Abe read:
After an extensive inquiry, including detailed case studies highlighted in the Enchiridion, and personal interactions with patients exhibiting psychic abilities and enhanced sensory abilities, it is my hypothesis that individuals develop psychic abilities after extreme trauma or illness during the postnatal years. Experiences of near death have been reported by more than seventy-five percent of patients with heightened psychic capacities.
The paper listed a dozen examples of patients with psychic abilities and their so-called near-death experiences.
To test this hypothesis, we have chosen Subject X (Spencer Arnold Crow) as the focus of analysis.
As Abe read, he sat up straighter, his eyes boring into the words, shaking his head at the cruelty detailed.
The doctor had been experimenting on Subject X - beginning at only six weeks old. The trials included immersion in water until he turned blue, long periods of blackout confinement with no extrasensory sights or sounds of any kind, and a list of drugs.
Each trial listed Subject X’s before and after blood pressure, heart rate, body temperature, and observed physical, mental, and emotional changes in the days following the experimentation.
As Abe read, he witnessed the downslide of young Crow’s health. His skin, noted at the start of the experiments as pink, was later recorded as yellow, and finally gray. The whites of his eyes were documented as bloodshot and cloudy. His behavior shifted from alert and playful to subdued and lethargic.
In a second file, Abe found a letter addressed to Byron Crow.
Byron,
I thought it prudent to write you a letter, as Hector’s increasing suspicions finds him home more and more, monitoring the telephone and my comings and goings. He is preoccupied with Spencer’s ill health and angry at my refusal to take him to a physician. I fear, my darling, that the time has come to take the next steps. How can I explain to my small-minded husband, the gravity of your work, our work? I leave it to you to secure the appropriate remedy. I shall do my best to bring Spencer to the sanitarium by week’s end, but I fear Hector will become inflamed and refuse my use of the car. If so, I will prepare Hector’s favorite meal for our family dinner on Sunday. I will rely on you to bring the special ingredient.
All my love,
V.C.
Abe studied the initials.
“Virginia Crow,” he murmured.
In the same file, Abe found a prescription for arsenic. A hand written note taped to the page stated: Lethal dose: 180 mg.
“Why is that in this file?” he asked, setting the paper aside, but as he gazed at the prescription, he understood.
Arsenic was the special ingredient for Virginia Crow’s family dinner.
Chapter 45
Abe
“She killed her husband, and experimented on her own son?” Hazel repeated the story back to Abe, her mouth hanging open.
“It appears that way,” he admitted.
“Let’s call the police,” Hazel insisted. “We found Orla’s earring. The Continental was in the garage. Ben is the guy. Maybe the Crows are in on it. What are we waiting for?”
Abe paced around the kitchen. He’d slept less than two hours the previous night, falling asleep at one a.m. only to awaken at three-eleven.
“It’s not enough.”
“Jesus, Abe! What do you need? A body in the back of Ben’s truck? I’m calling the police.”
“Wait,” Abe held up a hand. “I saw a shovel in Ben’s truck, and muddy boots in his room. I want to go to Elder Park and look around.”
“What? Why? You’ve already searched Elder Park, you-”
But he cut her off.
“When I saw that shovel, I knew he buried something there, Hazel. I knew it. We need something tangible for the police. That earring is not proof, and guess what? We found it by breaking and entering. In court, it would be inadmissible. The cops can’t pick Ben up based on an earring that might not be Orla’s, and a car one person spotted near the last abduction sight. Get it? We need more.”
“Fine!” Hazel huffed.
Calvin sat at the table, drinking his coffee and watching his angry girlfriend. Smartly, he didn’t intervene.
Bethany, too, watched the scene unfold from the doorway.
“You found Orla’s earring?” she asked in a small voice.
“I think so,” Hazel murmured.
“Exactly,” Abe exclaimed. “You think so. I’m going.”
Hazel started to follow him. Calvin stood and grabbed Hazel in a hug.
“Maybe you shouldn’t, honey.”
Hazel hugged Calvin hard, tucking her head beneath his chin.
“I have to, for Orla,” she whispered.
He pulled her away and kissed her.
“Do you want something for protection, Hazel? If this guy’s as bad as you two think…”
Abe waited impatiently but didn’t argue.
“Don’t give her anything that will get us into trouble,” Abe snapped.
“No, Calvin. I’ll be okay. Whether or not we find anything, we’re calling the police.” She didn’t look at Abe but spoke loud enough for him to hear.
She kissed Calvin a second time, gave Bethany a hug, and followed Abe out the door.
Hazel
“What are we looking for, Abe?” Hazel asked, following him on the trail at Elder Park.
“I want to see if there’s disturbed dirt…”
“Like what? A fresh grave?” Hazel asked, horrified, and also irritated with Abe’s insistence on searching.
Abe glanced back but offered nothing to reassure her.
They scoured the woods for an hour. Abe stopped every time he noticed a bare spot in the grass or a decaying log.
“Abe, there’s nothing,” Hazel said.
She watched him digging, his hands deep in the muddy earth, sweat speckling his forehead. He looked frantic, his eyes intent on the hole.
“Abe!”
“There might be,” he muttered, not looking at her.
“Abe, it’s time to stop.”
He grabbed a handful of mud and flung it back down hard. It splattered his face and clothes. When he glanced at her, she saw his eyes glistening, as if he’d been on the verge of tears. He replaced the look with a scowl and stood, brushing off his pants, which only smeared the mud across his thighs.
“I don’t need your help, Hazel. Here.” He dug his keys from his pocket and tossed them to her.
She didn’t catch them, and they landed on the ground near her feet.
He returned to his knees and reached deep into the hole flinging the mud away.
“Fine,” she said. She picked up the keys and walked angrily back down the trail.
In her mind, she argued with him, unleashed her opinions on his dogged searching. Why hadn’t they called the police? What could they do if they found something?
Gazing at the trail, she skimmed over the grass, the weeds rising on either side.
She almost missed it - a ridge in the otherwise untroubled earth. She scrutinized the ground, walking closer. A pattern emerged, a rough circle, as if someone had dug up a piece of the grass and then dropped it back in place.