The Labyrinth of Blue Towers:
The Disappearance of Jack Arneson
(A Sewing Box Mystery)
Chapter 1: Friday, June 10, 2011, 7:21 pm
Chapter 2: Saturday, June 11, 2011, 8:38 am
Chapter 3: Thursday, June 28, 1984, 10:10 am
Chapter 14: Saturday, June 18, 2011, 10:32 am
Missy’s inattention to the efforts of their guide didn’t escape Jeanette’s notice, for it wasn't long before Missy felt a slight punch on the arm, her aunt’s not so subtle way of bringing her back to reality. Still, Missy’s eyes lingered on the sway of Peter’s form moving before her. The heart, or whatever it was that made her stomach go all butterflies, wanted what it wanted.
The trio moved to a bench at the center of the garden. Peter explained that the bench and garden were used by the Brother’s for times of contemplation, or whenever they needed a break from living with a 'bunch of other guys’. He pointed out that there was a garden identical to this one on the other side of the church, albeit with a different set of statues. Yes, he assured them, there were plenty of saints and martyrs to go around.
The bench was only big enough for two, so Peter let the ladies sit on it, while he sat facing them, cross-legged in the grass. This made Missy feel slightly self-conscious, as she was pretty sure that the angle he was looking at her from was not the most flattering. In an effort to prevent him from having to look up her nose the entire time. Missy attempted to keep her chin tucked down. But then it occurred to her that doing so would give him the impression that she had a double-chin - which she probably did, but why call attention to it? Finally, after accepting that there was very little she could do to improve the situation, she found herself drifting into Peter’s deep, brown eyes, as he spoke.
Dreamily, she began to take a private inventory of the features of her spur-of-the-moment crush. His face seemed rather round, but not freakishly so—not in a Charlie Brown way.
Missy liked his lips, especially when they broke into a smile. She found him to be quite handsome, but was sure others would consider him merely cute, in a boyish way. How old was he, anyway? Definitely mid-thirties. Yet, he seemed so innocent. Maybe it was his eyes? They danced with the same light she’d noticed in Brother David’s earlier. Was it something in the water? In any case, there was something comforting and reassuring about Peter's presence. It made her want to be cuddled. Oh, gawd, thought Missy, I feel like I'm in high school or something. Realizing that Peter had been talking the entire time she'd been analyzing his looks, she shook herself out of her reverie and began to concentrate on what he was saying.
“Years ago, in the eighties, the Brother’s had quite a reputation for the artesian breads they made using recipes they'd developed over the ages. Originally, they baked only in order to meet their own needs and those of the less fortunate in the community. But once the Vatican cut some of their funding, they decided to sell it to the public as a means of raising funds in order to keep the Monastery going. Word spread, and soon St. Petersburg began to get visitors from all over - and not everybody was exactly happy about that.”
“Because the town’s so... private?” Missy inquired.
“Yes,” Peter smiled. “This town is... well, it’s a very closed society. Not unlike the Brothers themselves. Today, both are much more welcoming.” He paused, and laughed to himself before adding, “Well, the Brothers are, at least.”
Jeanette scoffed.
Peter paid her no mind. “Back then, not so much. In fact, the Brothers used to not speak at all. To be part of this order you had to take a vow of silence. Anyway, their bread became pretty popular. So popular that the Tollefsons, who now run B&T and at that time only owned a small bakery downtown, got jealous as hell. Old man Tollefson wanted those recipes. He even offered to buy them, but the Brothers wouldn’t share. Then the Brothers decided to expand their operations. They bought a fleet of trucks and started selling their goods across the river, in the same stores as the Tollefsons. That's when things got ugly. A few years after their whole feud began, a local boy stepped forward accusing members of the order of sexually abusing him. The scandal broke big and brought the Brothers all sorts of attention - he wrong kind. They ended up settling out of court with no criminal charges being brought But, in order to pay the settlement? They had to sell off their business to the Tollefsons. So in the end, the Tollefsons got what they wanted"
“Did you know the boy involved?”
“Yep. Sort of. He’s a year or so older than me, but everybody knows everyone here. His name is Boyd Dean. Lives over in Jasper now. Word is he's real messed up about the whole thing. His mama still lives here in St. Petersburg, though.” Peter paused and looked around guiltily. “Anyways, that’s all I know about it.”
Missy sensed that Peter knew more, but was afraid to talk. She wanted to press him for more details, but felt it wise to air on the side of caution, believing that there would be time later to get more of the story. Unfortunately, Jeanette didn’t share her preference for the subtle approach. In fact, her aunt’s direct tact caused Missy to cringe just a bit.
“So, you think they did it?”
“Huh?” Peter rose. Jeanette's question seemed to catch him off guard as well. But Jeanette paid no heed and bluntly blazed ahead.
“The Brothers? Do you think they’re the kind of guys who molest little boys?”
Peter looked off into the distance It was obvious this was not the first time he'd thought about this or the first time he'd been asked this question. He spoke slowly and deliberately. “Based on those that I know, I would have to say no.” And then, looking Jeanette squarely in the eyes, he continued. “No, they are not capable of doing something like that .”
Jeanette continued to pursue her line of questioning. “So are the ones accused still here, or did they get moved around to other parishes, other monasteries? I hear the church does that sort of thing a lot .”
Peter rose “I... I'm not sure .To tell you the truth. I don’t know all the particulars. The Brothers don’t like talking about it And, to be honest, I don’t either ”
“Yeah, but...”
Missy placed a hand on top of her aunt's knee in the hopes of preventing her from asking more questions. Message delivered, she rose up and stood in front of Peter. “We understand. Just so you know, we’re... not reporters or anything like that. Just curious, is all.”
Peter stared hard at Missy for a moment. Then he seemed to find something in her eyes that made him relax a bit, and the tension that had momentarily consumed the garden evaporated.
“Sorry, about that. I guess I’m a little protective of them.” He smiled. “They’re really a nice bunch of guys. I think the fact that they're so private kind of leads folks to think that they’ve got something to hide, but, trust me, that’s not the case.”
“Well, they sure could work on their social skills,” grumbled Jeanette.
“That’s Brother Michael. He... he’s real thin-skinned when it comes to dealing with people who come poking around. I mean, they have had to deal with a lot: the Sheriff’s Department, the Vatican, the FBI, reporters, TV News people, social activists, you name it. Even some of the townsfolk - people who’ve been attending St. Peters all their lives, got all up in arms and questioned their innocence when that whole Boyd Dean scandal broke. So given that, you have to cut ‘em some slack. You have to keep in mind—for many years the Brothers didn't speak or interact with the public at all.”
“Lucky public.”
Missy shot her aunt a sharp look. Couldn't she see that being sour was not the way to win people over? Missy turned back to Peter and gave him a beatific smile. “When did that change? Why did they break their vows?”
“Court-ordered. When it came time for the depositions and dealing with the media, it was decided by the Vatican that rather than risk contempt of court charges for maintaining their silence or writing everything out by hand and coming off as if they had something to hide, that it was better to break their vows. After the whole thing blew over, the vows were never reinstated. And that wasn’t the only thing that changed around here.”
Peter scanned over each of his shoulder, checking the sidewalk for anyone approaching before continuing in a hushed tone. “Their relationship with the town, for instance. The Brother’s used to be treated with the utmost respect. Now, people act differently around them. You can see it in their eyes and the way they look at them. After the scandal, the Brother’s weren't as welcome as they once were. Their dealings with the school systems, even the college, are now quite limited.” Peter, staring at the ground, kicked the toe of his work boot at an imaginary stone. “Given time, maybe that will change, but people have long memories here. That’s what happens when not much new happens - you hang onto the old.”
Missy wanted to reach out and touch Peter’s shoulder as a sign of comfort, but resisted the temptation. “Sounds like you know a lot about this town. How long have you been the groundskeeper here, at St. Peter’s?”
“Going on six years now, but been around here my whole life. Around the Brothers, I mean. I like what I do. I get to spend a lot of time alone outdoors. Sort of appeals to my personality. Sure beats being holed up inside somewhere.” Looking at her from under the flap of his bangs, his smiled beamed towards Missy.
“So, you weren't here during the time of the scandal?”
Peter blushed “Yes. I was around. But I wasn't the groundskeeper. I was only like twelve or so. Back then, that would have been Abe Longren. He’s retired, now.”
Jeannette, her interest reignited, rose from the bench “Still in town?”
Peter eyed her warily before answering. “Yeah, on the outskirts, near Maiden’s Head Rock.” He turned and pointed toward the east. “He’s pretty much a loner. Keeps to himself.” Peter then looked to Missy and smiled. “Maybe that’s what happens to old groundskeepers. Sure hope not.”
Sensing that she had won his trust. Missy decided to find out if there was any chance she could get him to show them around. Deciding to appeal to his male sense of power and control, a tact she frequently employed at work in order to get the engineers she supported to do something she needed done, she asked, “So, you’re in charge of this place, huh? That’s a lot of responsibility.”
“It suits me. Enjoy the work and, as I said, the Brothers are great to work for.”
Missy took just the tiniest step toward Peter before looking up at him with her biggest eyes. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to show us around?”
Flustered, his gaze broke from hers. “Well, that depends... on what you want to see.” His smile returned. There was something vaguely sly about it and Missy was pretty sure they were as good as in.
“I want to see the furnace.”
“Huh?” Peter’s head swung back, his face full of confusion. Obviously this was not an answer he’d expected.
Jeanette stepped up behind her niece to clarify in a loud voice. “The furnace. She wants to see the furnace.”
Missy looked over her shoulder at her aunt, her smile growing tight. “He’s not deaf. He just didn't understand.”
Jeanette remained unconvinced, “What’s to understand? Show him the map.”
With some trepidation, Missy produced her copy of the map and showed it to Peter, who immediately began to study it intensely. She waited for him to question where the map had come from or what significance it held. She was quite surprised and a bit relieved when he seemed to accept it at face value. Peter scratched his head for a moment. “Oh, hmmm.” He remained focused on the map, turning it every which way. Then he snapped his fingers, “Know what? I think I know where this is.” His eyes burned brightly into Missy’s. “It’s in the basement of the wing where the Brothers used to bake bread. That part of the church isn’t used for anything anymore, except storage.” He shrugged. “I guess they wouldn’t mind if I showed you.”
Missy looked to her aunt and then smiled back at Peter. “That would be super nice of you.”
“Well,” grinned Peter, “I’m sort of a super nice guy.”
As Missy began to laugh, she stole another look at Jeanette, who rolled her eyes.
“Right this way, ladies.” With that Peter began to lead the way.
This time, as Missy followed, her eyes were more concerned with the prying eyes of others than with Peter’s perfect butt. She had a definite sense that they were finally making some headway. And they would, just as long as they didn’t get caught.
Making their way around the front of the church, Missy recognized that the north side was, as promised, the mirror image of the side they had just left. It had two annexes jutting from the main body of the church at different angles, with a garden, similar to the one they had just sat in situated in the middle. As they passed by the first of the jutting wings, Peter told them that it was where the administrative offices and the congregational hall were located. The hall had a full kitchen and was used primarily for wedding receptions and other church-related activities. The second annex housed the old bakery. Before entering, Peter surveyed the area to make sure no one was watching them enter.
“Okay, once inside, we can't turn on any lights; it’ll attract attention. Just stick close to me.” As he said the last bit, his eyes zeroed in on Missy and she felt herself grow flush.
Missy and Jeanette both nodded silently and with that he unlocked the door to let them inside.
The group immediately came face to face with a mass of clutter. What used to be the main kitchen was now choked with pews, banners, and seasonal items, such as the figures from a life-sized creche. Moving carefully to the right, following a series of narrow paths, they threaded their way through the eclectic array until they reached the door that led to the basement. As Peter sorted through the massive collection of keys he kept on a steel wire tether attached to a belt loop, Missy’s eyes grew accustomed to the relative darkness of the room. There was so much stuff piled up, it blocked out most of the natural light that would have poured through the kitchen’s many windows. Finally finding the correct key, Peter opened the heavy blonde wooden door.
It was even darker in the staircase. Scarier, too. As they made their way down, Missy totally felt like Nancy Drew - as in, a little ridiculous; though Nancy Drew would have had the sense to bring a flashlight. Her lack of preparedness quickly snowballed into an avalanche of doubt. What the hell were they doing? Sneaking around the basement of a Catholic church? She felt she should turn right around and put an end to the whole stupid thing right there and then, but, since they’d come this far, she really did want to learn as much as she could, for Grandma Jean’s sake, so she kept her doubts to herself and followed Peter.
The basement was also more cluttered than the upstairs. Were men of the cloth secret hoarders? In the dim light, Missy looked at her map. With all this junk piled about it was going to be very difficult to pinpoint any similarities. Missy noted that with more clutter there seem to come more dust. Jeanette sneezed three times and freaked out a bit when a low hanging spider web happened to graze her face. Missy didn’t blame her aunt. She hated spiders, too. Peter, again, cautioned them to be quiet; he really didn't want to get in trouble with the Brothers for doing this.
“The furnace is kind of in the middle, just like you have it there on that map of yours. It’s one of those gigantic, ancient octopus-arm things; probably filled with asbestos. They replaced all the furnaces in the rest of the building, but since this wing is no longer used for anything but storage, they’ve never seen the need to remove or replace it.”
Dodging numerous mountains of boxes and oddly-shaped shadows. Missy and Jeanette soon found themselves standing in front of the furnace. It was exactly as Peter had described it.
As Missy stepped closer, she saw that there were raised letters on its cast iron door. In the gloom, her eyes could just barely make them out; ‘Tredecar MSR.E’. Brandishing the list. Missy shoved it under her Aunt’s nose and excitedly said, “Look! Look! Tredecar MSRE. It’s here. It’s on the list!”
Snatching the list from her niece's hands, Jeanette scanned the paper until she found the item. Sure enough, there it was. “Well, I’ll be damned.”
This was it! This was proof that Grandma Jean really was onto something. There truly was validity to her dreams. Missy felt her spine go all tingly as goose bumps rose on her arms. She was certain that her aunt was experiencing the same sensations.
Peter looked on, confused, as the two woman talked.
Awed and amazed, Jeanette distractedly waved the list and exclaimed, “How could she have known that? Terri said they’d never even been to Jasper, much less St. Petersburg. How could she have made that up?”
“That’s just the thing. She couldn’t have. She must have somehow... really seen it."
“Ladies," Peter cautioned, “Keep your voices down. We're on the down low here, remember?” Then, stepping forward, he took the list from Jeanette. “What are you talking about, anyway?” He looked at the list. “What is this? Some kind of scavenger hunt or something?”
“You could say that.” Missy wasn’t sure just how to explain the map, let alone the list. Nor was she sure she wanted to. What if he dismissed them as a couple of nut jobs? Keeping in mind the next item on the list, she decided to change the subject. “Are there any windows down here?
With a furrowed brow, Peter, list still in hand, gestured and said, “This way. They all face the garden. You can’t see them right now because of all the boxes and stuff in the way.” The trio stealthily threaded their way through the labyrinth of stuff and things, making their way back towards the stairs, or so she thought. It was hard to tell and that’s when Missy realized she had lost her bearings. She watched as Peter disappeared into a crevice.
Missy was unsure if she should follow. She listened as he worked. It sounded like he was moving boxes from a stack. Suddenly the air came alive with dust motes as light poured into the crevice. Missy and Jeanette squeezed in. Peter had managed to reveal a small rectangular window. As Missy’s eyes adjusted to the light, she caught sight of something moving in the distance on the other side of the window. She moved in closer, nudging Peter aside. Now keenly focused, she saw that it was someone wearing a brown robe, like those worn by the Brothers, walking along the sidewalk in the distance. Missy turned to the others. Frantically she spoke, “The list. Who has the list?” Wordlessly, Peter offered it up. Missy yanked it from his hands. With the improved lighting, her eyes tore through the items - once, twice, before landing on: ‘Brown, full-length skirt’. With a smile stretching across her face she looked up at the others. “We are so in the right place. Look.” She held out the list, pointing to the item above the furnace name. Jeanette gingerly took the list and upon finding the item Missy was referring to, pushed past Missy to see out the window. Her head tilted this way and that, before she turned back to face Missy and said flatly, "I must be too short. All I see are a bunch of statues.”
Missy shook her head. “No. There was someone, one of the Brothers, I think, walking by on the sidewalk. All I could see was their lower half.” She paused, hoping her aunt would be able to connect the dots. When it quickly became apparent that wasn’t about to happen, Missy repeated, “Their lower half. You know, looks like a brown, full-length skirt? ‘Brown, full length skirt.’ Like on the list?”
“One of the Brother’s is out there? Shit!” Peter rapidly put the boxes back in place, covering the window. “Hurry! We need to get out of here. There’s a back stairway that leads to the interior of the church. We’ll exit through there. Hurry.”
The women followed Peter as he deftly made his way through a sea of boxes, racks, and furniture. Her eyes readjusting again to the relative darkness, Missy suppressed the urge to yelp as the three batted aside cobwebs while choking on the dust raised in their wake. Peter once again sorted through his keys until he found the one that unlocked this particular heavy blonde wooden door. As he fitted the correct key into the lock above the door’s copper knob, Missy marveled at his ability to do so, given their sense of urgency and lack of light. Once the door was open, they flew up the steps, only to encounter yet another door. Again, Peter quickly unlocked it. Moving through it, they now seemed to be trapped somewhere at the back of the kitchen on the main floor. Missy turned around just in time to see the door they had originally entered open. Someone was coming in! At that precise moment, she felt Peter grab her hand. He hustled Missy and Jeanette through a set of set of double doors. Now, plunged into absolute darkness, all Missy could do was rely on Peter to guide her. In their rush, her hips and limbs crashed and bumped into a myriad of unseen items before Peter came to abrupt halt. The sound of their collective heavy breathing mingled with the sound of jangling keys as Peter searched for yet another key. Where were they? A closet?
From the opposite end of the corridor. Missy heard a crash. Obviously someone had just tipped something over in their efforts to make their way to the double doors they had just entered In the nick of time, Peter found the right key and with a slight push, the trio spilled into the church. Peter paused just long enough to lock the door behind them. The group then swiftly made their way down the side ambulatory to the back of the church. As they ran past the baptismal fount in the center of the octagon, Missy’s eyes raced about. Sure enough, a head poked around the corner of one of the enclaves -they’d been seen! It was probably one of those people covering a prayer shift. She was in too big a hurry to see who it was. Hopefully they wouldn’t think too much of it, or say anything to the Brothers. She didn’t want Peter to get into trouble.
Once outside, the trio raced down the flight of steep church steps. Peter, flushed with excitement, spoke rapidly, as he bounced downwards, “Okay, you need to go. Now! How about we meet up later for lunch? Dale’s Diner, on the main drag through town. You’ll like it,” he promised. “She makes a pork fritter the size of your head.”
Reaching the bottom of the steps, Missy was caught off-guard. Still flustered by their recent chase, her mind was a blur. She paused. Should she accept? Before she had a chance to make up her mind, Jeanette, who was standing just behind her on the last of the steps, made it up for her. “Sure thing. Is that the place next to the bowling alley?” she panted. Peter nodded. “Okay, we’ll meet you there around noon. Thanks for everything. Missy!” Her aunt swatted her niece's upper arm and before ordering her to, “Thank the man.” Missy, clutching her arm where her aunt had just struck her managed a mumbled ‘thank you’ before Jeanette began pushing her in the direction of the car.
On their way to the car, under her breath, Jeanette reprimanded Missy. “You have really got to work on your flirting skills, girl.” Missy didn’t know how to respond. As she was about to duck into the driver’s seat. Missy looked over her shoulder and caught sight of Peter. He was moving quickly, putting distance between himself and the women. ‘Look back. Look back at me,’ she thought, as if doing so would confirm his interest in her. She was about to give up hope when, sure enough, even though he was moving at a fast clip, he still managed to steal a look over his shoulders. As their eyes met again, his pace slowed long enough to offer up a warm smile and a truncated, tentative wave.
Reassured, Missy’s heart swelled. Oh, my.
Maybe this trip would pay off in more ways than one.
.webp)
1 comment:
Oh shit.
I wonder if it was the groundskeeper? And can the be more amateur??? LMAOOO
XOXO
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