Clear Water: The Deputy

Andrew Holt didn’t take calls before 5AM.

But, when he saw Ellie Elridge’s name on his phone, he picked it up on the first ring.

“Ellie?” Andrew set his coffee down.

“He’s gone,” a hysterical voice peeled from the other side of the phone.

“Who?”

“My husband,” she said, thin and high.

“Reverend William?”

“Yes, and I don’t know,” she went on, “He’s been gone for—I don’t know—three days—,”

“Three days?”Andrew whispered. A cold stone weight dropped into the pit of his guts.

“I thought you said you can’t file one… until its been three—,”

“Ellie, that’s not always true.”

“We’d had an argument. Slammed the door and everything. He yelled—”

“He yelled?” Andrew interrupted, “Ellie this doesn’t sound the Reverend at all.”

”—I just thought he’d be back, you know. After the first day I thought me must really be made. Then the second I started to worry. But, he hasn’t come home, he hasn’t called… Oh God, Andrew,” her thin voice snapped, “I don’t know what to do, what do I do?”

Andrew dropped his boots at his feet.

“I’m on my way,” he hung up, “Hey Siri, call Reverend Bill.”

Sure, calling Reverend William

He was immediately sent to voicemail. He called again. Voicemail. He repeated the process one more time.

Two, cold stones made friction within him. They were heavy and made his insides boggy, like a boot with mud-water in it. Andrew was in the old sheriff’s Bronco five minutes later, speeding to the other side of the valley in the dark of the early morning.

He dialed the sheriff.

“Shift doesn’t start for another hour and a half, Holt.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m headed over to the Elridges’. Ellie called. The reverend’s been missing for three days.”

“Three days?” Liam’s eye popped open.

“I don’t know if they’ve spent three days apart since they were teenagers. He’s not that kind of guy.”

“Wait, this is your preacher you’re talking about?”

“Right.”

“The fat one.”

“He’s big,” Andrew conceded.

“Holt, Susan in the office is big. Tamara at True Value is big. The Reverend looks like he invented the potluck.”

Andrew chuckled even though he didn’t like making fun of the man.

“He’s the one that got assaulted last Sunday,” Liam went on, “by the John Doe we got waiting for county.”

“Same one.”

There was silence.

“That’s odd. You want me to head over there?”

“No, let me see what’s what. I’ll keep you updated. Just wanted you to know, case I’m late for the arrest this morning.””

“Oh, I got you,” Liam yawned, “Well, keep me updated. I’ll get up and be ready if you need anything.”

“10-4”

Andrew hung the phone up.

Three this month. It wasn’t just unusual, it was strange.

He stared into the dark of the early morning as he drove. The valley was a lake of shadow in misty obsidian. Firefly porch lights twinkled trivially in the distance. His yellow high beams reached out just enough for him to see the next turn. Never more. The whole world was dark, but even then at that blackest hour the silhouette of the mountain lurched forward out of the night.

Andrew ran through the names out loud, “Byron Grey, Rosa Sanchez, and William Elridge,” even though William might not actually be on the list.

People didn’t go missing in small places like Clear Water and when they did it wasn’t locals; nature enthusiasts mostly—out for a mountain jog. Park services would find the bits the cougar didn’t eat a week or so after.

But, this was different. He knew Amanda Grey. He’d grown up with her. Arrested her ex on an abuse charge—everyone knew Spencer was a piece of shit.

He didn’t know Rosa, aside from what her aunt had told him in the report. Andrew knew the kid she’d last been seen with. He’d put the kids mom away for neglect. He’d a few run-ins with the youth for selling weed at the park.

“That’s probably how those two are connected,” he said the thought out loud. Rosa’s folks were most likely growers. He knew everyone on the hill, those he didn’t were new comers. Nobody came to mountain to be away from the city anymore. They came for that pot of gold

“Or, that pot of green,” he said to himself.

He thought about his heartache—Reverend William.

The man had brought him to faith. Helped him with Megan. The old guilt was there. The relapse, the divorce. Andrew didn’t know what he would have done if it hadn’t been for the old preacher.

Andrew’s eyes hung at the edge where his headlights ended and the dark began. The old lights had a pitiful reach. It was impossible to see beyond them. More than once he’d tried to convince the sheriff to upgrade them.

Andrew came to Welford and turned off onto the dirt road. It was a dusty two miles up to Bautista. The road was straight and rumbling. It strode under the pines until it came to an open place where you could see the whole of Clear Water at the foot of the mountain. If he took a left at the fork it took him to a nice white house and half a life of memories.

He went a right.

The sun had barely begun to kiss the sky when he came to the Elrigde’s place on Bautista. They had a clean, gravel drive that wound up and through a brief wood and opened up to a two story log cabin. In the 90’s, it would have been the kind of cabin featured in a magazine, but now it was just an out-dated up-kept place.

The lawn and hedges were cut and trimmed with an uncommon precision. You couldn’t find a single tree limb or fallen branch in front and this far into the wood that was only the result of extreme intentionality. There was a tipped over trashcan off to the right of the garage, it had been filled with pinecones. They splayed out in a mess. An old tattered American flag hung just beneath a flickering light on the garage. The whites and reds had come apart from one another and stirred restless like ribbons in the wind.

Ellie came out soon as Andrew pulled up.

She was slender and beautiful for a woman in her 60’s. In the twenty years Andrew had known her, he’d never seen her dressed down. The woman was always ready to meet the president. Short, silver hair hung like a gown wisping about her shoulders. Ellie’s eyes were always big beautiful pieces of the sky and the only wrinkles she had were the well worn creases where her lips met her cheeks in her wondrously welcoming smile. Everyone thought William had won the lottery with the woman.

She came out in the early morning dark wearing pajama sweats, looking worse than she’d sounded on the phone. Her dishelved hair was a wild, sleepless mess. Dark round, hollows for eyes with too few tears left to them. She looked every bit a haunted thing and older than Andrew had ever seen her.

Ellie was walked to his door before he was even out of the vehicle and ran a hand through her hair.

Andrew got out.

The deputy took the woman in his arms. Ellie shattered like glass dropped carelessly. A thousand-million pieces shooting off like wild stars. She cried for a long time but he held her. Even when the crying didn’t end.

It felt strange, but he didn’t let go.

The tears ran through her until the riverbed dried up. Ellie pulled away and wiped her cheeks. She shook her head.

“I’m sorry,” she wiped her nose on her sleeve , “I don’t even know where to start Andrew.”

“Should we go inside?”

A nod. Silent assent up the porch stairs. Ellies footfalls ponderous, exhausted. Like she carried some exceeding burden. Like the steps to that porch were the fiery heights of mount doom. The welcome mat was kicked off to the side uncharacteristically. Her welcome wreath for their door lay on the porch. Andrew picked it up and hung it where it circled their cross. It was hung from a single nail and wrong side up. Andrew hung the wreath, turned the cross round, and placed the welcome mat where it should have been.

He followed her through the front door. A blanket was bundled on the coach near a pillow. A bottle of Niquil and a bottle of melatonin were on the end table under the lamp. An old pie tin with one crumbled piece of apple pie sat in crumbs atop a bible.

TBN was on in the background.

The preacher was talking about seeds and gifts. They went through the hall, past the family photos, and the room with all Ellie’s baking ribbons.

Then they were in the kitchen.

“Coffee?”

“Sure,” said Andrew.

She looked through three cabinets before she found the filters. Four more to find the Folger’s barrel that was already on the counter.

“Hey,” Andrew said, placing a hand on her back, “Let me.”

He grabbed the filters and the Folgers and put them in the coffee maker. He filled the pot with water and started it.

Andrew didn’t say a thing.

“Forty years with the man—never a dalliance,” her lip quivered. “Never. And I know, everyone always smirks when I say that, but he was the real deal, Andrew.”

She didn’t have to convince him. He already knew that—but sometimes people could surprise you being one way for so long and given the right kind of pressure or incentive and they could do things you’d never expect. Andrew knew that better than most.

“The man and I don’t keep secrets. Every single day when he gets home he hands me his phone; says it’s easier than telling me every little thing that goes on. I look through all his emails and texts.”

“His search history?”

She looked like he’d just surprised her, “No, I hadn’t thought of that. I wouldn’t even know how.”

Andrew didn’t want to think of his preacher as anything other than the reverend. There was discomfort knowing he would have to.

“So what happened.”

“A couple days ago an unnamed ‘random’ number starts sending him the most…” the tears broke her words.

“They were the dirtiest pictures…” she whispered and shook her head in disgust, “and they were all taken in our church office and our home.”

A lump of fermenting bile spoiled his hunger.

“She was here Andrew,” she covered her mouth as her voice hitched with emotion, her lips crinkling in disgust, “And she was…”

“What?”

She shook her head. Even in shadows he could see the red shame and its taloned fingers about her cheeks.

“In my bed,” she forced the words, through clenched teeth, tears, and a long wormy snot from nose, “in my underwear.”

She hawked a savage cry, like a beast fatally wounded. The hoarse sound bent her over. She caught the snot in bowel of her hands. She spun quickly away, muffling a sound of embarrassment. She made a mess of cleaning herself. Andrew hurried to find a clean hand towel and warmed it was hot water and handed it over her shoulder.

Ellie turned, her eyes laden with something entirely unkind. It was the first time he could remember seeing anything but sweetness in the woman. There was flavor to it. The kind his soul could taste.

“He was in both places when the photos were taken,” she snarled, “He probably took them. He denies it. I blocked the number, but then they’d come from other number. She started sending them to me.”

“I asked him who it was and he said he didn’t know. At first believed him, forty years builds that kind of trust you know. He’s not the kind of guy to go looking for that kind of thing. But, the way she talked or texted, it was like she knew she and him had history or something—so I knew he must be telling me a lie.

“He was vehement that he wasn’t. That night he called out woman’s name. It woke me straight up. Next morning he and I had a terrible fight about it—we’ve never fought like that before.”

”What name?“

“Angie? Angel. Annie. Something like that.”

”What happened next?”

“He was gone all day. When he got him we started where we stopped. First time in forty years we slept in different place.”

“Oh, Andrew,” he could see the shame on her now.

The woman collapsed. It was a flash flood of tears on desert cheeks.

My god, Andrew thought, what is going on?

He crouched down and placed a tender hand on her back. It was a long time before she was consollable again.

“If it gets out,” she just shook her head, “it’s over, he’s over, I’m over, the church is over. There’s no coming back from this. The photos are… they’re so bad…”

“Is he in any of them?”

She shook her head.

“Did she demand anything?”

“The house. She wants the house. For nothing.”

“Blackmail,” he breathed. Electric reprieve sizzled in a thousand biting tingles down his spine. He breathed like one free of a burden.

“Or, she’s going to send the photos with him and her in it ‘doing things’ to the elders.”

His reprieve swung from the neck, where it died.

“Is she an old timer? Have you seen her around.”

“I’ve never seen her in my life.”

”He was good man Andrew,” she said, “Forty years. A good man.”

“What happened after your fight?”

Wiped her face and got up, still fragile. They walked to the study. She popped the laptop open and she pulled up the feed for her security camera.

“What? You have cameras outside?

She nodded

“Show me.”

She pressed play.

“That night he got up and leaves. He walks out the front door at 2:07AM, but then he doesn’t get in the car, he stands in front of the garage, he looks at his phone and then walks off to the side of the house.”

He saw it. He wouldn’t have believed it himself. A churning foulness slithered through his stomach. He felt sick.

“He walks off into the woods. This isn’t him, Andrew.”

“No,” he agreed, “It isn’t.”

“Do you have ”Find My” turned on?”

She looked at him blankly, “No, what’s that?”

“Can I see your phone?”

She opened it and handed it to him. He opened the app. It showed the phone’s last ping. The device didn’t have any battery left. It somewhere off behind the house in the woods.

The pair walked out the back door.

The world was blasphemously dark. The deputy stood the back porch and peered into the dark bosom of the meadow. Misty mountain air pecked his cheeks like nibbling fish in a spring. His eyes breathed, adjusted. There was then perception of all the varying shades of black that made the early morning sky and meadow. The long grass marched to the feet of giants who towered into night with pine needles helms. There darkness gathered in quiet, unmoving pools. Pools too still for the creeping whisper or soundless night. The further he looked into its yawning, lightless mass the wider its void swelled until it seemed one unholy gate into oblivion.

A flick of his thumb and he was a Jedi.

His flashlight a noble weapon. It gave him some courage to walk the meadow and enter the wood. Ellie followed Andrew into the darkness.

“You don’t have to come,” Andrew said, “It’s cold out here and might take me awhile.”

She shook her head. Then motioned her hands for him to keep going.

He did as she bid him. Quietly thankful not be alone, he plowed into the little meadow that tiptoed into the wood at the feet of the sleepy mountain. The long grass was thick swallows of thistles and gnawing wands that swayed and reared in the wind.

A wind stirred the grass to whispers, they’d drawn their long blades. Andrew didn’t like the sound of it. That sinister breeze seemed then too cold for such a mild thing. It walked through the ends of the grass into the nightly pine where it roused the wood against them.

Andrew and Ellie then came to the edge of the wood, its roots moaning beneath them. Everything black, everything invisible but for where the light touched. Andrew plunged in. Ellie’s shivering teeth followed behind him. The forest floor was treacherous to their passage; every footfall snapped with a broken branch or crunched pinecone. They sounded less like two tiptoeing on a mission and more like a great heard crashing aimlessly through the black. They walked for what felt like an hour. Above the world was turning grey.

Dawn was coming.

Then they were at the spot of Reverend’s phone had last pinged Find My. It said they were right on top of it. Andrew hit the ‘Play Sound’ just for hope, but it was no use. The sun had breathed its first breath into the world, but under the wood was the last place to feel it. Andrew used his flashlight. By the time they were done dawn had given them enough to see under the long canopy of shadows.

The phone was no where.

Reluctantly, they turned back for the house. Near the edge of the wood where the grass swept into to meet it, Andrew spotted a white fleck in the forest floor. He ran to it. A pair of Hanes underwear sat atop a disheveled pile of clothes at the foot of some boulders. They were what the reverend had slept in. The feeling was knife like, sharp and cold like steal and it razored down his back lightening quick. The hair on his limbs stood to their feet like they were about to be witness to spectacle.

Ellie looked mortified.

“Does he wear these,” he asked.

“Yes,” she cried, and threw both hands on her head.

Next to the pile of clothes was his iPhone smashed.

“Oh god,” Ellie whispered, “What does this mean Andrew?”

“I don’t know,” he said. He looked at the woman who was already doing the math. It wasn’t good.

“I got to get you back to the house. Don’t touch any of this,” Andrew said and dropped a pin. He put the flashlight into his mouth and started taking pictures with his phone of the scene. He picked it up, knowing he should have come with gloves and bags for evidence. His pocket would have to do for now. He needed a hound to pick up the trail, but a dog would have to come from off the mountain. A storm was coming. A dog would be worthless after.

Then he saw the blood on the boulder. It was shoulder height. He flicked his light away from the stone and hoped Ellie hadn’t seen it. He grabbed her hand and walked her out of the wood. It was much quicker going with light. The meadow seemed thinner, its long wands no longer playing the tricks they had earlier. What had taken an hour to trudge through was no more than a fifteen minute walk back to the house. Ellie talked nervously, fearfully the whole way. Some cold dark aspect haunted his insides. It was unsettling. Andrew asked her all the questions customary to missing person—but she’d already given him all she had.

“I have to go make an arrest with the sheriff. We finally got a lead on that girl that went missing.”

“That’s good,” she whispered.

“but, we’ll on this soon as that’s done.”

“Thank you Andrew.”

He squeezed her tight and kissed her forehead like he had taken to doing. She squeezed him back.

Ellie watched him back out the drive from the porch. A slow, terrible creep had started gnaw its way into him. He looked at her one last time in his rearview mirror. She’d never seemed so alone.

“What in the hell is going on?” he whispered, afraid the trees might hear him. He did the cop thing driving away from that place. Combing back over every word Ellie said, looking for corner pieces of the puzzle or at least two of the same color. He pressed play. The voice memo started to play back. He drove further down Bautista until he came to the fork.

A man was coming up from the other side with old German-Shepherd. There wasn’t any way to avoid the man—not any longer. Andrew stopped the recording reluctantly.

“I don’t have time for this,” he said slowing his vehicle. The mountain walker came up to the door. The lost year had stretched the man thin. Andrew rolled his window down, “Morning Earl.”

“It’s good to see you Drew,” he said and his voice was full like the air at the bottom of a waterfall. His kind blue eyes were thousand warm memories. Andrew nearly choked on them. A sudden heat rushing to his eyes. Even after everything, the man hadn’t spoiled.

“It’s good to see you too,” he tried to measure his voice,, “How’s Janet?”

“She’s good. We’re good.”

“That makes me happy,” Andrew said after an awkward moment.

“It’s been a while.”

A slow, emphatic nod, “It has been.”

“Megan’s in rehab.”

A river swell, ice cold and needle-like rushed through him. The sharpness of it still a weapon and the old man hand sunk it into his guts.

“Oh, yeah?” Andrew managed without emotion.

“She’s twelve weeks tomorrow.”

“I hope it sticks this time,” the bitterness came out quicker than he could stop it.

“We do too,” Earl bit his lip. The old man let gaze wander across Andrew’s face, “We love you, Drew. Nothing’s changed on our part. What Megan did… that was her doing, not yours.”

Andrew looked into the kind man’s eyes.

“We don’t blame you for the divorce.”

His words were hard hearing.

“If I’m honest,” Earl’s voice hitched, “the hardest part about the whole thing was losing you. We just didn’t lose a daughter and grandchild—we felt like we lost a son.”

The heat was in his eyes now, threatening to make streams.

Goddammit, Andrew thought, pull it together Holt.

But, Earl’s words were a homecooked meal, but for his insides.

“I don’t want to overstep or push in where we’re not invited, but we miss you son,” Earl grabbed the top part of Andrew’s arm and squeezed.

The deputy felt his bottom lip quiver.

Goddammit.

He patted the man’s hand with his own, “Thank you for saying all that. If I’m honest, Earl… I didn’t quite know what to do after. Didn’t know how y’all would take it. We tried everything. I didn’t want a divorce. I loved her. I still love her, but she just…”

He thought of the little porcelain headstone. A little girl he’d never know this side of heaven. It put fire in his bone. He could kill them all. Every meth cook. Every dealer. Every goddammed user. He could do it without even the scent of guilt.

“I know son,” his said, his kind eyes ready to bleed, “You did a good job, but people—,”

“… are going to do what they are going to do,” Andrew finished the line with him.

“and Megan, God bless her, wasn’t going to be told nothing. She walked away from the best thing God ever gave her and that was you Andrew.”

The grown man let the tears spill then.

“But, God’s got her on her own path now,” Earl said, patting Andres arm, “I heard you been attending First Baptist. Reverend William.”

“He’s a good man.”

“That he is.”

“Helped me get through… it,” Andrew looked at his father-in-law and smiled, knowing what his next words would mean for the man, “Gave my life to Jesus nine months ago.”

Earl choked on sudden tears. He smiled as big and wide and Andrew had ever seen him smile, “That’s the best news, that’s such an answer to prayer. Praise God!”

Andrew swung his head back and forth exaggeratedly, “Yup, Reverend William has helped a lot.”

“That’s great Drew,” he pat the deputy’s forearm again with some affection, “I heard you guys had quite a service last Sunday.”

Andrew cheeks look like a pufferfish, he blew the air out slowly, “You could say that. It was wild.”

“What happened?”

“Reverend William Elridge was mid-sermon when the vestibule’s front doors blew open and a homeless vagabond stormed in—loud as a drunk and wild as the mocker.

“‘YOU people have nothing on me,” he came in screaming through the froth of a stupor and a crooked finger.

“Alarming though it was, I figured it was jut some meth-using passer-through. Reverend Elridge gave the nod. Four stout ushers moved to restrain the belligerence.

“But, the man wouldn’t be corralled. When he overpowered the ushers I jumped up to help. They talk about meth-strength but it was the first time I’d encountered it. Unconquered, he threw us off him and assailed the pulpit and was atop the Reverend screaming a wicked, wild-eyed laughter. He pressed the sharp, ridged ring painfully in the center of the brow of the old preacher.

William Elridge called on Jesus the whole time. With each plea, a peal of laughter erupted from the madman’s lips. He pressed the sharp ring further into the soft, old flesh until it bled.

“‘I rebuke you,’ Elridge called out, but I heard the man drew near enough to whisper in the preacher’s ear, “‘You have nothing on me.’”

“It took ten of us to over power the drug-fueled fanatic from atop the pastor. Even with the whole of us, the man proved an endeavor to remove from the pulpit. He fought tenaciously down the aisle. I put him in cuff and he broke those. Sheriff came and tazed him, pepper sprayed him and finally got him subdued.”

“Reverend William had to go to the hospital, but he’s better now,” the words bit at Andrew’s insides.

“Well that wasn’t drugs son—that was demon.”

Andrew had been a deputy for years. He lived in Clear Water his whole life. He knew meth, coke, heroin.

“His toxicology came back and he had a fair bit of meth in him. Likely, a bad batch.”

Earl shrugged, “That might be so, but that don’t make what I said untrue.”

The space got awkward.

“You should come with us some time. We started going to the Pentecostal in town.”

Reverend Williams had told Andrew about Pentecostals—their falling floor and speaking in tongues shenanigans was more likely demonic than the man high on meth. Bill had little love for foolishness of Pentecostals and hadn’t kept the sentiment to himself. Last thing Andrew wanted to do was spend a Sunday in that church, listening to its crazy preacher. He didn’t even know how he’d explain it Bill.

If he’s still alive, the words were an ice cold toll of a bell deep within him.

“It’s one thing to know the Word, Drew. But, it’s wholly other thing to know Spirit. Good Christian should know both.”

“That’s true.”

“We’d seriously love for you to be in our lives—son. It would mean a lot to Janet and I. We’d love to be there when you find someone new. We’d love to celebrate with you. God’s got more Andrew. A future and a hope.”

Even through everything, the man was still kind. Andrew let his soul swallow Earl’s words. He squeezed the man’s hand back.

“Maybe we could do church and lunch. Janet would love to see you.”

“I’d love to see her too,” Andrew said, “Maybe after this storm blows over. This thing at the Parish is going to be a big deal.”

“It’s terrible. You think it has something to do with all this weed business?”

“It wouldn’t surprise me. It was pretty terrible Earl.”

“It is absolutely demonic.”

Andrew had forgotten what it was like to be around his Pentecostal in-laws.

“Well hey, I got to run, this day is slammed and we got a storm coming.”

“Stay safe son, and give us a call. We’d love to go to church with you and have lunch.”

“Sure thing Earl,” he went to roll up his window, but stopped, “It was really great seeing you. Let Janet know I’ve missed her. Let me get through this week and we’ll do church and lunch.”

He hated that he’d just agreed to go to the Pentecostal. Reverend William said it was them that had demons with all their tongue talking and running around acting a fool. But Earl’s eyes lit up. Andrew could see the beginning of tears.

That made it worth it. He could suffer a service for that.

“Good bye Earl, I’ll give you a call after the storm. Love ya.

“Love you too.”

Andrew drove off with a little bit hope. The good feeling turned to ash as he thought about what he’d found. He dialed the sheriff. He looked at his watch. It was 7:45AM. School would was starting.

“Siri, call Liam Bradshaw.”

Sure thing! Calling Liam Bradshaw.

“What’s up? What’d you find,” Liam’s voice came on in the midst of the first ring.

“It’s not good,” Andrew’s voice hitched with emotion. His knuckles white on the wheel.

Liam waited in silence.

“He’s been taken. I don’t know how or by who. I know a woman is involved.”

“What?”

“He left one night after photos of a naked woman in his house and church were sent to Ellie. I found his clothes and blood in the woods.”

“Shit Holt.”

“I know.”

“That’s the second preacher in one week.”

Well, one was a reverend and the other was a priest, but Andrew wasn’t going to correct him.

“That’s a connection. Our first one.”

“Where you at?”

“I’m on my way to Clear Water High. Fifteen min out.”

“Let’s get Brandon wrapped. State people want to meet at the parish. After that, we turn everything on on Reverend William.”

“10-4.”