The Sequoyah Killings- Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Just as Rebekah Doyle had said, A few minutes after he passed the library, Tim came to the edge of the church cemetery. He paused to look at the headstones, and winced when he saw one that belonged to a young girl named Jane, who had died at the age of six—the same age his youngest son Lincoln had been. She’d died in 1919, probably from the Spanish Flu, Tim guessed. He wondered how her father had handled it, if he’d ever moved on. He put the thought out of his mind and continued walking. 
After another couple of minutes, he crested the cemetery’s hill and could see Sequoyah Baptist Church below in the distance. It was a modest white building with a wooden steeple cutting into the black, starless sky. Four marble columns supported a canopy at the front of the building. There was a small house on the property, just behind the church. There were no cars in the parking lot or exterior lights to illuminate the church property, making it feel abandoned. The only light came from a window on the far right side of the church building, next to an exterior door. Tim made his way to this door and tried it. It was locked. He pounded on the door with his fist. The church wasn’t massive, but Tim wanted to be sure that someone would hear him no matter where they were in the building.
Tim waited a moment, and when nobody came, he decided to head back to the bed and breakfast, and to return to the church the following morning. He had made it a few steps when he heard the door swing open behind him and the parking lot was bathed in light. He turned to see a slim, middle aged man in sweatpants and a black hoodie.
“Can I help you?” the man asked, obviously not expecting any visitors.
“Hello, yes,” Tim said, “I’m looking for Pastor William.”
“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” the man said, extending his hand. “I’m William Carey.”
Tim hadn’t been to church in a long time, but the man standing before him didn’t look much like a pastor, in his opinion. He shook William’s hand and said, “I’m Tim Stephens.”
“What can I do for you, Tim?”
“Well,” began Tim, “I’m a detective, and I’m looking into the death of Daniel May that occurred this morning. Eleanor May told me that his body was found behind the church, and I was wondering if you might be able to show me around and answer a few questions.” He didn’t feel the need to mention that he was no longer employed as a detective, or that he wasn’t working this case in a professional sense.
William opened the door wider and said, “Of course, come on in.” Tim passed through into a brightly lit hallway that contrasted with the darkness from which he had just come. William led them around the corner into a small office. A placard on the door read “Senior Pastor.”
“Can I make you a cup of coffee?” he asked pleasantly. He motioned to a chair that faced a large, mahogany desk.
“No, thanks,” Tim responded. He sat and looked around the office. White cedar paneling covered the walls, brightening the room, and filling it with the subtle scent of Christmas trees. The entire wall behind the desk was one massive bookshelf, completely filled with various Bibles and commentaries of different sizes and colors.
William took a seat behind the desk and studied Tim for a moment before speaking. 
“Are you with the county?” he asked. “How did you hear about this case?”
“No, I’m not,” Tim answered. “I met Eleanor this evening, and she mentioned that Daniel May was the town’s only officer. I offered to look into his death privately, just to help out.”
“I see,” said William. “I’d be careful if I were you. Sequoyah is a good town and the folks are nice, if not a little guarded. Not everyone here is too keen on outsiders.” Tim wasn’t sure if this was meant as a threat. William continued, “But I’m happy to help in any way that I can. Daniel May’s death sure was a tragedy. Just let me know what I can do for you.”
“I appreciate it,” Tim said. “Why are you here so late by yourself?”
“I always spend some time here on Saturday nights, looking over Sunday’s sermon. I live in the parsonage, just next to the church, but it’s hard for me to get any work done at home. I focus better in my office.” Tim remembered all the times he had to bring work home and his boys made focusing impossible. He’d kill for just one more day with them.
“I get that completely,” Tim said. “Do you have a family?”
“No,” William said. “I made the decision to dedicate myself to the ministry. I live alone.”
Tim directed the conversation to the murder. “May’s body was found behind the church this morning, from what I heard. Who discovered it?” Tim asked.
“I did,” William responded. “I was eating breakfast in my kitchen when I heard a gunshot. I threw on some clothes and ran outside, and found Daniel’s body just behind the church.” He pointed out a window behind his desk into the darkness.
“And what did you do once you saw his body?” Tim asked.
“I tried to do CPR, but he was obviously dead. He was shot point blank in the forehead. So, I called Carl Fields, who runs the town’s funeral home. He came and took the body.”
“And why didn’t you call the police?”
William shifted in his seat. “Daniel May was our police. Sequoyah doesn’t have much crime, and we’re a small enough town that Daniel could handle things on his own. There was nobody else to call.”
“Did you notice anything unusual when you found Daniel’s body?” Tim asked. “Any defensive wounds, footprints around the body, other objects at the crime scene that seemed to be out of place?”
“Other than the bullet in his head? No.”
Tim ignored the sarcasm, and continued his questioning. “And you didn’t see anyone fleeing the scene?”
“Not a soul,” William answered.
“What was your relationship like with Daniel May?”
William’s friendly demeanor became cool. “I had absolutely no motive to hurt him, if that’s what you’re trying to get at. We had no problems with each other.”
“Can you think of anyone who did have problems with him?” Tim asked.
“Daniel May was well-liked by some and disliked by others,” William said. “There are plenty of people who would be more than happy to see a change in Sequoyah’s law enforcement leadership.”
“Do you have someone in particular in mind?”
“You could start with Bailey Jenkins. She and Daniel didn’t exactly see eye to eye. He arrested her yesterday during a protest of a proposed development plan.” Tim remembered the flyers he had passed on the way into town.
“And what is this development plan?” he asked. 
“The goal is to build some upscale resorts in the mountains, right on the edge of Sequoyah. They’re calling it ‘Sequoyah Grove.’ It’s supposed to bring in a lot of jobs and tourism dollars, but some folks in town are worried that it’s gonna hurt our ‘small-town’ feel.”
“And how do you feel about the plan?” Tim asked.
“I don’t care too much either way,” he said. “If I had to choose, I guess I’m for it. More people in Sequoyah means more people coming to church. But at the end of the day, I really don’t care. I can’t say the same for Bailey though. She was letting Daniel know her thoughts on it loud and clear yesterday.”
“Well, I appreciate your time,” Tim said, standing. “If I come back in the morning, would you be able to show me where you found the body?”
“Of course,” William said. “Church starts at ten. If you get here before then, I’ll walk you around. You oughta stick around for the service afterwards.”
“I’ll think about it,” he said. The two men shook hands, and William showed Tim out. Tim walked back to the bed and breakfast slowly, replaying his conversation with William in his mind. Regardless of the size of Sequoyah’s police department, it was strange that his first instinct wasn’t to call the police. On top of that, the church was in a relatively spaced out area. If William had come outside right after hearing the gunshot, he should have at least seen the killer fleeing in the distance.
Tim made it back to his room and looked at himself in the mirror again. A small part of him felt purpose for the first time in months. He climbed into the bed, and switched off the lamp on the bedside table. Tomorrow, he would find Bailey Jenkins. He lay in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling.

#

It was a beautiful evening. The sky was turning a fiery red and pink, as the sun began to dip low into the San Francisco Bay. Tim leaned back and held himself up with his hands on the picnic blanket. He turned to face Marissa and smiled. She kissed him, the evening breeze blowing her soft hair into his face. He closed his eyes and heard Jack and Lincoln laughing, as they wrestled over a football they had been throwing back and forth. When the sun was below the waterline and it began to grow dark, he called after them to tell them it was time to leave. They looked at each other with mischievous smiles, and backed away from him. He stood to chase after them, but he suddenly felt like he was trying to run underwater. Jack and Lincoln now began to run, laughing as their father struggled to keep up. Tim managed to get an arm’s length from them, but as he reached out to grab them, they vanished. He turned back to Marissa for help, but all he saw was a green and white checkered picnic blanket, fluttering in the evening wind. They were all gone.