Beginning of the End - Chapter 5

Chapter Five

North of Bowling Green, Ky, USA



The chains were still hanging on the trees but they were coated with dried blood and had heavy indentations on several links, like someone had taken a bolt cutter to them but cut only half way through before giving up. A small pool of dried blood was found at the base of each tree and a ragged trail of blood, disturbed leaves, and broken twigs lead off down the incline towards the stream. The place smelled of dried blood, rotted vegetation and something pungent and unusual.

“I’m telling you we tied them to these trees for punishment.” A tall skinny man with Einstein like hair, bulging eyes, and bad skin addressed them in a whining tone. “We do it all the time to teach patience and respect. We normally let them go the next day when they have served their penance. Some forest animal must have gotten to them last night.”

His name was Abraham Moses and he was the pastor of the Church of Holy Redemption. Although the church was lawfully recorded in the County Chancery Clerk’s office, it was still a fly-by-night cult and practiced some very strange forms of pseudo-Christianity. The FBI believed that Moses was a phony, and an opportunist, and he was closely watched because of his prior felony records. His real name was Albert Byron Decker, a con-artist and petty criminal with a lengthy history of fraud and theft.

The tall FBI Agent carefully studied Moses’ angry face. “We received a call from a family member who said their daughter was being held in your camp against her will.”

“You met all of my congregation this morning,” Moses blurted. “Each of them told you to your face that they were here because God led them to me. They are free to leave any time they choose.”

“What about these two?” The Agent pointed to the grisly remains of the chains hanging on the pine trees.

“They were among my first recruits,” Moses snorted. “Devout, full of the Holy Spirit, and highly respected members of the church.’

“That’s why you chained them to these trees and left them for the animals?”

“They were atoning for their transgressions. It was a penance they asked for.”

The Agent shook his head and looked at the bright morning sky. His name was Huck and he was a senior member of the FBI and in charge of the field office in Louisville, Kentucky. At birth, he was given the name,  Huckleberry Langhorn la Roche, by a French father who was in love with Mark Twain’s writing. Naturally, with a name like Huckleberry, he had been teased most of his life, especially when he entered the military.

Huck was a graduate of the Naval Academy at Annapolis, spent six years in the Navy SEALS, two years with the National Security Agency, and joined the FBI four years ago on a fast track to management status. He was six feet three inches, two hundred twenty pounds, short sandy hair, inquisitive blue eyes, and, in his mid thirties still possessed a thirty-inch waist. Although he had a quiet disposition and spoke softly, you would not want to make him angry.

Huck looked at his partner who was slowly walking up the trail from the campsite the church used. He was glancing to the sides of the trail for discarded weapons, signs of struggle, and any indication that the missing people had put up a fight. It would have taken some serious tools to dismember the bodies and cart them off.

As he approached he shook his head in the negative. He was the latest addition to the field office and hand picked by Huck as his partner. His name was Alois Pferd, the son of recent German immigrants. Huck didn’t know what Alois meant but the dictionary told him that Pferd in German meant horse, so he called him Horse. Actually, he had given the new agent a choice, either Lois or Horse. The strangest thing about Horse was not his name, but his size. The man was six foot nine inches and weighed in at 280 pounds. He even made the actor, Dolf Lundgren look small in comparison. Horse also possessed a genius IQ.

“Have the CSI people reported in?” Huck asked as Horse looked down at the smug minister.

“Ten minutes. They are on Old Richards Road near the cutoff trail leading to the camp now.”

There were forty-eight members of Moses’ congregation, forty-six minus the two missing and presumed dead. They would have to interview each member separately and get their independent stories on what had happened to the missing members. Huck chose two locations far enough apart so they would not interfere with each other, then split the congregation in half. Half to Horse and half to him. He had already grilled Pastor Moses for over an hour and heard his story half a dozen times, so there was no need to hear it again.

Huck saved the daughter for last.

“You are Elizabeth Mallone?” he asked a mousy haired girl barely out of her teens.

“Beth. Call me Beth.”

“Your parents lodged a complaint with my office yesterday,” Huck continued. “They insist that you were kidnapped and are being held in this camp against your will.”

“I am with Reverend Moses of my own free will! You have no right to make me leave.”

“Are you aware that Abraham Moses is not his given name, that his legal name is, Albert Byron Decker, and he is a con-artist with a lengthy record of fraud and theft.”

“The Lord has called him!” Beth almost shouted back. “He has told us of his past and that God asked him to repent and to teach his holy word. I was studying with him all night last night.”

Huck looked into the angry eyes of the fiery young girl and instantly knew that she had been thoroughly brainwashed. Moses had duped her as easy as a used car salesman and she loved every word of it. There was no way to reason with someone in her state of mind. She was legally of an age to make her own decisions and her own mistakes and he did not have the authority to force her to go home.”

“I ask you to be careful,” Huck smiled. “Not everything is always as it seems.” He pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to her. “My cell phone number is on this card, call me anytime you need to talk or for any reason at all.”

The girl accepted the card and nodded her head in thanks.

At least she didn’t throw it back in my face, Huck thought, standing to stretch his sore legs. He noticed that Horse had also completed his interviews and was waiting near the van that the CSI Team had arrived in earlier.

Horse shook his head. “Stories are all the same. They insist the two were tied to the pine trees around eight last night and that they asked for it. Self penance, they all agreed.”

“Yeah, and Betty Boop over there said she snuggled with holy Moses all night,” Huck replied. “Either they’re all lying and performed a fruit-cake ritual of some kind, or the wild animals actually killed them like they say.”

“Would take more than one bear to tear them apart and drag both off,” Horse suggested. “You would think that in the dark they’d miss a body part here and there.”

“Forensics guys have anything yet?”

“They’re out following the drag trail. It ended at the edge of the stream and they’re looking for a spot on the other side where it left the stream. Found nothing yet.”

“Any word on that awful smell?”

Horse smiled. “Kind of smells like a vat of aged urine. I had a friend who tanned his hides in the urine he saved up, said he learned it from the Indians.  Smelled a lot like rotten ammonia if you ask me.”

“It does have that ammonia smell, but different.” Huck turned to see a county sheriff’s car pull up behind the CSI van.

A short man wearing a two-tone brown uniform and similar colored baseball cap, got out of the car and walked in their direction. The man was grinning from ear to ear.

“You the two feds?” he asked, as if it wasn’t readily apparent.

“Agent la Roche and Agent Pferd,” Huck answered, watching the Barney Fife look alike.

“Got a call from the University over in Bowling Green. Security there says they’re missing several students and they’re assuming they were kidnapped. They want you guys to drop by as soon as you can.”

“They clear it with my office in Louisville?” Huck asked.

“They cleared it with the governor,” the deputy returned. “Seems like the governor’s daughter is one of the missing kids.”

Huck nodded in reply.

“Something going on with these holy rollers?” the deputy continued, nodding towards the small group standing in the clearing not far away. “Sheriff told us to keep an eye on those people.”

Huck knew the deputy was fishing for information so he could spread it around back at the station like a know it all.

“Federal investigation,” Huck returned, then continued in a dismissive tone. “Tell your people we’ll drop by the University as soon as we wrap it up here.”

The deputy nodded and ambled back towards his squad car. Huck noticed he used the car radio to make a call but he did not appear to be in any hurry to leave. He sat with his arm propped on door window picking his nose.

Half an hour later the crime scene investigators returned carrying their sample bags with them. Huck noticed they had no body bags so evidently the missing bodies were still missing.

“Anything of value we can use?” Huck asked the team leader, a man in his mid fifties with an enormous gut.

The man scratched his head before replying. “Found nothing of significance. We have samples of the blood and surrounding area. No animal hairs or footprints, and no idea what kind of animal may have done the deed. We have the chains the nuts used to tie them to the trees and we’ll run them through the grinder. As it stands right now, the only proof we have that a crime was committed is the word of those people and the traces of alleged human blood on the trees. No ones to say they didn’t kill a chicken and sprinkle its blood on the chains in some loony ceremony. Sometimes cults like this will do weird things to get national attention.”

“We have a request to drop by the University in Bowling Green, an alleged kidnapping case. I’d appreciate it if you and your team could stand by before you head back in.”

The heavy-set man nodded his head. “We’ll stop for lunch in town, take our time. Call us if you find anything interesting.”

Huck walked over to the tall minister. He wished he could grab the man by his chicken neck and make him squawk out that he was pulling one over on these people but, he couldn’t do that. It was not a federal crime to hoodwink idiots into believing pigs could fly or cows fart fire.

“I have no evidence that any crime was committed here,” he stated. “And, according to Ms. Mallone she is here of her own free will. I will keep my eye on you, Byron!”

“What about our missing members?” Moses yelled back. “Aren’t you going to find them?”

“I intend to have the local sheriff send out a tracking team. We need someone here who knows the area and the terrain. A set of hunting dogs might find traces of them.”

Huck turned and signaled for Horse to follow him. He had noted the genuine concern in the eyes of the pretend minister. Perhaps, he was telling the truth for a change.

Miracles do happen!