Chapter 22
The mystery team arrived at Jeff’s modest home in the Poconos about twenty minutes after Hester abreacted, as only Hester could. No one was home. Jeff had his own house painting business and rattled around in an old van to do his work. Maybe he was at work now. He could be anywhere if that were the case.
Chantal Fleur, always the forensic psychologist, had a sharp eye for detail. “Did you say that Jeff has a beat-up old van, Hester?”
“Yes, I did, Doctor F.”
“Well, there’s one right over there,” announced the eagle eye as she pointed toward the back tree line of the property. Sure enough, about three hundred yards away, parked in front of a dilapidated old farmhouse, sat Jeff’s van. The four friends impulsively took off across the field, running at top speed. David Gold reined them in when they got closer to the house, asking them to be quiet and careful. He drew his gun, stood aside the door and banged on it. “Open up, police. Open up now.”
The door flew open. “Okay, okay. I don’t want any trouble.” A shower of golden Cheez Twists flew out of his mouth as he spoke. Once the detective was certain that Jeff did not have a weapon, the team entered the house.
Hester grabbed Jeff by the shoulders and shook him. The new Hester was very strong. “Where’s Brother Matthew? I know you have him.”
“I’m right here. Not to worry. Everything is fine now,” shouted the novice from the next room as he opened the creaking door to his holding cell. He walked into the parlor, completely free of his chains, grateful and relieved—and a few pounds lighter.
Jeff stared at him in amazement. “How did you get out of the shackles I had locked around your ankles?”
“You left the keys in there when you locked me up. I could have escaped earlier but I needed to understand what you were up to. I thought it would help all of us. I’m so sorry to have upset everyone. It appeared to be the only way I could figure out what you were up to and protect everyone involved.”
On the way to the Simko’s, they explained to Brother Matthew that his ex-fiancée was now dead. Matthew was subdued, trying to take in the maze of events that in no way even began to form a gestalt or pattern for him yet, thus healing would take a while yet.
Mr. and Mrs. Simko were far from happy to have their mourning invaded by the mystery team plus two. Mutt was especially disturbed to see Jeff and Brother Matthew. Tender and confused emotions hovered over and around the entire group.
“I’ll save you all a lot of trouble,” confessed Mutt Simko. “It was my stupid idea to kidnap Matthew. He dumped my daughter and I didn’t like it. She was waiting for him to come to his senses and leave the monastery. She even wore the diamond engagement ring he gave her. I followed her a few times. Sometimes she would walk over to the monastery and walk around the acreage above and behind the monastery buildings. That must have been what she was doing when she got shot.
“Trooper Jonas was just here. He said that they are of the opinion that Christi’s death was accidental, probably the result of a hunter’s stray bullet. The State Police believe that whoever the hunter was, the person panicked and covered up his or her act by trying to bury our Christi.
“A broken engagement is far less important than a death. I see now the stupidity of my anger and revenge. It only made matters worse. I vow not to take revenge on the death of my daughter. I know it will not help.”
Mutt and Jeff left the Simko home with Detective Gold at the wheel. They would be residing in the jail in Stroudsburg until the authorities decided their fate. Mutt would be permitted to attend the funeral of his daughter.
Mrs. Simko drove Francis, Chantal, Hester and Matthew back to the monastery. As painful as it would be, she needed to look at the site where her daughter had been so hastily buried. She would also spend a long time in the oratory wrestling with God. The vigil for Christi and Matthew had ended. A lifetime of adjustment would follow.