“There was no way we could have found her in time. We weren’t able to get any hits on his location. But what we can do is head over to the old church again. My hunch says that the pastor knows more than he’s giving us. You’re driving.” Monroe walks ahead to the passenger side of my door.
We arrive at the old church at about six in the morning. Maybe we should have waited until decent hours as I highly doubt anyone will be up at this hour. Low and behold, the pastor steps out from the chapel as if he was waiting for our arrival. We park the car and walk up to meet him.
“Officers, do you know what time it is? What calls for this early visit?” The pastor crosses his hands, stopping in front of us giving us a stern look.
“We have a few questions about one of the people who attends your church, Oliver Stetson.” I get straight to the point.
“Did he get into some trouble? He’s a good man, a littlemisunderstood but a good man.” His face morphs into concern.
His body shifts uncomfortably. I make note of it and store it in the back of my head. There’s more he knows but it seems he would die on a hill before giving it to us.
“We cannot give any details about the case but his name came across our desk and we noticed that he attends your church.”
“Why, because the poor boy has schizophrenia? You know, the Lord does not judge those with illnesses, so you shall not judge him either. He’s peaceful. I suggest you find someone else to question.” His demeanor changes, which brings up more red flags.
Ah, so protective of this newcomer and no doubt going to try to use his condition against us or even file a complaint so we can’t look into him any further.
“We never indicated that he did anything wrong, we’re just wanting to learn about someone who arrived here not too long ago. It appears you two are close and your cooperation would be very helpful. Let me make things very clear, we don’t judge someone based on their illness. Who’s to say that we even knew about it?” I fire back a little too aggressively but something about this man just gets under my skin.
I take a moment to reel it back in. The Pastor takes a step back, as if I’m the predator about to attack. Yeah, he’s really not going to give us anything now.
“He’s new to the community but he pulls his weight. He helps get the church ready for service, helps with harvesting for the community. He keeps to himself and hardly talks to anyone but myself. He’s very religious and follows the old Bible texts. I don’t believe that he’s your guy. He can’t even handle the butchering of the sheep without getting sick.” He slowly relaxes as he gives us a little bit of information.
It’s as if speaking about this person gives him so much peace and comfortability. Yet, there’s people in this little community who feel differently.
“Does he have a job or live near here? We couldn’t find anything in the records,” Monroe speaks up as she's writing down notes on her notepad.
“Not that I’m aware of. He lives here in the community and earns his keep here in exchange for the cottage he lives in. Ah, speaking of. Oliver, son, come meet these lovely officers.”
A man comes to stand by the pastor's side, standing at five foot ten, with a little hunch in his back. He has greasy brown hair, big circular glasses, dirty work shirt and jeans. He avoids eye contact with us and his hands are fidgeting with some sort of cloth in his hand. His body language appears nervous and like at any second he’ll make a break for it.
“Oliver, they’re here in regards to some sort of case they are working on. You’re not in any kind of trouble, but I would answer any questions they have so they’ll leave you alone.” He places a hand on Oliver’s back trying to reassure him.
He gives a curt nod, glancing up at us from the rim of his glasses. The man has bags under his eyes from lack of sleep and a cross dangles from his neck.
“Mr. Stetson, where were you last night-early morning between the time of eleven and two AM?” I ask while monitoring his body behavior.
His hand shakes with nerves. When he notices that I’m looking down and watching his hands, he claps them together to gain better control of them.
“Uhm, s-sir, I was at m-my home at those times. I-It's fairly early to be up at those kinds of hours. I-I wake up at five to start my morning tasks,” he stutters as he explains his whereabouts.
“Is there anyone who can confirm you were home?” Monroe follows up.
His eyes gravitate to Monroe, seeming to be taken back by her interjection. I don’t miss the look of disgust before his mask slides back on. Not a fan of female authority, I see.
“N-No, ma’am. I-I live alone d-down by the crick. Y-You’re welcome t-to have a l-look around.” He rubs his hands up and down his arms looking toward the direction where I would assume is his cottage.
Before responding, a curtain pulls aside from a nearby house. A woman peaks out to see what's going on. A part of me wonders if it's the one who called us earlier. As Oliver turns to look in her direction, the curtain closes abruptly.
“Not today, thank you, though. I think we have everything we need. Thank you. Sorry to disturb you.” I nod, turning my back, heading toward my car.
We sit in silence, taking the information in. My gut has a lump that’s twisting and turning as I go over the body language and everything that was presented to us. Something doesn’t seem right and my gut is never wrong. We don’t have a search warrant at this time so we can’t just go barging in looking for something to bring this guy in. Even though we had his permission to look around, something tells me that they’re the type of people to go back on their word and report us to stop us from further investigating. Monroe has to be thinking the same thing; she’s also unnaturally quiet.
We head to our desks deep into thought, sitting at our desks staring at the blank screen of our computers. For one, I’m stuck and hoping we get something back from the autopsy to help us out. That will take a couple days for the report to come back, even with a rush on it. My phone chimes, breaking me out of my trance.
Celeste: I landed home safely. Are we still good for tonight?
Me: I’m glad you’re home safe. Yes, we most definitely are. Seeing your beautiful face will be the highlight of my day. I need it.
