The Whistle

Chapter 2

Chapter two

November 9th, 1970: Sunday, 9 am

All day Saturday, I study my files in the home office. The whistler sure is a sneaky threat, but where would he strike next? I lose track of time as I tune into my files and do not realize that Saturday has come to an end and Sunday has begun. Maria lightly knocks on the office door as I scramble to hide my papers.

She opens the door and adjusts her robe, "darling, let's go to church. Darla next door said that the sermon was very heartwarming and encouraging last week when she went. So, I think we should go." I agree with her with little hesitation, I need to go to church to listen to the sermon to ease my mind.

"Okay, Maria we'll go. Have Timothy get ready and I'll take out Tucker before we leave," I say as I leave my seat with my files spread across the desk. I tuck in the chair and leave the room, trying to avoid the giant blackboard where pictures of the victims were. Across the board were connecting red pieces of yarn that linked several different objects to each other. Objects like toys and notes left behind by the murderer. I cannot resist, I come to a stop and stare at the note that read:

At first comes a warning. A nightmare; something that cannot be controlled. I can't help myself.

I stare at the center of the board, where a blank photo card with the label, "Whistler" stares back at me. All I can hear is a faint whistle.

Leaving the office, I make sure to lock the door behind me. I cannot risk Timothy walking in on all of this shit. It will destroy his childhood, give him nightmares. I cannot risk that trauma. I walk up the stairs, each step feeling heavier than the one before. I am exhausted and I know that I have spent the entire night studying those files, I did not have a wink of sleep.

Once I arrive at my bedroom, I open the closet doors searching for my best suit. I put on my gray slacks, a white buttoned top, and a gray matching jacket. Tucking in my shirt, I look at myself in the mirror. I look dreadful, I need a shower. I have bags under my eyes and my hair is starting to gray. I rip off my clothes and take a shower, releasing my stress through the steam and washing away my worries in Irish Spring.

Driving the red station wagon over rolling hills, where cows and horses graze in the sun. My emotions overcome me in the most relaxing sensation. I could feel the weight on my shoulders lift and disappear as the sun rays shine through the window landing on my skin. It was therapeutic the feeling of the sun on a cold winter morning. Canopying trees hang low and leaves with hues of brown, red, and green shuffle across the backroads as we make our way over to Church Evergreen.

"The weatherman said that we should expect snow next week," Maria says in delight.

"Did you hear that, Timothy? another chance to beat me in a snow ball fight." I look in the rearview mirror at Timothy who is looking out the window at the grazing cattle to his right.

"You're on!" He says competitively as his head nearly snaps off of his neck in the process.

We arrive just before nine in the morning; the small white church can hold 150 people without an issue. Of course, 150 seems like a lot for a small town like Church Hill. As we head toward the doors of the church, the pastor greets people at the entrance with kind words and blessings. My colleague, Sheriff Dunn in his uniform quickly brushes past the people waiting in line, straight lining for me.

"Adams! We have an issue," he says abruptly. He is out of breath and his patrol car is nearby with the lights revolving in blue and red.

"What is it, Sheriff Dunn?" I ask curiously as my wife approaches from behind, touching my shoulder softly.

"I'd rather tell you on the way Detective," he says looking around as his presence begins to gain the attention of onlookers.

"Go!" Maria looks at me with weary eyes, "It must be important darling."

I nod in the direction of Sheriff Dunn and follow him to his patrol car.

"What happened Sheriff?" I ask. With no response from my colleague I continue, "It's my boy's birthday weekend, as y'know and I have requested the rest of the weekend off." There is still no comment from my colleague as we approach his vehicle. I open the passenger side door and climb in while Sheriff Dunn quickly jogs over to the driver's side door, opening it forcefully he utters something under his breath.

"I didn't catch what you said Sheriff—" interrupting me he repeats.

"It's going to be a long day detective" he says with an expression I have not seen before. Slamming the door next to him, I know something is wrong. I know that whatever this is, he is right, it is going to be a long day.

"What happened Sheriff?" I ask cautiously, already regretting my decision to ask.

"There's been another multiple person homicide" he says staring at me coldly. I gasp in shock at the sudden news.

"Where?" I demand looking at him. I can feel a bead of sweat forming at my left temple. There is silence as he stares at me with water filling his eyes. "Where Dillon, where?" Dillon Dunn was quiet; I didn't like it. I want to know answers now. The bead of sweat turns into multiple beads as my eyes strain staring down my companion.

"There's been a murder of a young family here in Church Hill."

"Church Hill! What, Is it the—the whistler?" I ask fearing the answer I will get.

"I don't know, it doesn't follow the same pattern as before" he says scratching his cheek.

"What do you mean?"

"Like the other murders, there's a child missing. A family was murdered, two women and a man. But the way that they were killed..." He says looking down toward his hands in his lap with his face turning green in repulse.

"Where in Church Hill Sheriff?" I ask hesitantly. He looks over toward me, raising his head slowly. When his eyes reach mine, he says the one place I never expected him to say.

"Helm. They were murdered in Helm."