “We’re never going to know what happened?”

Christine threw her hands up in resignation. “Probably not,” she answered. “But I’d try to get Katie interested in something else. You know how kids can be. Maybe she can steer Bobby away from this too.” Christine said what Tom was already thinking. Anything that appeared to be something of the occult was certainly not healthy for the curious mind of a teenager. They both had seen news stories of young people caught up in cults and strange rituals, and there was rarely a happy ending. The conversation ended with both disappointment and concern. But they accepted the demise of what was, for a little while, and interesting mystery. ‘Interesting’ is a word rarely used in Evergreen. The rusty gears of life simply continue to grind as the townspeople did what people everywhere tend to do. To live their lives, scratching out an insignificant existence somewhere within the infinite confines of a universe that will never so much as notice them.

Tom stood up as he gathered what had now become little more than waste paper. He let out a small sigh of disappointment, then a slight chuckle of amusement. “Shit,” he began. “I need to get a life.” Christine smiled warmly at him.

“Well, at least you know what Katie could have gotten herself into,” she replied.

She stood up and grabbed a set of keys and walking around to the front of her desk put a hand on his arm. “You’re a good dad, Tom,” she continued. “There aren’t many men around like you.”

They walked toward the door as Christine began turning off the lights. The streetlights had turned themselves on. Their halogen beams illuminating a sparsely falling snow. Standing at the door, Tom inquired as to when they might see each other again.

“How about next weekend?” she asked. Tom accepted. Neither of them saw a need to rush their blossoming romance and after the last of the lights was out, they kissed lightly as Christine cracked open the door. Darkness can hide many terrible things, but can just as easily become a shelter for a storm of passion - a private entanglement of emotional connection. The moment passed quickly as each found themselves standing outside the building’s façade. Walking away, they parted company with an affectionate wave.

“See ya’ later,” Christine said quietly. Tom waved with a smile and a wink. But before returning to his truck, he turned back to take in the view and as she got into the police blazer; he was left with one clear impression. There was something truly arousing about a redhead with a gun. But, there was one thing Christine hadn’t said - something that, while it wouldn’t explain the details of the murder, would certainly create more questions. But they were not the only ones looking into the history of the Redfield house. There was one person, driven by an insane degree of quiet curiosity - someone who, otherwise, went almost completely unnoticed.