Chasing the Monsters: 60

"So, what do ya suggest we do?"  Timothy asked Jack, who was still as unkempt as the Irishman had found him.

"The only proof is that we have his voice on tape.  But I did not recognize it."  Jack Ribsky said.  "It's not Ben."

"Well, it can be that it wasn't Ben on the tape?  Perhaps he just knew about it, or gave the order?"

"Maybe.  We don't really have much to go on."

"What do we know?"

"Molly's boss told her to transfer the call.  Someone gave her boss that order.  A man told Todd to hide in the shed on the tape.  Connie mentions Peter had a friend named Ben who was a cop.  Ben Miller was my partner, he was working on the force at the time."

"Only one thing to do, really, then.  Ya have to talk to Ben."

"I know, could be tough.  Haven't seen him in years.  He moved away, some years back.  Would be in his early 70s now."

"Time flies," Timothy said.

"Doesn't it?"

"Yes, it does.  My grandson, Ray, is almost going to school.  I can't believe it."

"Family is important."

"Like yours?  They went through burying Pamela without ya."

"I . . . lost track, I told you."

"I've been there, Mate.  Ya have to mourn."

"Not necessarily," he said.  "Not now, at least.  Something has to be done first."

"All right, Man, then where do we start?"  He gave up for the moment on getting Ribsky to deal with his loss.

"I'll try and track him, put some feelers out.  Find out when he moved, and where he might be."

"Was he married?"

"Yep.  Always dressed her in the finest."

"Hmf.  Use y'ar police contacts?"

"Likely the only way.  Of course, finding him is not the difficult part.  Getting to him and getting proof or admission, that's the hard piece of this."

"Sounds like a tough job."

"I'll need help, someone to back me up."

"I'm at y'ar service.  This is my son's life."

Ribsky put out his hand, "Partners?"

"Sure and begorrah."

***

"Looks like the tykes are all napping," the nun said.

"Yes, except for the ones at school," Bitsy smiled.

"Well, they might be napping, but we can't tell from here!"  Both women laughed.  After the laughter died down, Sister Rebecca Katherine removed her veil and let her graying, curly hair free.  She said, "Let's go sit outside.  Bring the baby monitor, eh?"

"Of course," Bitsy said, grabbing it and her cardigan.  The two women went outside in the back of the house, with the monitor in hand.  They parked themselves on the lounge chairs on the patio, after dragging them into the sunlight first.  

Both sat back and sighed.

Bitsy spoke first.  "It's beautiful out here.  My son has done a beautiful job making a home for the Mannings."

"He has.  Bea, a few years back, sometimes it felt as though it would never happen for them."

"Was it difficult, Sister?"

"Yes.  The lad has been through so much.  It's amazing to see him at his point, with five children now, and a secure home.  It's been a long haul for them, it has."

"He's strong.  I knew he was strong since he was a baby.  He had this inner strength.  It made everything worthwhile to see it in his little face."  Sister Rebecca Katherine couldn't help but choke up a bit hearing Bea's explanation about her son.  The woman continued, "I was mentally ill, but I think I'd been driven there by Peter's abuse of me.  Whatever it is, I'm all right now, but I still feel the guilt for not getting my son away from him."

"There's nothing ya can do.  It's over and done.  Ya can't go back."

"No, I can't."  She looked out over the yard.  The gazebo in the distance gave the lawn a fairytale look.  "I wish I could, though.  And I wish I could get certain thoughts out of my mind."

"Do ya want to share, Dear Bea?"

"It's . . . well, it's about Mitch, Sister."

"Ah, yes.  I was wondering about that, Dear."  She couldn't camouflage her feelings about the man.

"I trust you, Sister."

"I appreciate that, Bea."

"Well, Sister, he hasn't left my dreams."

"I see," she said.

"He's still there.  Almost every night.  I . . . don't know how to stop it.  Sometimes I think  if I saw him and told him everything I have to say about what he did to my son, maybe it would close that door."

"Maybe."

"I know Todd would never let me."

"First, Todd is not y'ar master, y'ar the master of y'arself.  And second, I don't know if ya realize what y'ar saying.  I've heard about him.  The story chilled me to my bones.  The things he did, to Todd, and Blair, and the children."

Bitsy looked straight ahead.  "It makes me a bad person, then, doesn't it?"

"No, I wouldn't say so.  Y'ar confused.  Ya remember him one way, and . . ."

"And he's actually another.  He . . . buried my son alive.   How can that be true, Sister?"

She turned to her, now sitting with her legs over the side of the lounge chair.  "Dear, it is true.  That's what's real.  He did these things."

"Then he has to be told how wrong he is.  I have to see his face, for myself, when I tell him I know what he is."

The nun became silent and swung her legs back onto the lounge chair.  She realized that nothing would be sealed for Bitsy until she did see and face Mitch, as he really was.  The problem was, how?  Todd would never support it, and she also wondered if her dear Bea was too fragile to withstand facing the truth.

***

"What are you doing, Squirt?"  Jack said.  They had just gotten home and been there for less than an hour.  

They hadn't even alerted Grandma Bitsy and Sister Rebecca Katherine that they were home.  Jack had gone directly to his room to find the missing project paper that he somehow inadvertently left home, or else, email it to the teacher immediately.  

Sam had gone to his room as well and checked back on his laptop.  No message from Houdini, and when he clicked his name, it showed an error, "no such user."  That was when Jack appeared at the door.  "I said, what are you doing, Squirt?"

"I was just checking."

"I told you, the Zeus thing is over, Dad will take care of it."

"I took care of it.  Me."

"Puny, what do you mean?"  Jack asked, and watched his brother plop on the bed with a baseball glove and start breaking it in.

"I'm not Puny, Jack.  I'm . . . growing up."

"Okay," he said, plunking down next to his brother.  "What did you mean?"

"I told him, Zeus.  I told him I don't want to talk to him anymore or live with him."

"Why didn't you just tell him that before?"

"I . . . don't know.  I was too scared then, I guess.  And plus, when Dad got upset, I just didn't want him to be mad."

"Dad got upset?"

"Yeah, Jack.  Remember?  He went off to get Zeus.  He probably thinks I don't know, but he wants to beat him up or something.  So, I just have to wait, because I told Zeus to make Dad call me right away."

"You knew he was going to Greece?"

"Yep."  Sam kept throwing the baseball into the pocket of the glove.  "He thinks I don't know what happened, but I do.  He was thinking of his father.  He kind of got confused."

Jack marveled at Sam's perception of things.  He said, "How do you know that?"

"We were looking at the trunk.  The one that Dad got from his house when he was little.  We were going through it, and I messed up."

"How?"

"I told him about when Zeus locked me in the trunk to teach me a lesson."

The hair on the back of Jack's neck stood up for a moment, as he thought of what his father was probably associating that with, and he said, "It's not your fault.  Dad's been through a lot of stuff."

"Bad stuff?"

"Yep."

"I don't like that."

"Me neither.  But it happened."

"Well, I took care of it, that's all.  Dad doesn't even have to. I'll bet Mom just goes there to tell Dad to come back."

"Yeah, that's it," Jack said.

"Jack?  I don't want Dad to leave us.  And I don't want him to go crazy."

"What made you say that?"

"I don't know.  Just that, well, when bad stuff happens to people a real lot, can't they go crazy?"

Jack swallowed, and then took the glove from Sam.  "Let's go outside."

"No, Jack.  Tell me." 

Sam was as serious as he'd ever been.  He wasn't whiney or even afraid.  He was growing up.

"People can, sure.  Dad's not.  Now, let's go."  He stood up, walking to the door.  "You coming, Puny?"

"Yeah, I'm coming."  He closed the laptop.  

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