A Vulnerable Broken Mind Page 4

  In that two minutes, John got to see a little bit more of the village. The village, much like the cop, had an old western look to it. The buildings and businesses looked like places that had been standing since the nineteenth century. There were no electronic signs for any of the businesses. All looked to be hand painted signs. There were no street lights. The only sign that there was electricity came from the few lights radiating from some of the businesses. The rest of the businesses were rather indistinguishable as they sat in darkness.

  The office that they were driving to was no different. It was located on the first street in town in the center of the street. There was no sign for the building at all; it was just an old, nameless, small brick building. The front had a glass door and two big windows to the left and right, with no curtains, so that it showed the entire inside of it. It was a small office with two desks, one in the front as you entered the building and one in the very back. There were no pictures on the walls. The only form of decoration was the American flag sitting in the right corner of the office.

  When they walked in, the cop walked to the desk in the back and opened one of the drawers and pulled out a first aid kit. “You can sit here,” he said, indicating the chair directly in front of the desk. John walked up to the desk but hesitated to sit. “It will be alright, trust me. I’m not going to handcuff you or arrest you. You haven’t done anything wrong. It’s alright to sit down.”

  After hearing this, John sat down and took the first aid kit out of the cop’s hands and pulled out wipes and bandages to fix himself up. While doing so, he looked around the office even more. It was the most generic office he had ever seen. There weren’t even pictures or nameplates on the desks. Nothing at all to indicate that this was in any way, shape or form, a police office.

  The cop noticed John looking around and finally took the time to introduce himself. “I’m officer Luke Hanson, I’m actually a police officer from the next town over, Jacksonville.”

  “What’s this town though?” John asked.

  “You’re in Tuxton, South Carolina,” Hanson explained. “It’s an old town that was built in the mid nineteenth century. As you can tell, not much has changed here since then,” he laughed as he said this. “It was abandoned years ago and left to rot. But when the economy took a dive a couple of years ago, the governor saw great economic value to it. So, he secretly began to fix up the town but didn’t want to change its old fashioned look.

  “He added more electricity to the town and built a single row of houses, which are located on the very last road in town. Not many people know of this place. The only people that seem to know of its existence, besides our governor, are the twenty people residing here.

  “This town quite literally sits out in the middle of nowhere. Jacksonville is a good hour and half drive away from here. Which is the big reason why so little people know of its existence.”

  “If the governor wanted people to live here again, why is it such a secretive place?” John asked reasonably.

  “Because the only people he wanted to be living here were people that were truly hurt by the economy or had a good enough reason. It’s mostly been the latter, but I myself wouldn’t find some of them to be good enough reasons,” Hanson explained as he sat down in his chair on the opposite side of the desk. “Now, with that said, why are you here? I know that you tried to explain when I first saw you but I couldn’t really make it out.”

  John sat up, stopped what he was doing, and took a few deep breaths before he explained. “My name is John Robinson and my wife, Amber, has gone missing. We were in a car accident in the woods and when I woke up, she was gone. I believe someone took her.”

  Hanson took out a piece of paper and began to write down what John was saying. “Do you have a photo of your wife?”

  John reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He pulled out a photo of Amber and handed it to Hanson. Hanson looked it over. “You believe that she is here?”

  “I can’t imagine her being anywhere else. This was the first town I’ve seen for hours and, like you said, it’s the only town or place for miles.” John explained, hoping that the cop believed him.

  Hanson sat back in his chair and looked over the photo for a while and put it on the desk. “One of the things about Tuxton is that it’s so small that we usually see people coming in and out. The only time we’ll possibly miss something might be…” Hanson trailed off and appeared to stare into thin air. “No, he wouldn’t do that,” he said quickly and looked down at the paper he had written on.

  “Who?” John asked, puzzled.

  “Ralph Hunt,” Hanson responded. “He’s a big retail store owner who came to live here, so that he could have some privacy.”

  “I’ve never heard of Ralph Hunt,” John explained.

  “No, probably not, but I’m sure you’ve heard of his store,” Hanson said. “Have you ever heard of the ‘T & E Food Mart?”

  John merely nodded.

  “He’s the owner. The governor initially refused to let him live here but couldn’t really stop him when he decided to build his own house here, which is located up the hill that’s right across from us. You can see it from certain parts of town.

  “He built two roads near his house, one that leads down here, and one to get back to the highway, which is where I’m guessing your accident took place.”

  “Since he has a direct way back to the highway, shouldn’t we ask to see if he knows anything?” John asked.

  Hanson sat back even further into his chair and sighed. “I hate dealing with him. He is the prime example of an asshole.” He shook his head. “He’s pretty much Mr. Self-Important and he hates it when people, especially me, bother him.”

  John stood up angrily. “I don’t care. My wife is somewhere and I don’t care who I ask! Especially when someone from this town has direct access to the road where my accident was!”

  “Calm down, John,” Hanson said and gestured for John to sit back down, which he did rather reluctantly. “We have only twenty permanent residents in this town and I’m not about to send each of them into panic mode for someone who might not be here. You need to trust me.”

  John didn’t say anything to this. He only bandaged up the last cut on his body. After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke again. “What are we going to do then?” He asked harshly.

  “We’ll go around town to see if anyone has seen any unusual activity,” Hanson said quickly. “However, I really only know of two that might be of real use for this because they’re always here.” He got up and grabbed the first aid kit to put it back in his desk. “If we’re going to do this, we need to go now.”

  John got up as well and they both walked out. John started to walk to the car but Hanson stopped him. “We’ll walk there,” he said.

  “Why not take the car?” John asked once they started walking.

  “The places that we need to go to are right down the street,” Hanson explained. “In all honesty, there really is no need for a car in this town. A car would only be needed for going out of town. The place is at the very end of the village on the north side, opposite of where I found you.

  “We’re going to the street where the governor put the houses. It’s just a single line of ten houses that sit on the very end of town. The two houses we’ll be going to are at the very beginning of the street. The two residents there are pretty much here all day long. They’ll notice anything different in this town. In the very few cases that we’ve had in Tuxton, they’ve been a big help.”

  When they approached the end of the street, John saw the houses that he was talking about. The houses were all on one side of the road. While supposedly new, they had an old east coast look to them. All of the houses were plain white and were two stories high.

  Each house had a wooden fence surrounding it. All but one of fences were unpainted. Some looked to be well maintained, while others appeared to be already decaying due to lack of care.

  “The two houses that we’
ll be going to are over there,” Hanson said, pointing to the two houses at the very beginning of the street. They were the only two houses that seemed to contain any sort of life because they were the only two that were decorated.

  The house on the far left was decorated with U.S. Army emblems. An emblem was placed on each window and two flags hung from the porch; one American flag and one Army flag.

  The house next to it was the only house with a fence that was painted. In this case, it was white. Sitting on the front lawn was what John considered to be a decoration due to the fact that the rest of the houses had nothing. It was a small blue jet boat that sat in the front yard on a small trailer. John couldn’t disguise his confusion. He had never seen a small jet boat sitting in front of another person’s house like a decoration.

  This confusion was not missed by Hanson. “I know you probably have questions but let’s just say he’s a weird guy.” Hanson laughed as he spoke. “Let’s walk over there.” John and Hanson walked across the road and towards the houses. As they got closer, John saw a man sitting on the porch of the second house who he hadn’t seen before due to the jet boat. The man was older and had an intimidating look to him. He was silhouetted by the lights of the house and was looking straight at them. John got a strong sense of foreboding from the man.

  “Who’s that?” John asked.

  Hanson looked in the direction that John was looking and said, “That’s Tom Morrison, a retired sheriff from the N.Y.P.D. He’s old and paranoid. He’s always on his porch during my shift and always has information. He’s seventy-five years-old but has all of his mental faculties. We’ll talk to him first.”

  They walked through the front gate. The old man continued to stare at them intently but didn’t say anything. Being closer to him gave John a better view of him. He was an old, thin man. The porch light shined on his bald head.

  “Do you ever go inside, Tom?” Hanson asked with a laugh.

  Morrison, on the other hand, didn’t laugh. “What do you expect me to do, Hanson; curl up in front of the T.V. and do nothing?” He retorted in a mean and grainy voice. “I’d much rather watch the real world instead of the pretend world on television.”

  “Not much to see in this town, Tom, you should know that,” Hanson said.

  “Maybe not to you,” Morrison snarled. “People like you never take the time to look around and see how much the real world has to offer.”

  “Fair enough,” Hanson said, looking to end the discussion. “Do you mind answering a few questions?”

  “You should know by now that I’m open to questions,” Morrison responded in the same mean attitude. Hanson was apparently used to this attitude as he ignored it easily.

  “This is Mr. John Robinson,” He began, pointing to John. “He’s here searching for his wife who has gone missing. He believes that she’s here in our town. Have you seen any unusual activity today?”

  He then took out the picture that John had given him and showed it to Morrison. “Very pretty young lady,” he said, his tone softening a little. “The only activity I’ve seen today came from that rich prick up the hill,” he said. John looked up the hill. It was actually visible from where they were standing.

  John could see that it was a big two story house but could not tell it’s color. It was silhouetted by the moonlight, which was also visible from where they stood.

  “He’s been in and out all day,” Morrison explained further.

  “Well, he’s a store owner, so that could happen,” Hanson reasoned, clearly not happy that Hunt’s name was mentioned so quickly.

  “Anyone else?” Hanson asked hopefully.

  “No, other than meeting someone new in Mr. Robinson over here.” Morrison said sarcastically.

  Hanson shook his head with irritation and walked away. John, confused, followed him. “Let’s talk to Mary. Hopefully, she can give us something.” He said irritably.

  “Who’s Mary?” John asked, trying to keep up with Hanson.

  Hanson stopped, took a breath and calmed down, then he began to explain. “Mary Stanton is a widow who moved here a few years ago. Her husband was a Colonel in the Army. He was killed overseas. She’s pretty much set for life because he left her a lot of money but was emotionally scarred from what had happened. They moved here together a few years ago and she decided to stay here after his death. She only leaves her house to go grocery shopping. She’s very sensitive, so I’ll have to be very careful with what I say.”

  He then knocked on the door. “Who is it?” Said a light, young voice from inside the house.

  “It’s Officer Hanson dear, just have to ask you a few questions,” Hanson replied.

  There was a moment of silence on the other end. Then they heard her fumbling with the lock. The door then opened slightly. “What is it Officer Hanson?”

  “Hi, hon, can you please step outside for a second?” he asked kindly.

  She hesitated but then eventually opened the door. She was much younger than John was expecting. She only appeared to be in her late twenties. She was a very pretty, hazel eyed, brunette woman. She had a very short and petite build to her. It was very hard for John to imagine a beautiful woman like her living alone in distress.

  “Thank you, hon. I just have a few questions for you,” Hanson explained. Mary nodded but her rather blank expression didn’t change as her eyes roamed from Hanson to John on several occasions. “This is Mr. Robinson and he’s here looking for his wife who has gone missing. He believes that she is here in Tuxton.” Hanson handed Mary the photograph of Amber. “Have you seen her or any unusual activity today?”

  Mary’s eyes lingered on the photograph of Amber, much longer then John was expecting. She was actually staring at it rather intently and stared back Hanson. John was actually anxious as it looked like she might have seen something. However, the answer that came out of her mouth was, “No, I haven’t.” John’s spirits plummeted.

  In fact, Hanson slouched a bit as well, expressing his disappointment. “You’re sure that nothing unusual has happened today?”

  “I’m sure.” Mary assured them and was already walking back inside. “Sorry, I couldn’t be of any help to you,” she said quickly and closed the door.

  “What was all of that about?” John asked, stunned.

  “That’s just how she is,” Hanson replied. “She’s very anti-social.” He walked off of the porch and back towards the street. Once there he shouted, “Son of a bitch!”

  “What’s the matter?” John asked.

  “I really wish she had given us something. Now all I have is Morrison’s statement, which leads to that asshole up there,” he shouted, indicating to Hunt up the hill.

  “Well, let’s go talk to him then.” John said. He was feeling a little impatient.

  “NO,” Hanson shouted, unexpectedly losing his temper. John was shocked into silence. “Listen to me, I’m going to level with you. Questioning Hunt or accusing him could cost me my job.”

  “Why is that?” John asked curiously.

  Hanson stopped himself for a second and took a few deep breaths to calm himself. “A couple of years ago I falsely accused him of committing a crime he didn’t. He’s a very powerful man and I ran his name through the mud. My captain wasn’t happy. I have specifically been told not to deal with him. One more false accusation and I end up on the unemployment line.”

  “But he’s the only name we’ve been given,” John said, his desperation growing by the second. Amber was somewhere and he needed to find her. That was his only goal.

  “I know”, Hanson snapped. He thought to himself for a bit. “Let’s go back to the office. I think I know how to solve this.”

  Hanson remained silent for the entire walk back. Once they got there and were seated, he finally explained himself. “Okay, it’s going to be ten in an hour, and that’s when my shift gets off. Replacing me is another officer, Ken Sparks. He gets along slightly better with Hunt than I do. You can go up there with him.”

  This inf
uriated John. “THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH! That’s an hour away. My wife is out there somewhere and the only name we get you won’t question because you’re afraid of him!”

  Hanson combatted this by standing up and giving a glare of anger that actually silenced John. “I told you to trust me. I do want to help you very much. But I’m not going to put my job on the line to falsely accuse someone. If you want help finding her, you are going to have to trust me, period.

  “Look, I’ve been doing this for twenty years and I’ve seen plenty of cases like yours. So I know what you’re going through. I also know that it’s tough for someone like you to hear someone like me say ‘be patient’ but that’s what I need to tell you now, be patient.”

  Hanson sank back down to end the conversation. John, while reluctant for the conversation to end, agreed and sat down as well.

  The room remained silent after that. The combination of the silence and the hours of wondering through the woods were actually starting to make John drowsy. He didn’t want to sleep but his body was not going to let him stay awake.

  The world became a blur as his eye lids became heavy. The colors from the room turned gray and then into complete blackness.

  Deep within the blackness, John knew he was standing on something. He didn’t know where he was until light began to shine through a set of cracks in the distance below him. The cracks formed a square, which told John that it was a door. The light shone on what he was standing on, which he realized was a set of stairs, which led to that door. He began to walk down the stairs and towards it.

  “NO!” He was stopped in his tracks by a woman screaming. A woman whom he knew instantly. Amber was screaming. “Leave me alone! John help!” Her screams pierced John’s ears like a knife to his heart, stabbing him repeatedly until it felt like his heart was going to stop; he panicked when he heard her.