CHAPTER SIXTEEN

At six thirty a.m., Hagerstown is quiet, just before the rushing of residents frantic to get to work and school. For a smaller town, Hagerstown is like any other place during rush hour, with lots of traffic, horns, and vehicles rushing to and fro.

The air was crisp and cool, and the skies were a picture-perfect blue with tufts of pure white clouds passing slowly by—a perfect day to enjoy on the porch of an old home in 1923, rocking on a rocking chair and sipping fresh-made lemonade like Miss Lolita used to make.

But that was not to be. We were being driven to the precinct in the back of a police cruiser, compliments of Captain Krolm, for our seven o’clock command performance in his office.

This morning’s officers gave Graham and me coffee and muffins after they made a stopover at a local deli. I was starving. My stomach had been rumbling since the night before. It was clearly my nerves, and I was surprised I even had a stomach left with all the stress I had been through.

I trusted the new young officers but instinctively kept looking out the rear window for anything even the slightest bit suspicious. At this point, I trusted no one else. I knew I was not like a cat with nine lives. I had but one life to give, and I was holding on to it for dear life.

Graham, on the other hand, was as cool as a cucumber. If I were as well trained in deadly defensive maneuvers as he was, I would be calm too. But I was never a fighter. I was one of those rare breeds who could talk his way out of almost anything.

There was a time, a while back, when I was in a bar and this big, ugly, drunk man had clearly stolen the money I had placed on the bar in front of me. I think it was merely to pick a fight. Some drunks will use any excuse to fight someone. Some drunks get abusive, and some get very depressed and quiet. Well, this big palooka wanted to fight as soon as I accused him of taking the few dollars. He got real loud and stood up quickly, knocking the barstool right over. I knew I’d better talk quick or I’d be bleeding all over the floor.

By the time I was done talking, we had become new best friends, at least long enough for me to make it out the door safely. I even bought him another drink, which could have been a mistake, but this time it worked.

Talking for me has always been better than trying to punch my way out of trouble.

The captain was sitting quietly at his desk when Graham and I were ushered in. He appeared to be deep in thought—no doubt, what with all the action his town had experienced in the past few days. I couldn’t blame him for being annoyed that I had visited Hagerstown, but he must have realized deep down that I hadn’t really started the trouble here. It was already in Hagerstown. It had lain dormant for many years, but it was like a sleeping giant with a huge toothache, similar to the nasty drunk who was itching for any reason to fight someone. I had set off something here, and it had mushroomed out of control.

The captain looked up from his papers and said, “Gentlemen, good morning. Have a seat, please.” His tone was non-combative. He seemed resigned to the fact that there were bad people in his community, even the ones he had least expected.

“We have done a search of Millie’s Diner,” he began. “We shut it down and informed all the workers last night and this morning that this was an ongoing investigation. We suspected Sy, the owner, to be connected somehow to Billy Blaine, and we were right. Billy was staying in the basement of the diner. He would enter after midnight and sleep on the basement floor. So, yes, Sy Trylan was paying off Billy to cause all kinds of havoc, mostly as a scare tactic. He wanted to scare you away, and when you wouldn’t take a hint, he wanted you dead. And when Billy failed to get it done, Sy tried to do it himself, although, obviously, he failed too. So, we wanted to search his office for any clues that would shed light on the investigation. We questioned Billy again, but he refused to speak, even when we hit him with the Sy Trylan tie-in.”

“Captain, why did Sy choose Billy Blaine?” I asked.

“Billy is a three-time loser. He’s done all kinds of things in his past, but he has never killed anyone. He was clearly out of his league. Why Billy? We don’t know yet, but there has to be some connection. We’ll figure it out sooner or later.” He let out a heavy sigh and took a swig of coffee. He had the worried look of a man under pressure. “The mayor is all over our asses on this one. He wants answers yesterday.”

That explained the captain’s change of attitude.

“Captain Krolm,” Graham began, “how do we know there aren’t others involved?”

“We don’t, son. We believe this is the end of the reign of terror in Hagerstown from this clan. But there are always sympathizers, relatives, others who want revenge because we locked up their pals. You can’t be too safe. That is why we are keeping up our guard on this one. We are providing ongoing protection at the nursing home, the hotel, and wherever you boys go. The workers at the diner are also all under investigation, as is Sy’s wife and his teenage son.”

“Did Sy give us any new information?” I asked.

“Well, I was about to tell you what we found at Millie’s,” the captain said. “Besides the stash of items Billy Blaine had been using in the basement, Sy’s office revealed a little more. He had notes about where you work at the Washington newspaper. He had you tracked and had a detailed list of your comings and goings. He knew your hotel room number, and he knew you were keen on Felicia from the nursing home.”

“No! Is she in danger?”

“No,” he said, with a tone of authority. “We have an officer covering her every move, and of course the nursing home is secure.”

“If anything happens to her—”

“Lou, allow me to continue, please!” the captain snapped.

He spoke, but I didn’t register any of his next words. It was just noise, background rumble. My only concern was Felicia. I tried to figure out why they hadn’t attempted to harm her up to this point, or worse, kidnap her. What was their angle? Why just Miss Lolita and me? They would have more leverage if they used Felicia against me. But then again, it dawned on me that Felicia knew nothing about my investigation. But Sy and Billy were so paranoid they must have been convinced that I had the entire case figured out. Otherwise, why would they want me dead so badly? Then again, if they had kidnapped Felicia to smoke me out, they could just as easily have killed me.

Suddenly, I was shocked back to reality when the captain picked up some items that had been confiscated from Sy’s office in Millie’s Diner: pictures of his father, the pastor; newspaper clippings about the 1923 Hagerstown murders, with the victims’ names underlined in pen; newspaper stories about investigations that had gone nowhere, suspects accused and released, and a suspect who had committed suicide but who was later cleared of all wrongdoing.

Then the captain floored me. He picked up a large lion’s head ring, protected in a zip-lock bag, from a pile on his desk; it glistened under the bright fluorescent lights.

“And finally there is this large ring—a very unique gold ring that no doubt belongs to someone in Sy’s family. All of these items were carefully locked away in a strongbox in Sy’s office downstairs from the diner,” the captain said matter-of-factly.

“That’s it, Captain! That’s the ring!” I yelled excitedly. “I know that ring!”

“You?” he asked. “This ring?”

“Uh, yes.” And then I caught myself. I thought carefully how to proceed and not sound like half a nut.

“How could you know this ring?”

“Well, you see, Captain, Miss Lolita let me read a diary she kept during the year of the murders. In the diary, Miss Lolita described numerous dreams she had about the killer, who was wearing that same exact ring,” I said.

“Not this ring, I’m sure. There are probably lots of rings that look like this. It can’t be the same one.”

“Captain, I need you to get a special search warrant for the church, the Lord’s Reformed Church of Hagerstown.”

“Lou,” he began, “that is Sy’s brother’s church. Pastor Cornelius Trylan has been the pastor for many years. And before him, his father Seymour was the pastor. And before Seymour, his father Harvey was the pastor. All the prominent citizens from our town’s past are buried at the church. Do you realize what you are asking me to do?” His ears were beet red as he clearly grew more than annoyed.

Graham studied me with a worried look, as if I had some sort of out-of-control fever.

“Yes, Captain, I realize what I am asking, but we need to search the church. I have my reasons. I just can’t get into all of it now.”

“Oh, so now you think you’re like the hotshot TV investigators, don’t you? And based on a hunch, you want me to invade the oldest and most prominent church in all of Maryland.”

“We know that Sy was protecting someone!”

“Lou, stop and think about it for a minute. The murders were performed ninety years ago. The killer or killers are in the ground somewhere themselves. What are we trying to do here?”

“Captain, we are trying to help the remaining family members of those girls get final closure.”

“Closure? What closure? The parents themselves are dead. It’s been ninety years, boy!” The captain’s face was now turning really red, and Graham’s eyes were telling me to back off a little.

Out of desperation, I yelled, “Just do it! Do it for Miss Lolita!”

The captain looked at me, studied my face, my eyes, trying to figure out if I had finally lost my mind. After all, he was the one with the loaded gun, and all I had was a loaded mouth.

There was silence except for the overhead fluorescents singing their special song, a sound one could only hear in total silence.

Finally, he said, “Okay. I don’t know why I’m doing this, but okay, I’ll try it.”

“Thanks, Captain,” I said. “You won’t be sorry, I promise.”

“I’m already sorry. I’m sorry I ever met you. You are bad karma or something.”

“Oh, come on, you don’t believe that.”

“Oh, no?” He gave me a crooked smile. “You’re a little wacky!”

“Okay, you’ll see,” I promised again. “Just one more favor. I want to be at the church for your search. It’s important.”

“You are out of your mind, for sure! Where did you ever dig this banana-head up from?” He looked at Graham. “Some farm?”

“He is very odd, I’ll agree,” Graham stated, “but he has a solid-gold heart.”

“Yeah, and a coconut for a head!” the captain snapped. “Okay, but listen to me, both of you: If you two get in the way during our investigation, I will personally tie you both together and stow you in the police car’s trunk. Understand?” He yelled so hard that his veins were popping.

“Yes, sir,” I snapped right back.

“Now get the hell out of here, and don’t come back until three p.m. No wonder your boss has lost his mind . . . .” The captain mumbled this last bit under his breath as he turned his attention to the forms on his desk.

“Later, Captain,” I said, as Graham and I exited his office quickly.

“You’ve got balls of steel, bro!” Graham shook his head at me.

Later that morning, Graham and I entered a Dunkin’ Donuts shop. I had never drunk so much coffee as I’d downed in the past few days. I think the caffeine was adding to the twitching and the shaking of my hands. But I wasn’t sure; I had no way of separating the fear of an attack from the effects of caffeine.

I inspected every patron in the coffee shop as well as each person behind the counter. These days everyone looked suspicious to me, like they were capable of pulling out a gun and shooting up the place. Even my right eye was twitching; that had never happened before. It is amazing how the brain can scare the hell out of the rest of your body.

“How you holding up, buddy?” Graham asked, as we stood on line.

“Me? Solid as a rock!” I bragged.

“Yeah, right!” He laughed. “You know what you told me before you started working on this assignment? You said, ‘You know the most important thing that happens in Hagerstown? When Dunkin’ Donuts puts out the new donuts at seven a.m.’”

“Oh, yeah, I remember that one, back in the good old days.” I smiled. “Who knew there were a bunch of madmen here? Imagine—a quiet little town like Hagerstown has crazy-ass maniacs, too.”

“Yeah, but you would have never met Felicia if you hadn’t traveled to Hagerstown.”

“Ah, Felicia. She is a special angel sent from heaven. You know, Gra, there’s nowhere else I could have found someone as good-hearted and sensitive as Felicia. The girls back home are tough, and it shows through. Felicia is genuine, the real deal. I’m going to marry that woman one day. And you will be my best man.” I smiled a big smile at Graham while I felt myself start to twitch to the music the coffee shop was playing. I need a vacation, I told myself.

By noontime, Graham and I had once again signed in at the nursing home to visit Miss Lolita. We spoke briefly with Jeremy Roberts about Sy’s death and Billy Blaine’s arrest.

At the home, the police officers must have numbered twelve. They were inside and outside. The captain was taking no chances, especially now that the mayor of Hagerstown was all over his ass.

The nursing home was jumping with activity—visitors and happy residents. You would never have known that an attempted killing had taken place there just a day earlier. Mr. Roberts told us that Mary, the kitchen worker, was going to be released in a few days from the hospital, and that she was doing well after a very bad time of it. The hospital finally was able to reverse the poison in her body.

I liked Mary, and was so thankful that she would be back to normal soon. These people in the nursing home work very hard and don’t earn a lot of pay. By the time taxes and other withholdings come out of their checks, they go home with little to survive on in this expensive world. Still, you could never tell that from their attitudes in helping the residents. And from what I had seen, it was a tough, gut-wrenching job. I couldn’t work there day in and day out.

I ran into Ken, the paralyzed forty-something man who had been in a wheelchair, like a prisoner, for more than twenty years since his car accident. It broke my heart to see him, but it made his day for him to see me and give me a smile. I guess any attention the residents got was more than welcomed. The wheelchair-bound older residents were in their usual positions in the lobby, enjoying the comings and goings. What a life, I thought, waiting for nothing, and watching time slip slowly by. I took it all in. I stored the picture in my memory so that I would learn to be a better person.

My visits to the home revealed that the women, who outnumbered the men, apparently adjusted better and participated more regularly in social activities. Many of the men seemed like fish out of water—surviving but having little fun. Miss Lolita was different. She had a purpose. She felt that she had to give back to society. It seemed like she was accumulating credits of a sort for each person she helped with a problem or gave a word of encouragement to. Miss Lolita had life figured out—something most people take for granted.

We met Miss Lolita in the large dining room. It appeared that most residents had finished lunch. Miss Lolita was just finishing up what looked like a fruit cocktail cup. She looked cute, as she had on a little bib to protect her sweater.

Someone told her that I was there to see her. As I got a little closer, her eyes lit up and a big smile came across her face.

“You know the drill, Sonny. Get up real close so I can see that baby face your mama graced you with.”

“Baby face!” I said, pretending to be shocked. “That’s a good one—Baby Face Lou. It’s got a nice ring to it!”

Graham just laughed.

“Well, it’s definitely better than that mug of a face you got stuck with!” I bumped Graham a friendly push and laughed.

“That must be the hero, Graham,” Miss Lolita said. “You better get up here real close so I can see you. Don’t you two boys rile me up now and force me to get out of this wheelchair and whip you both.”

“She probably could smack the crap out of you, Lou!”

“The way I feel now, she’d kick my ass,” I agreed.

I got real close and kissed her on the cheek, as did Graham in turn.

Suddenly, her eyes turned sad and her smile disappeared. “I heard about Sy. I felt so bad for that boy. I knew his papa and granddaddy real well. This town is going to hell in a hand basket. I am only thankful you boys are unharmed. I’ve been worried sick that some madman like that banana-boat, Billy Blaine, would do you boys harm or even harm other innocent people.”

“It was a surprise,” I said, “Sy being involved in the terror and destruction. No one suspected him.”

“That’s the preacher’s son. Can you believe that?” she asked.

“Miss Lolita, Captain Krolm is investigating Sy and the diner, and even Sy’s brother’s church.”

“I used to go to church there as a child. Why would Sy do such a thing? Pastor Cornelius will drop dead from the embarrassment of it all!”

“Miss Lolita, I know it brings back bad memories about the 1923 murders and all, but I saw in your diary here”—I held it up in front of her—“parts about the chipped bricks and the cross . . . .”

“You know it’s from the church now, don’t you, Louis?” She looked long and hard into my eyes.

“I had my suspicions.”

“The father was involved. Sy’s father, Pastor Seymour Trylan, was involved. I know it deep inside. God forgive me, I never took to that boy. I was a young girl, and he taught Sunday school after church. He was just plain weird. I knew it all these years. Seymour was an ugly, shy boy that none of the girls ever took to. God forgive me, I never understood why that young girl would marry that oddball boy. But she did, and they had the two boys.” She shook her head in disgust. “Weird, I tell you! Wacky weird!”

I told her that they had found the lion’s-head gold ring from both of our visions locked up in Sy’s things. Her memory was perfect. She recalled that it was listed in her diary as a vision.

“God forgive me again, but I never could bring myself to tell anyone about my visions about the ring, the cross, the bricks, and the cemetery stone. Who would have believed me? After all, going after the clergy like that? It just wasn’t done. They would have locked me up and given me shock treatments every day!”

Miss Lolita was right. Who in 1923 would ever believe a young woman who said she had visions and suspected the pastor’s son of murder? She had no clear-cut evidence, and the entire town’s residents would surely have had her locked up as insane.

Now I was on a special mission. I would act as the arms and legs of Miss Lolita, who was not mobile or in a position to run around town doing an investigation.

I had this burning desire to right a wrong. These days, it seems, so many individuals get away with murder, cheating, and stealing. I was tired of the guilty going unpunished. The year 1923 was different. But in the visions I had experienced, I felt the presence of the spirits of those three girls, however briefly. I felt I owed it to the Hagerstown citizens and the surviving heirs of the three dead girls. I told this to Miss Lolita, and she agreed.

“You can be my angel from heaven. You can do what I can no longer do. But if I were a couple of years younger, I tell you, I would hunt those skunks down and cut their legs out from under them, I would!” Her voice rose as she spoke until she was yelling out loud for all the dining room residents to hear.

I believed Miss Lolita. She was one tough cookie if you got on the wrong side of her. I could picture her, at her age, swinging her cane at Sy and Billy’s heads, and probably connecting for a good smack too.

Maybe it was her upbringing on the family farm, or maybe that she was born in 1902. Maybe it was from growing up in Hagerstown. But whatever it was, it had turned Miss Lolita tough as nails, yet God-loving.

“You protect my boy here!” she warned Graham. “I don’t want any harm to come to him! You hear me? I don’t want one hair on his head to be harmed. You look me in the eyes, there, macho man. I want you to promise me.” She had a stern look on her face as she waited.

“I promise, Miss Lolita. He is one of my best friends. Nothing bad will happen while I am with him. I can take care of myself, ma’am.”

“Yes, I heard you with Billy Blaine. I heard you took him down good. Couldn’t see a damn thing, you know. Gotta be real close, but I can hear! Don’t let that white hair fool you, Sonny! Been white for quite some time you know.”

“He’s right. He can take on five guys at once. I’m not worried, so don’t you,” I lied. I was worried. The best defense is never a match for a gunshot. That was my biggest fear. In fact, I was downright scared that this reign of terror wasn’t over. Maybe I was just overreacting. Maybe it had all caught up with me—the terror, the looking over my shoulder, the echoing of gunshots that kept going off, playing back like a recording deep in my brain. But overreacting or not, I was worried.

It was one o’clock when Felicia came and grabbed me. It was her lunch hour. She took me outside around the side of the nursing home where it was empty. We were like two high school kids in love. We kissed like we would never see each other again. I had never felt like that before. They say it’s a chemical reaction when you fall in love, but all I know is that I tingled all over.

People hold things back in a relationship. Not me. I told Felicia that I loved her and wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. She wanted to know if I was sure. I didn’t blame her. I opened my heart up 100% to her. I just knew it was right. I knew all about opening my heart entirely, only to have it torn to pieces. For months, my heart was hardened, like a brick. Nothing could soften it or penetrate it. I was like a dead man.

The heart and mind close when they’ve been hurt that badly. It’s a protective reflex. I cared about no one for the longest time. Then Felicia just floored me. I didn’t stand a chance of ignoring her. It was just meant to be. My heart of ice had melted.

I told Felicia that I was never as sure of anything else as I was that I wanted her forever and ever.

Felicia’s eyes welled with tears, and I suddenly couldn’t swallow past the huge lump in my throat. I knew I was too tough to cry, but I felt moisture on my face. Who cares? Men have feelings, too.

We saw a couple of workers in the general area, so we decided to escape to the Dunkin’ Donuts down the street. I sneaked past the officers stationed at the entrance of the home and left Graham alone with Miss Lolita. It was good for him to get to know her and her philosophy. It was good for anyone to get a good dose of Miss Lolita. It would do anyone’s heart good. It wakes a person up to realize the fabulous gift of life we are all blessed with each day.

Felicia and I spoke for ten minutes at the donut shop. We planned how we could spend every weekend together. We planned how I would bring out some items and a lot of clothes, and stay at her place. We would be together from late Friday through Monday morning each weekend, when I would leave early to return to work in Washington.

That was when Officer Robert Cianci entered the shop and walked up to our table.

“Officer, we were just going to come back to the home . . . .” I lied.

“Well, now you don’t have to, because I’m going to be sitting in the car right outside the window here.”

“That’s okay—we’ll be fine,” I said, and Felicia’s ears turned bright red.

“I’m sure you will be,” he said with a smirk. “Doesn’t matter; I’ll still be out there. Do you think I want to explain to the captain how you two lovebirds gave us all the slip? He can be meaner than a riled-up rattlesnake!”

“Shit!” I said.

“Worse than that!” He laughed, as he quickly walked out the door.

The officer sat in the police cruiser and stared at Felicia and me. The romantic moment was ruined as we kept noticing Officer Cianci.

“So how is the investigation going?” she asked.

“We are closing in on answers. Sy was connected to Billy, and now we are going to search the church where Sy’s father and his grandfather served as pastors, and where his brother now serves. I feel it in my gut that the church is a key factor here.”

“That’s the oldest church in town. All the prominent people, politicians, and even the founding father of Hagerstown, Jonathan Hager, are buried there. That church is hundreds of years old, and still in good condition.”

“I know. The captain was reluctant about getting a search warrant for the church. He really has had his fill of me. If I am wrong, and we find no further clues at the church, my ass will be grass. And if word gets back to my boss from hell, I may get fired.”

“You could always clean tables at Millie’s Diner,” she teased, her smile wide as she laughed. “Just kidding, Lou. Don’t let it get to you. Look how much you’ve already accomplished here!” she added brightly.

“I know. But I can’t help feeling guilty for the death of Sy. Here was a successful businessman with everything going for him. Why would someone like Sy even get involved in the terror spree that just disrupted Hagerstown and almost killed Miss Lolita, me, the officer in the police station, the gas station attendant, and Sergeant Pawler?”

“Maybe the shooter in the gas station was after you all along, and maybe shooting at the attendant was just to throw you off guard, and the shooter could have picked you off, but he failed.”

“I don’t think—”

“It’s a possibility, though!”

I thought carefully about it for a while. “It is possible. Anything is possible in this town.” The more I thought about it, the more confused I was about the entire investigation. Would I be chased out of Hagerstown, Maryland, by citizens waving bats at me? Would they hold me responsible for Sy Trylan’s death? Would the 1923 murders be too old for the residents to be concerned about? All these thoughts bounced around in my head. Was my whole trip to Hagerstown just a big waste? I would find out real soon. I knew my time here was almost over. I would have to leave with or without any more answers. And my story on Miss Lolita would have to be put to paper real soon, as the newspaper and Glavin would not allow me to go much further. Glavin already wanted to fire me. He probably figured I had a story that was almost finished, so why kill it off now? Graham had even taken a bunch of photos in the past two days.

Felicia tried to take my mind off the investigation and the danger that might still exist for me. She tried to make me laugh, even telling me how cute I looked in the hospital gown that gave everyone a peek at my cute ass. Nothing was working. Death and fear of dying have a sobering effect on people. Normally, the thought of dying didn’t really bother me too much. I figured that if God wanted me bad enough, well, He could have me. I wasn’t in all that much of a demand on earth. But now, with Felicia in my life, I would be kicking and screaming to stay alive. I had finally found something that made this crazy world worthwhile. Love does that. Love changes everything. Even a crappy, selfish, terror-filled world is much more tolerable, even pleasant, when you have a fantastic woman in your life—a woman who cares as much about you as you care about her. No, I was suddenly very scared of dying or of losing Felicia, and closing the chapter of my life without accomplishing something extraordinary. For once in my life, I knew that facing the Lord now would be like insulting Him to His face. Lolita’s words of inspiration convinced me that I had to accomplish so much more and make the Lord proud of me. After all, He had blessed me with the gift of life; didn’t I owe it to Him to present Him with the gift of a life well lived?