14
October 25th, 9:35 AM
Stewart Hollow had become Hell. It was now known for its body count instead of its’ ‘Peaceful Family Community’ like all the signs said. Thanks to news coverage from all over Oregon and locally by Kelly Rodgers, The Harvest Slasher was now being mentioned on new stations from San Francisco to New York City. It was not the publicity the Mayor wanted for his town.
The month had grown cold. The dead trees loomed over the town, their branches extending like brittle fingers from a beast – naked of their leaves. They acted as portentous reminders of the time of year.
The streets were nearly bare during the day and completely vacant at night. Families were in their homes by dark and their doors and windows were latched shut shortly after.
Bruce Slater and Aiden Becker had been released from their holding cells a day earlier. Neither of them could supply any further information. They had planned to keep a close eye on Bruce because of his unstable emotions. Aiden was truly worried about his brother’s whereabouts. The police presence around town was enhanced, and everyone was searching for Brandon.
Sheriff Carter entered the police station with a cup of coffee in hand. Due to fatigue and stress, he hadn’t paid too much attention to his appearance in recent days. His hair had grown long enough to the point where he’d just throw on his Sheriff’s hat everyday. His normal five o’clock shadow was traded in for a dark gray scruff and bags under his eyes were proof of little sleep. He really looked like a different man.
Carter passed by Bethany, who was on the computer, and walked directly into his office. The desk was scattered with papers and files and the rest of the office was just as messy. He sat down and cleared a spot off for his coffee. He looked around, not sure exactly what to tackle first.
Before he was forced to dive into the stacks of files in front of him, a knock at the door lifter his eyes. Stacy Reed stood before him. She had her coat on, and was holding two cups of coffee.
“Good morning, Carter,” she said in a perky manner.
“Good morning, Stacy. What are you doing here?” Carter asked.
“I stopped by to see Alan before I went into work. I have a coffee for him.”
“I haven’t seen him yet. I just got here. Did you ask Bethany?”
“Yeah, she hadn’t seen him either. He left this morning at 7. I thought for sure we would have been here by now.” A slightly worried look slowly crawled over her face.
“I’ll try his radio.” Carter pulled out his radio and called for Reed. “Deputy Allan Reed, please report. Over.”
They waited for a moment and the only response they got was static. Carter repeated himself twice more with the same results.
“Alright, Stacy, you should go to work. We’ll find Alan and I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything. Was he driving his cruiser?”
“Yeah.”
“That shouldn’t be too hard to find. I’ll head out right now.”
“And you’ll call me?”
“I sure will.”
“Carter, you don’t think anything happened to him, do you?” Stacy asked, honestly worried.
Carter made eye contact with her and firmly said, “We can’t think that way. I’m sure he got side tracked. Maybe he got a tip or something that he’s following up on.”
Stacy nodded without saying a word.
Carter drove through town and the outskirts for nearly an hour and came up with nothing. There was no sign of Reed’s cruiser, and no answers from him over the radio. Carter kept telling himself over and over: I’ll find him. Nothing has happened to him. Nothing has happened.
On his way back to the station, Carter’s cell phone rang.
“Hello?” he asked without looking at the incoming callers name.
“Sheriff, it’s Bethany.”
“What is it?”
“I just got a call from Abe. He said he found an abandoned police cruiser on Roots Mill Road.”
“Abe? We might as well just hire him!” Carter closed his eyes tight and calmed himself down. “Thanks, Bethany. I’ll check it out.”
Carter tossed his phone onto the seat next to him and ignited the lights and siren on his car. He skid in to a full 180 degree turn, and sped back the other direction towards Roots Mill Road.
Carter arrived on Roots Mill only a few minutes later, with his sirens screaming into the countryside. He passed by several mailboxes and saw Abe’s truck sitting up ahead. He slammed on his breaks and stopped right behind the mail truck.
Carter got out and approached Abe who was standing by the side of the road. “Tell me, Abe. Why are you the lucky one who gets to find all of this stuff? Not to mention you hand delivered us two letters this month that I have not been very fond of.”
Abe stared at Carter, understanding why he snapped, but tried to defend his dignity anyway. “I work for the Post Office, Sheriff. With all of the places I deliver to, I am usually always in the right spot at the right time. You’d be surprised how many strange things I’ve seen out here that I haven’t called in. But this one, I figured you’d be interested in.”
“Where’s the car?” Carter asked.
Abe pointed off the side of the road where there was a thicket of trees that stretched back across the land into a large wooded area. Sitting not that deep into the trees was a Stewart Hollow police cruiser.
Carter looked at the side of the road where there had been tire tracks cutting into the grass. He stepped into the thicket and examined the car.
“It’s my Deputy’s.” Carter called back to Abe.
“Why would his car be way out here?”
Carter shook his head. “I don’t know.”