In Hell: When Love Kills A Small Town Mystery

Chapter 9

"The sheets were washed, but that's been a long time ago. May smell musty. Hope not," said Leland. "Don't worry. There's electricity, running water, and a flush toilet."

Leland was pointing to the small building behind the little wooden church that stood in the center of a large clearing. The white siding was gray and dirty, weathered by the sun and storms. A graveyard full of ragged stones trailed down a sloping hill along one side of the church and disappeared into the woods.

"Sounds like all the comforts of home," Lori muttered. "I am grateful, Leland. You didn't have to help me."

"Hey, a toaster oven," she said. "Does it work?"

"I think so. But you don't have any groceries, do you?"

"Where do you guys buy food around here?"

"Oh," he said. "I'll take you if your car's in the garage."

"I'm more trouble than I'm worth."

"No. Not at all. It's my duty to help out."

She looked at him.

"Church and all. Besides, Mother always said to help others when you can."

He looked down at his shoes.

"Well," he said "better see about your wheels. I'll be back as soon as I know something."

"Thanks," Lori said. "For everything."

When Leland had driven away, Lori sat down on the bed. It felt really strange. She couldn't put her finger on it. Maybe it was the shock of having Cash carted off in the middle of breakfast. Maybe it was the heat. She opened the windows to air out the room and to catch any breeze that might decide to blow. It was like a prison cell. In spite of the heat, she shivered.

She didn't bother unpacking her suitcase. The small chest of drawers would never hold her things. She hid her purse under the single twin bed along the wall. Now, there was nothing to do but wait for Leland to bring back news about her car. She decided to go for a walk, explore the cemetery, and clear her head.

She opened the door and looked down the hill. There seemed to be a lot of stones there. And some really old ones. She wandered about for hours, making her way to the tree line.

"Man," she whispered.

The stones continued down into the woods for as far as the eye could see. She wondered vaguely if the poor townspeople had been the victims of some virulent plague. She heard the clear laughter of a small child from deep inside the forest. Her knees grew weak. Scanning between the leaning headstones and the twisted trees, she strained to see where it came from.

Just as she was about to give up, she spotted the silhouette of a bent old man walking with two canes. Beside him was a little girl with a basket. She knelt and plucked something from the ground. Lori called, but both ignored her. They made their way deeper into the dark woods until she lost sight of them.

She was dying for a drink of water. No nearby spring or stream. Maybe there was some water at church. At this point, an outdoor spigot would be a godsend. She made her way up the hill. There was no backdoor to the sanctuary. She walked around to the front of the church.

The front door was not locked.

Entering, Lori was struck by the silence. There was a closed smell to the small building. Three long, vertical arched windows of clear glass adorned two sides. Light filtered in through the tree leaves and into the plain wooden interior of the sanctuary.

Two rows of four simple wooden benches and a center aisle ran to the front of the building. A small wooden lectern stood at the end of the room. Even though it was broiling outside, the inner sanctum was several degrees cooler and peaceful. Lori walked to the front row and sat down. It was so relaxing here.

She nodded off, failing to hear the muffled creak of the front door as it opened. A ray of sunlight shot down the center aisle. A bent, monstrous shadow silently filled the room, draping the lectern at the front of the church in purple.