Jim's haunted past

Chapter 14: Vinnie's father

Jim arrived home to find Sally hunched over the kitchen table, piles of paperwork and aging yearbooks spread before her. She glanced up, her eyes alight with discovery.

"Jim, look what I found digging into Vinnie's past," she said, shuffling through some papers excitedly. "His father Carson North had quite the reputation as a violent drunk. Assault charges, suspected arson..."

Jim's pulse quickened as he sat down across from her. "Violent doesn't surprise me. But how does this help us?"

"I'm getting there," Sally replied. "I started asking around to some of Vinnie's old classmates, and they said Carson had some creepy occult fixations."

She placed an old yearbook open to Carson's portrait, tapping the brooding face. "Just look at those eyes. Soulless. People say he was obsessed with communing with spirits, prolonging life. Right up until his own mysterious death in 1960."

The gears turned rapidly in Jim's mind. "So you think Vinnie's dear old dad might have discovered some ritual to resurrect him and the others? As a really twisted final gift from beyond the grave?"

Sally nodded, her expression grave. "It makes sense doesn't it? Carson had the means and motivations. And the timing lines up."

Restless, Jim rose to pace as he processed this breakthrough. "Assuming you're right, what does it mean for stopping them permanently? How do we undo dark magic that powerful?"

Coming around the table, Sally grasped his hands. "One step at a time. This gives us a target - we find Carson North's spellbook, or whatever he used. The source of the power."

Jim pulled her into a fierce embrace. "You're amazing, you know that? We're going to crack this, finally end this nightmare." He pressed his lips to her golden curls, hope rekindling for the first time in years.

Outside, dusk settled over Stratford like a shroud. But Jim's spirit felt illuminated by progress. They would keep digging into Carson's past, uncovering whatever macabre secrets lurked there. As a team, he and Sally were unstoppable. The greasers' days walking the earth were numbered. Jim pulled the sedan to the curb across from a dingy auto shop, its windows clouded with years of grime. A weathered sign above the garage read "North's Repairs" in faded lettering.

According to their research, this had been Carson North's business before his supposed death over a decade ago. If they were lucky, its current occupant could provide information about the deceased man and his occult fixations.

"Doesn't look like it's been open in years," Sally remarked, eyeing the dilapidated building doubtfully.

Jim's gaze lingered on the dark upstairs windows. "Maybe not officially. But I'd bet good money we find Carson's still dwelling here as some kind of undead hermit."

They crossed the trash-strewn lot cautiously and tried the locked door. At Jim's forceful knock, shuffling footsteps approached followed by the scrape of a deadbolt. The door creaked open to reveal a hunched figure blinking against the harsh daylight.

Jim's breath caught—it was unmistakably Carson North. Though his hair had grayed and frame withered, the chilling pale eyes peering from the gloom were exactly like his son's.

Recovering quickly, Jim adopted a breezy tone. "Mr. North I presume? Sorry to bother you, we're with Stratford Gas Company checking on outdated pipes in the area."

Carson's hollow gaze flicked over them. "Ain't got no gas lines. Now buzz off."

He moved to slam the door but Jim wedged his foot in just in time. He dropped the pretense, meeting Carson's eyes directly. "I think you know exactly why we're here. Can we talk inside?"

A tense beat passed. Then Carson's shoulders slumped in resignation and he shuffled back inside. Jim and Sally followed warily to a cluttered office space that clearly served as the man's living quarters.

"You're him, ain't you?" Carson rasped, lighting a cigarette with trembling hands. "The brother of the kid my Vinnie..."

"Killed?" Jim finished coldly. "Yes, along with my own students more recently." He crossed his arms. "I think you know something about his resurrection."

Carson averted his eyes and took a long drag. "What's dead should stay dead. I learned that too late." His voice held a haunted edge. Jim studied Carson's haggard face intently. "If you've got something to confess, I suggest you do it soon, old man. More blood's on your hands the longer you stay silent."

Carson closed his eyes, exhaling a long plume of smoke. When he met Jim's gaze again, defeat shone in his watery eyes.

"When they executed my Vinnie, part of me died too," he rasped. "I wasn't no saint, but he was still my boy." Carson stubbed out his cigarette, hands trembling.

"I got deep into some...strange hobbies trying to cope. Stuff I'm ashamed of now. But back then, it felt like power." His voice dropped to a haunted whisper.

Jim's pulse quickened. They were on the cusp of confirmation. "What kind of power?" he pressed.

Carson rubbed a bony hand over his face. "Ways to open doors that should stay shut. Bring back what Death took, just for a while." He shook his head bitterly. "I was a damned fool."

Sally spoke up softly. "You brought your son and his friends back, didn't you? As revenge?"

Carson met her eyes with his bloodshot ones. "For one night, during the full moon when the veil thins. I thought seeing justice done would give me peace. But those boys came back...wrong. Twisted."

He looked at Jim beseechingly. "I ended the ritual soon as I saw the evil. But it lingers on in them. I'm sorry for the pain I caused trying to fix my own."

Jim processed this admission, bile rising in his throat. At last the truth was laid bare. All the death and anguish just because a broken man couldn't let go.

"How do we end it?" Jim asked coldly. "How do we send them back for good?"

Carson rose on trembling legs and retrieved a worn leather journal from his cluttered desk. "Burn this. It's the key." He held it out with shaking fingers.

Jim accepted the book, feeling the familiar weight of long-overdue justice. He tucked the journal securely into his coat. Their wretched saga was finally nearing its end. Chief Pappas surveyed the squalid auto shop, hands on his belt as Carson North was led out in handcuffs between two officers. His bushy eyebrows rose as he spotted Jim and Sally waiting nearby.

"Got an anonymous tip this fellow was connected to the murders," Pappas said, gesturing at Carson. "Imagine my surprise when we find him, very alive and looking awfully guilty."

Jim stepped forward. "His confession proves I was telling the truth, Chief. Carson resurrected the greaser killers using dark magic as an act of revenge."

Pappas scrubbed a hand over his jaw, looking chagrined. "I owe you an apology for not believing your...unorthodox theory. But this is concrete evidence." He eyed Carson sternly.

"He's confessed everything," Jim affirmed. "The ritual, the murders, all of it. Your men can get the full story from him directly."

With a nod to the officers, Pappas said gruffly, "Get him down to the station and book him on conspiracy charges for now." He turned back to Jim. "And we'll go over ways to protect any other potential victims."

As Carson was led away, he met Jim's gaze pleadingly. "You'll put a stop to those monsters for good, won't you?" he rasped. "Don't let my sins fester."

Jim's mouth tightened, old wounds still fresh. "It ends tonight, one way or another."

He refused to betray a shred of sympathy. If he could help it, Carson would face the full extent of the law's punishment. The man was getting off easy compared to the suffering he had enabled.

After Pappas departed to oversee Carson's processing, Sally touched Jim's arm gently. "It's almost over," she said softly. "I know it won't restore what was lost, but at least justice is being served now."

Jim nodded, wrapping an arm around her slender shoulders as they headed home. Sally was right - this resolution couldn't resurrect the dead or erase the pain carved into his soul. But finally banishing the greasers would allow new life to take root from the scorched earth they left behind. That would have to be enough.