man. Something is wrong with all this. He loved his boys more than life itself. I just don’t understand.”
“We will do everything we can to get to the bottom of this, Mrs. Morton. Did your husband have any enemies? Anyone who might want to do him harm?” Gerald asked.
“I tried to keep out of my husband’s business affairs. This house, our homes, our charities, our children, keep me quite busy. I just checked our main accounts, we were fine. My husband was a man of great integrity, detective. If he had enemies, they were only those who envied him. He would never intentionally hurt another person. He was a good man.”
Mrs. Morton’s eyes began to fill with tears as she tried to compose herself. She pulled a tissue from the silver container on the writing table in front of her and wiped her eyes quickly.
“We will try to be brief, Mrs. Morton. We appreciate your patience. Do you know if your husband had ever been treated for depression?” Mitchell asked.
Mrs. Morton smiled thinly, sighed again, and took a long sip of tea. As she spoke, the outer perimeter of her aura flashed soft tufts of brown and gray.
“A few years ago, my husband lost a big case...some company in Miami, I believe. They tried to sue my husband for negligence but they were unsuccessful. The whole thing went on for several years and I could tell it was very taxing for him. He had trouble sleeping and difficulty focusing on his work. He saw a counselor, a friend of ours, for a few sessions. The company eventually dropped the suit but I could tell that the whole thing took a toll on my husband.”
“How long ago did you say that was?” Gerald asked.
“About five years ago, if I remember correctly.”
“Anything else that you can recall that might have upset him more recently?...Another suit perhaps?” Mitchell asked.
“No, nothing...as a matter of fact, business has been great.”
“Gerald, I think we’re done here.”
“I think so too,” Gerald replied.
“Mrs. Morton, we will be going now. Again, thank you for your time. I want to extend my condolences to you and your family.” Gerald extended his hand to Mrs. Morton. This time, however, she stepped forward to hug him. As she hugged him, she burst into a torrent of tears. The attendant walked into the room and placed her arms around Mrs. Morton’s shoulders. The two women backed away from the detective and the attendant led Mrs. Morton away from the reception area.
“I hate this part of my job, Mitch,” Gerald said, shaking his head sadly.
“From what I can see, my friend, this is a murder-suicide case with no easy answers,” Mitchell replied.
“I just don’t know why a man with everything would blow it all in one fell swoop for no reason,” Gerald said.
“In many suicides, we never find out what triggered the final event. You know that.”
“I know, but this one seems odd to me, you know, in a funny sort of way...I don’t think this thing is as cut-and-dried as it seems,” Gerald replied.
“I don’t think I can do much more here, Gerald. If you don’t mind, I am going to head back into town. Let me know what the medical examiner finds when he does the autopsies, and when you get a chance, send me a copy of those security tapes.”
“Sure thing...Hey Mitch, when are you going to go fishing with me and the boys?”
“What about next week?” Mitchell replied.
“You got it. Lake Norman?”
“Fine. I’ll tell Kathy.”
Mitchell hugged his friend and briskly walked back to the Jaguar. He paused briefly to allow his vision to examine the three bodies as they were being loaded into the ambulances. He visually scoured each of the forms carefully. As closely as he could determine, none of the bodies had residual soul material. Other than the dull, gray, misty traces of life force that clung to the corpses, he could see nothing. Somehow, the soul material of these three people had been stolen. A force that could do that was nothing to ignore. Mitchell knew that he would need to do a much closer investigation of this matter under more appropriate circumstances.
Chapter Five
The Hut
Salva didn’t know what to make of the old man. He had not spoken a single word to the two girls in days. He provided food for them. It was simple fare by any measure—cooked meat with bread and wild potatoes—but considering their options, he was going far beyond any measure of civility that they had expected. He gave them a sleeping space and provided them with warm blankets and a large burlap sack filled with straw to use as a pillow. In a word, he had made them comfortable. The unsettling question that remained was, why?
The girls did not leave the grounds surrounding the hut for weeks. They slept, ate, and assigned themselves simple chores around the hut to pass the time. Salva dusted, swept, and cleaned the floors, cupboards, and doors as often as she could. Melvina spotted a large pile of unwashed clothing on the floor near the back of the hut and she busied herself with the task of sorting and washing them by hand. She found a wooden basin and managed to convince the old man that she needed to fill it with water. She opened the door with the basin in hand and walked outside. The dogs parted silently as the old man stood closely behind her and motioned for them to part. The two walked silently down a long wooded path that ended in a clearing.
Melvina could not identify the trees that lined the path. They were tall and broad, with large, dark trunks that bore unusual whorled patterns in their bark. The patterns seemed to form the vague outline of human faces, but Melvina decided that it was an illusion—simply a trick of the light.
The old man walked silently beside her, saying nothing. After a while, they came to the end of the clearing. Melvina saw a small creek flowing along a wide and crooked path that arched through the trees and disappeared beyond the field past the clearing. The water was clear and moved quickly along its path. Curiously, she did not hear the water as it moved. She stopped, looked at the old man, and saw that he had made himself comfortable on a nearby boulder. He was looking up at the sun, eyes wide open, without the least bit of discomfort. Melvina watched the old man for a moment as he sat cross-legged, entranced in a silent dance with the energy of the sun. She had never seen anyone look at the sun in that way.
As she watched him, she saw his diminutive figure begin to glow with a reddish-golden light. The energy from the sun seemed to envelop his form and, within a few moments, she could no longer distinguish the man from the glow of energy that surrounded him. Melvina could feel the energy emanating from his form. At first, she was uncomfortable with what she was seeing. The energy, however, was another matter entirely.
The reddish-golden light enveloped her as she watched the old man. She did not know how, but she felt as though she were somehow being recharged with energy by the act. Broad rivulets of energy began to course through her system. The energy began its path through her body by entering her toes. The sensation was not unlike that of a warm stream of water, but somehow it was stronger, much stronger. The current moved into her legs and gained momentum as it traveled through her body. When the energy reached her pelvis, she gasped aloud. The sensation was indescribably wonderful. She had never felt such pleasure before. In her brief time on earth, she had not had the pleasure of being with a man in the proper way. She had seen her parents’
