DEVIL'S JUDGMENT The Trial of Lucas Buck By J. Douglas Burton ___________________________ TRINITY, SOUTH CAROLINA, 1977 Jennifer stamped her feet again in a vain attempt to keep warm. It was a chilly winter night and she was waiting all alone. Waiting for him to arrive. She was afraid. She had a pretty good idea of what this was about and she didn't like it. How did he find out? It couldn't have been from Sally could it? Sally was her best friend - she would never have told him. She brushed her long blonde hair back out of her eyes once again. There was the noise of a twig snapping in the trees behind her. Jennifer turned round to see a man's silhouette against the full moon. She squinted. "Lucas?" she called, quietly. "Is that you?" The young sheriff stepped out from the shade. He was wearing his brown vest with the star which shone brightly in the moonlight. "Who else?" he asked. Jennifer let out a relieved breath. "I wasn't sure." Lucas walked towards the young woman. "Don't do this, Jennifer. Trust me, it's not a good idea." She turned away. How did he know? "I don't know what you're talking about," she said, unconvincingly. "Sure you do." He pulled her chin up lightly with his steady hand. "I can't let you. You know I can't." Jennifer's mood darkened. "Why not?" "I can't be held responsible for the consequences." "Damn your laws!" she said suddenly, ripping the star from Lucas' vest. "And damn you!" Lucas Buck just stared at her. "It's too late for that." A shadow crossed the face of the moon. TRINITY, SOUTH CAROLINA, 1995 The early morning silence was abruptly broken as the bulldozer started with a growl like that of a hungry lion. With a reluctant grunt it started forward, moving to devour the land in front of it. Jimmy Cooper loved his job. It was his chance to do what he loved best - destroy. He would plow up the earth in front of him, preparing the way for advancement. The destruction of nature for the development of modern society. God, it was great! This portion of land, just outside a forest, was to become a housing estate for the wealthier part of Trinity's modest population. It was perfect - on the outskirts of town, a view of nature (Jim knew the rich community appreciated the view although for the life of him he never understood) and Jim got to prepare it. "Whoah! Wait a minute!" It was Jim's supervisor. "Stop the engine!" he yelled, running toward the machine. Wondering what the hell was going on, Jim turned off the engine. The roar faded to a whisper, then disappeared completely. "What's the problem?" Jim shouted down. The supervisor wasn't listening. He was staring at the patch of land directly behind Jim's vehicle. Some of the other workers were making their way up, too. "Come on, what's the hold up?" Jim yelled exasperatedly, climbing down to get a better view. "Man, what is your......" Jim stopped short in mid-sentence. He was looking at what he'd uncovered. There, in the ground before him, was a skeleton. "What's this all about?" Deputy Ben Healy had just arrived on the scene. He had received a call just five minutes ago and driven here as quickly as possible. Even in Trinity bodies were rarely dug up by construction workers. "There's been a body found?" "Yes, sir," said John Brennan, one of Ben's men. "It was freed by a bulldozer while clearing the area for the new estate." Ben looked around. "Is the foreman here?" "Yeah, I'll get him." The man went off to find the foreman. There were already several police officers here and a few onlookers attracted by the commotion. Ben didn't need this now. Where was Lucas, anyhow? "Uh, sir?" came a voice from behind Ben's back. Ben turned to see a small balding man with a hardhat in his hands. "I'm the foreman. You wanted to see me?" Ben could here the tremble in his voice. Poor guys must have been pretty shook up. "Yeah, could you tell me what happened? Exactly." The man turned the hat nervously in his hands. "Yes, sir. It's like I told your man over there: Jim was just clearin' the land when I spotted somethin' pokin' up from the ground. As soon as I recognized what it was, I called to Jimmy to stop. I didn't want the bulldozer goin' back over the site and destroyin' any evidence." "Good thinking, Mister...." The foreman smiled slightly, recognizing the attempt to raise his confidence. "Robertson. Greg Robertson." "Okay, Mister Robertson. What did you do next?" "Well sir," he began, "we didn't touch the bones or nothin'. After I was sure that's what it was, I called the station right quick." Ben looked for young Brennan. "Thanks, Mister Robertson. If I need anything else, I'll come back and question you again, okay?" "Sure." The man just stood twisting his hardhat. Ben left him standing there and caught up with Brennan. "Where's the body?" "Right over here." John led Ben up to the site where the earth was torn up and tree roots stuck up from the ground. Among the roots, Ben saw a stick jutting out that was a lot whiter than the rest. He quickly realized that was the forearm that Bobby Robertson had seen when he stopped the bulldozer from running over the scene. He made his way over there. "We've just finished uncovering it completely," John informed his boss. "We tried not to disturb it too much." Ben Healy bent down to get a good look at the skeleton. It had obviously been buried here hastily, but had been here for a long time. They'd have to get the mortician (what was his name again, Wethers?) to determine just how long ago the body was put here. It was free of flesh and had a few remnants of cloth still clinging to it. At least that was something. They might be able to tell something from that. Ben spotted something gleaming in the chest cavity of the skeleton and reached in. "What you got there, Ben?" Ben started. He turned round to see Lucas Buck bending over to see what he was doing. "Geez, Lucas, don't do that!" Lucas patted his deputy on the back. "Sorry, Ben. Didn't mean to scare you. Who's the stiff?" Ben turned back, twiddling something in his fingers. "Looks like a female," he was guessing here but it looked like the tatters of a dress, "in her, I don't know, twenties?" "Pretty girl. Your date tonight?" Ignoring his immediate superior, Ben stood up. Lucas followed suit. He held up the object in his hand. "It's a bullet." "Yup. Looks like it." "Brennan!" Ben called. The young man came over. "Take this. And put it in one of those little bags." Lucas looked hard at Ben. "You think that could be important, Ben?" "Lucas, it's a bullet!" he exclaimed. "It was laying in the chest cavity. It's probably what killed this poor girl!" "Probably." Suddenly, Lucas added, "You think you can handle this case on your own, Ben?" Surprised, the deputy lifted his face to meet Lucas's. "Well, I could use your help." Lucas shook his head. "I think I'll let you handle this one. See how you do." After a moment, Ben squatted back down next to the skeleton. He began feeling the bones. When he got to the skull, he made a small exclamation. Turning the head carefully around, he saw a metal object sticking out of the back, deeply embedded in the bone. He bent even closer. It was dirty and worn but it looked like... yes, it was definitely a badge. Just like the kind sheriffs wear. He examined the back of the badge. Inscribed on the back were the words: "Property of Sheriff Lucas Buck." Ben raised his head. Lucas killed this woman. He saw John Brennan standing beside him, mouth wide open. Damn, the boy had seen it. Ben couldn't let this one slide. What was he supposed to do? The only thing he could do, he decided. Ben stood up. "Lucas," he started, not quite looking the sheriff in the eye. "I'm afraid you're gonna have to come with me." Lucas almost smiled. "Come on, Ben. You can't be serious. I couldn't do something like this." In his mind, Ben saw that horrible scene: He was looking in the window of the Temple household. There had been some commotion. There, he saw Lucas holding little Merlyn's head in his arms. Then without warning, Lucas snapped her neck like a twig. Ben stared in horror. That's all he did. "I'm sorry, Lucas but can you explain this?" he indicated the badge which could clearly be seen protruding from the dead woman's skull. Lucas shook his head. "No, Ben. I can't." Deputy Ben Healy looked around at the few people who were standing around, then turned back to Lucas. "Then I'm afraid I have to take you in." He grabbed his boss's arm. "Come on." "No." Lucas gently pulled away. "If we're gonna do this, we're gonna do it, right." He looked down at Ben's belt. Ben glanced down to see his handcuffs hanging from it. "Come on, Lucas. Don't do this." "I don't want there to be any doubt about what you're doing here." Shaking his head, Ben reluctantly slipped his handcuffs around Lucas's outstretched hands. "Feel better?" "Let's go." Ben started towards the car. He suddenly realized something strange. Even in this situation, somehow Lucas had come out on top. Ben was the one who felt ashamed and embarrassed while Lucas was walking with his head held high. How the hell did that happen? "In you go," Ben carefully pushed Lucas's head down as he got into the car to avoid it being hit against the top of the door. He made his way around to the driver's side. It had seemed like a normal day this morning.... The door made a slight creak as Gail Emory entered the Sheriff's station. She had heard about Lucas's arrest and wanted to see for herself if all she had heard was true. More than anything she wanted to see that bastard humbled, slouched in a jail cell like the scum that he was. There was a fair amount of bustle in the room. Official uniforms all over the place. As much as she hated Lucas Buck, he knew how to organize his team. They were lost without him. All except Ben. He looked weary, certainly, from all the work he was handling but he wore it well. He was surprisingly unruffled, all things considered. She made her way up to the desk. Ben was on the 'phone and held up one finger to indicate that he would be with her in a minute. He was talking to someone important it sounded like. In just twenty seconds or so, he hung up with a sigh. "What can I do for you Miss Emory?" he asked politely. She looked him right in the eye. "I want to see Lucas." Ben sighed again. "I'm sorry, Miss Emory, but I can't do that. He's not allowed any visitors." She placed her hands on Ben's desk. "Look I - " "No you look," he said with uncharacteristic force, "I've got a lot on my hands and I can't let everyone who has a grudge against Lucas interrupt my staff just to spit in his face!" Gail took a deep breath. "Hey," her tone softened, "I'm sorry." Ben touched her hand. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. It's just that, well, without Lucas, there's a lot of stuff to be done here and I don't know if my staff can handle it." "That's probably what he's counting on," she realized. "He's hoping that you'll just forget about all this because you need him." She looked at Ben. "You keep trying, you understand. Don't let him get the upper hand. Especially not now." Ben nodded. "Thanks." He straightened. " Is there anything I can do?" "What can you tell me about the case?" After a moment of deliberation, he pulled out a folder. He laid it on the desk and opened it, revealing photographs of the scene and some written work. "You can see," he began, "that the body is several years old. It had probably been down there for ten or twenty years." "That could make investigation a little difficult," Gail sympathized. Recognizing the empathy, Ben nodded. "Yup. About all we've got is that she was stabbed in the head with Lucas's badge and that that wasn't what killed her." "What did?" "She was shot. We found a bullet in the chest cavity. Probably point blank range. She was then buried quickly and left to rot." Gail began to think. "Have you 'ID'ed the body yet?" Turning over a page, Ben read: "Jennifer Hall. She had a very faded credit card in her pocket. That's all we could get. We're researching that right now." "Jennifer Hall...." Gail muttered. "I know that name..." Of course! "I think she knew my parents." Ben perked up. "You sure?" Nodding slowly, Gail answered, "I definitely recall hearing her name spoken. A number of times." She closed her eyes. She was seven. Her parents were arguing. Through the muffled sounds that made up most of the "conversation", Gail heard one name come through clearly. "Jennifer Hall," she mused. "She was the source of some discord.... that's all I can remember." "You want us to check it out?" Ben offered. "Yeah," Gail replied, tapping the desk with her index finger. "You do that." She turned to leave. "I'm going to see what I can dig up myself." "You be careful," Ben shouted after her. As the door shut, Ben saw Gail turn and wave to indicate that, of course, she always was. "Caleb?" Miss Holt called at the door. "Caleb, you in there?" There was no reply. "Caleb there's some dinner waiting for you downstairs." Still nothing. "Okay, but it's going to get cold." She decided that it would be best to leave him alone. The poor child. Caleb lay on his bed. He heard his guardian perfectly well, but didn't want to reply. He didn't want to see anyone. Especially not anyone who had any authority over him. As if on cue, the bright white light that signaled the arrival of his sister filled the room. "Not now, Merly," he sighed. "What's wrong, Caleb?" Merlyn Temple asked, worriedly, as she faded into view. "Nothin'." Caleb's reply was as short as his temper. Merlyn looked sad. "You can tell me, Caleb. I'm your sister." He looked up from his fetal position on the bed and frowned. "No you ain't. You used to be. You're dead." His sister, or the entity that formerly was his sister, made her way to the side of Caleb's bed. "Caleb," she said, authoritatively. "Sit up." Unable to ignore his dead sister when she spoke to him like that, he, reluctantly, complied. "Tell me what's the matter." Caleb looked away. "It's Lucas. He killed a woman." Gentle as ever, Merlyn looked down into Caleb's eyes, forcing them to meet hers. "How do you know that, Caleb." "What do you mean, how do I know?" he snapped. "Course he did it. Everybody says so." "Not everybody, Caleb. Just the people you talk to." He frowned again. "What's that supposed to mean?" "It means," she said softly, "that just because Doctor Crower says something bad about your father," here Caleb scowled, "doesn't mean it's true." "He ain't my daddy!" Here eyes showing her sadness, Merlyn replied, "Yes, he is Caleb. And he is a part of you." "So what do you want me to do?" Caleb asked angrily. "Talk to him, Caleb. Find out his side of the story." She sat down beside him. "Lucas is part of you. To learn about him is to learn about yourself. To resist something you must first understand it. Caleb," she tried to touch him but couldn't, "don't be afraid to reveal the darkness in your own soul. Once it is exposed to the light, darkness no longer exists." Caleb's expression softened. "Is she there with you, Merly? The dead woman?" Merlyn's face saddened. "No, Caleb. I'm afraid she's not." His eyes widened. "Did she go... you know. To the other place?" "That's not for you to know, Caleb. Not for anyone to know but her." "Merly..." Caleb started, but it was too late. His sister had already disappeared from view. "Merly, I need you...." "Yes?" the old woman's face peeked out from behind the door, opened only as far as the chain would allow. Gail recognized the face immediately. "Mrs. Connors?" she asked. The old woman eyed her suspiciously, one hand brought up to massage her wrinkled face in thought. "Who are you?" To the point, thought Gail. "I'm Gail Emory," she introduced herself. "Do you remember me? I lived next door to you, oh, fifteen, twenty years ago." After a moment, the woman's face broadened in recognition. It took a while for the old brain to get working, but once it did, her memory was as good as it ever had been. "Of course, Gail! How are you?" Before Gail could reply, Mrs. Connors had shut the door to undo the chain. In a moment, it was open again. "I haven't seen you in years, child. Not since that terrible accident." Even that small mention brought back the memories. The fear. The loneliness. Forget about it, Gail, she told herself. This is important. Got to get a grip. "Yes." Gail smiled politely. "Can I talk to you for a moment?" "Of course," came the reply. "Come on in." Accepting with a smile, Gail stepped through the door. The house was decorated mostly in pink. The carpet was worn and had obviously not been vacuumed in some time. Mrs. Connors led her through to the living room, where Gail sat down on a tattered couch opposite her old neighbor, who was seated on a wooden chair. There were a few old photographs hanging framed on the wall and some more on the mantlepiece. Many of them depicted the Connors family and Gail recognized the younger Mrs. Connors in one or two. Time had not been incredibly kind to Gail's former next-door neighbor. Years of loneliness will do that to a person. "What did you want to talk to me about?" the lady inquired. Gail leaned forward. "I know this was a long time ago, but do you remember my parents knowing a woman called Jennifer Hall? It could be important." Mrs. Connors squinted, deep in thought. "Hall? Hmmmmm." For a moment or two, Gail thought she had fallen asleep, but the old woman's eyes opened suddenly. "Of course!" she exclaimed. "Jennifer was your father's secretary." Here was something. "His secretary? At the Guardian?" "Yes," she continued. "I remember now. When the Guardian became more popular, Peter found himself with a much bigger workload. He hired himself a secretary. She stayed on for a few months." "Does anything else come to mind? Anything at all that could be the least bit important." "Not a thing child," she said, shaking her head. "She didn't stay too long. After a short time working for your father, she left town." "Do you know why?" Gail asked. "I'm afraid not." She sat up straighter. "However, you could ask Philip Johnson. He knew your parents better than I did." "Do you know where he lives?" "I'm sure I have it written down here somewhere." Mrs. Connors got up and went over to a small desk that sat in the corner of the room. She rummaged around in the top drawer and produced a piece of paper which she waved in the air. "Here it is." She made her way over to where Gail was seated and handed it over. "My Christmas card list." Gail examined the piece of paper. She recognized none of the names but Philip's, which she took down, along with his address, on her notepad. Standing up, she returned the list. "Thank you very much, Mrs. Connors," she told the woman. "I'm sorry I couldn't stay to chat but I really have to get going." "I understand," the kindly old woman said as she followed Gail to the door. "Just make sure and stop by again some time." Gail smiled. "I will," she said, actually meaning it. "Good-bye and thanks again!" Mrs. Connors waved as the girl she knew so many years ago drove off into the distance. My, they grow up so fast...... "Yes, sir. Right away, sir." Ben hung up the 'phone. It was a very busy day. "Hey, Brennan!" "Yes?" the young man replied, stepping up to the desk. "Get on over to Ross Crompton's place and talk to him. See what you can do with him." "Right away." He nodded and walked out the door. "Floyd!" Ben called. "Yeah?" came the answer from behind him. Ben jumped. "Uh, Floyd, how's the analysis of that bullet we found comin' along?" Floyd shook his head. "We still ain't got the results back. I don't know when they're s'pposed to be comin' in." "Great." A thought came to Ben. "Floyd, get a team together. We'll get a warrant and let you search Lucas' place." Floyd's face grew white. "You got a problem with that, Floyd?" Floyd shook his head, wide-eyed. "Uh, no sir." "Good, 'cause this could be important," Ben told his fellow deputy. "I know it's been a long time but I get the feelin' we might just find somethin' Lucas has been hidin' all these years. Anything, you got it?" Floyd simply nodded again. "Now," Ben continued, "let's see what we can do about gettin' that warrant." Floyd walked quickly away. Turning back to his desk, Ben was startled to see Caleb standing there. "How'd you get in here, boy?" "Same way as anyone else." Caleb indicated the doorway. "Through the door." "Well, son, you should probably leave. We're mighty busy in here today. Everyone's goin' crazy what with Lucas bein' put away and all." Caleb looked at his feet. "Did he do it, Ben? Did Lucas kill that woman?" Ben had hoped he wouldn't be put in this spot. Caleb was Lucas's son for Pete's sake. But he didn't want to lie to the kid. "We don't know for sure, Caleb," was all he could say. "All we got is circumstantial evidence." "I want to see him." "What?" Caleb looked up into Ben's eyes. "I want to see my daddy." Closing his eyes, Ben sighed. "I can't son. No-one's allowed to see Lucas right now." "Please. I need to." Aw, hell, why not. "Sure, Caleb," Ben said out loud. "Sure." He grabbed his keys and motioned to Caleb with his hand. Caleb followed the deputy through to the back where the cells were located. Ben pointed one finger at the end of the jail. "He's down there. I'll leave you two alone." Caleb made his way through the hall. It was dark and dirty. He passed by several cells until he found Lucas, sitting on the bench in his own cell. He never thought he would see Lucas degraded like this. Funny though, thought Caleb. He doesn't look degraded. Lucas stood up as he saw Caleb approach. Making his way to the bars, Lucas grinned. "Well, hello, son! Come to see your old daddy in prison?" Caleb frowned. "I need to know somethin'." "And what would that be?" Lucas asked, as though he didn't know. "Did you kill that woman?" Without flinching, Lucas replied, "Is that really what you want to know, Caleb? I mean, what does it matter if I did? Death happens and sometimes there's nothing we can do to stop it." "Did you kill her?" "Caleb," Lucas began, "I want to ask you something. If something is done for the good of the people, or one person, is it wrong? And even if it is, does that make a difference?" Now, Caleb started getting confused. "What are you talking about?" "Caleb, life is a funny thing. What one person thinks is wrong, another thinks is right. It all depends on how you look at it. Have you ever heard of relativity?" Caleb shook his head. "That's all right. This guy called Albert Einstein realized that the universe works differently for each one of us. Every person is different and leads a different life and that's okay. Just because you see something one way, doesn't mean that's how it really is. Relativity. You understand?" How did this happen again. Somehow Lucas could turn anything Caleb said into something completely different until Caleb couldn't be sure whether he was right or not. Did Lucas kill the woman? Does it matter if he did? Caleb thought it did, but then, death happens, right? Something was wrong here, Caleb was sure about it. He just couldn't put his finger on it. Scowling again, Caleb turned away. "Ben! I want outta here!" "Gail? asked the tall, thin man standing in the open doorway. "Is it really you?" Gail smiled. "Yes it's me." "Well," he grinned. "You sure grew up didn'tcha?" She looked at the floor, actually managing to be embarrassed. She had been pretty close to Philip Johnson at one time, although he was more than ten years older than her. "I suppose," he started, "I should ask you why you're here." He looked knowingly at her. "I'm sure you didn't stop by after all these years for a social visit." Gail shuffled her feet. "You're right," she got right to the point, "I'm here to ask you some things about my parents." With a sympathetic expression on his face, Philip invited Gail inside. They crossed the hallway and sat down in Philip's living room. "Philip," she decided to just say it, "I want to know something: Did you know a woman called Jennifer Hall?" Philip looked very troubled. He seemed about to say something but merely stared at the corner of the ceiling. "What?" Gail wondered what the problem was. "What is it, Philip?" He brought his eyes round to meet hers, with a great deal of effort. "I... don't think it's anything you need to know about..." What? "Philip, what are you talking about?" "I..." He swallowed. "There are some things that should just be kept secret. That's how all the trouble started in the first place." "Trouble? What trouble?" "It's... nothing. I'm sorry," he stood up. "I can't help you." "Philip." Gail looked directly into the man's eyes, pouring all her emotions into the glance. There was no way anyone could ignore a look like that. "Why?" he asked finally. "Why is it so important?" Gail sighed, and began the story. Ben examined the increasing throng of people infesting the station. They just kept coming. Damn it, he hated to admit it now of all times, but they really needed Lucas. Lucas was a great man, thought Ben, he just needs to consider other people a bit more. Aw hell, why shouldn't I just let him out. We all know he didn't do it - couldn't have done it. Ben locked the image of Merlyn Temple out of his mind. That would never happen again. I guess, he thought, I'd better talk to him about getting out. He's won again. "Ben!" came the shout just then. The deputy looked up to see Floyd making his way through the crowd. "Ben, I think you should take a look at this!" The bumbling Floyd arrived at the main desk with a folder in his hands and a plastic bag. The bag contained a gun. "What's that, Floyd?" Floyd looked nervous. "This is what I came to tell you about. This gun - we..." he looked about at the people, lowered his voice, "Ben, we found it at Lucas' place, buried at the bottom of his wardrobe." "What?" Ben was startled. "That ain't Lucas' gun!" "Well," said Floyd, "it seems to be. It's got his fingerprints all over it. I took it to an analyst before bringin' it over: it's the gun that shot Jennifer Hall." Ben shook his head. "Damn! Damn that Lucas Buck!" He grabbed the bag with the evidence and headed for the back. The door creaked in protest as Ben threw it open and made his way through the dank, dark jail hall to Lucas' cell. He stopped right in front of the Sheriff who was seated on his bench. "Lucas," he said, angry. "What the hell is this?" Taking a brief, uninterested look at the bag in Ben's hand, Lucas replied: "It's a gun." "You seen this before Lucas?" "I don't know. It's a gun. I've seen lots of guns." "Yeah?" Ben held the bag up to the bars. "Well this was found in your house. It's got your prints on it Lucas!" "What?" Lucas stood up. "You searched my house?" Ben's temper was deteriorating fast. "Yes, we searched your damn house, Lucas, you're a suspect in a murder investigation!" Regaining his balance, Lucas took his seat once more. "So what are you saying, Ben. Of course it's got my prints: it was in my house." "It's the murder weapon Lucas!" "So." He shrugged. "Then I guess I found it and took it home. What's the problem." "Lucas you don't just take a gun off the street! This is evidence enough to convict you in a court of law! I trusted you, Lucas! I was ready to let you out because no-one could believe you're guilty." He shook the bag. "Now I get this! What do you want me to do with this, Lucas? Huh?" The gun made a clanging sound as Ben hit the bag on the bars. "What the hell do you expect me to do with this?" Standing, Lucas looked Ben right in the eye. "You want the truth?" "Lucas, that's all I want in the world right now." "Fine." He sighed. "I guess it's time." Caleb flopped down onto his bed. What had Lucas said? Caleb couldn't even remember now. Something about what was right and what was wrong. Did he say he didn't kill the woman? Caleb didn't think so. Did he say that he did? No, not that either. Lucas said it didn't matter, that the action was done and that was all that mattered. So, what was the truth? Caleb's head came up to hear the sweet music that played as Merlyn Temple appeared amidst a bright spotlight. "What's the matter, Caleb? Didn't you hear what you needed?" Frowning, he replied, "Merly, I'm more confused than ever. Did Lucas kill that girl or didn' he?" Merlyn sat down on the bed. "Is that really your question?" Sometimes, thought the young orphan, my sister can be even more confusin' than my... daddy. "What do you mean?" "Well, Caleb, you saw into the mind of your father. It's a confusin' place, filled with relative moralities and double standards. You have to know that place, Caleb. You have to know that mind. It's the only way to recognize that part of yourself that you don't want. Without knowing it, it can sneak up on you and then, no-one knows where you might end up." "But what about the truth?" Caleb asked. "Who killed that woman?" Merlyn stood up. "Some truths are for only some people Caleb. This is one truth that you don't need to know." "But I want to know: Did Lucas Buck kill that lady?" The wall began to show through Merlyn's body. "Explore your soul, Caleb. There you'll find the only truth that matters." Caleb was left frowning at the place where his once-sister had stood. "That true?" Philip asked. Gail looked into his eyes. "All of it." "I guess..." he sat down, his hand massaging his lower lip. He sighed. "I don't know, I guess it don't matter no more. They're dead. It's you I'm worried about." "What do you mean?" Gail took her seat, a puzzled expression on her face. "There are some things a child doesn't need to know about her family - especially her parents." "What... kind of things?" Philip sat silent for a moment before saying: "Personal things." "What does this have to do with Jennifer Hall?" Looking deep into her eyes, Philip said, "I'm sure I don't need to spell it out to a woman of the world like yourself Miss Emory." He couldn't mean... could he? "Philip, you're not suggesting that my parents would ever... betray each other." "Look, I'm gonna tell you a story. It's up to you whether you believe me or not." Gail didn't want to listen, but did. She sat, emotionless, as Philip told her stories about her father. Stories she wished she had never heard. But she had to. She had to know the truth. TRINITY, SOUTH CAROLINA, 1977 The young sheriff retreated into the darkness, leaving Jennifer Hall to her own fate. He stayed in the cover of the trees to watch this meeting. There was nothing he could do. She was on her own. Soon, a man approached the girl. The silhouette was easily recognizable. The figure of Peter Emory was well known to everyone in the town. Of course, they got to arguing. Somehow these things always happened that way. Lucas could calmly betray even his closest family but most people let their conscience get in the way. That's how it was with these two. Peter had become enraged when he discovered that Jennifer had told her best friend Sally about their relationship - terrified that someone would find out. If it were me, Lucas thought, I could find an easy way out of this situation. Oh, he thought. It looks like good ol' Peter and I share more in common than I would have thought. A gunshot sounded in the still night air. That gets her out of the picture, a quick burial and no-one will ever find the body. Of course, there was still Sally to be reckoned with. Lucas wondered if Peter had the guts to kill her in cold blood. Well, once you get this ball rolling, it's kinda hard to stop. Lucas heard the sound of a car engine, which slowly faded away into the distance. Well now. He filed this incident away in his memory. Dirt like this has gotta be worth somethin' somewhere down the line. Lucas tugged on his waistcoat and stepped out of the shadows. He didn't feel his badge. Turning quickly around, he checked the ground. He certainly couldn't leave that kind of evidence lying around - in the unlikely event that this body was found, he didn't need to be implicated in something like this. Making his way over to the murder site, Lucas closely examined every inch of earth. Nothing. Of course, Lucas remembered, Jennifer ripped it off and it fell in the dust. It must have been buried with her, Lucas surmised, and it may even have been the weapon that Lucas saw glinting in the moonlight before Peter used the gun. Can't disturb the site now, he thought. Oh well, this is far enough away from town that no-one will ever find it. That Pete Emory's a clever man. he knew what he was doing. An object lay on the ground at Lucas' feet. He picked it up. The gun. Peter left it here. Maybe he wasn't as smart as I thought. Could be useful though, he figured. Kinda proof that I was here. Makes sure that I'm not bluffin'. Lucas took one last look at the scene before him, smiled satisfactorily, and wandered off in the moonlight. TRINITY, SOUTH CAROLINA, 1995 "Why, thank you, Ben," the sheriff said as he stepped out of the cell, a free man once more. His deputy had checked out his story and found it to be true, as far as he could ascertain. Always good to have a little ambiguity, Lucas figured. Even though Emory's prints were on the gun, that's not really conclusive proof. Ben clipped his keys to his belt. Lucas had been telling the truth this time. Ben was glad but he was more than a little disturbed. "Lucas," he said, before his boss left for the outside world. "Why didn't you tell me from the beginning? About Peter I mean." Lucas smiled. "To protect the town. The Emorys were well-respected. Still are." He smiled at the thought of Gail Emory. Can't wait to see her again. "Why else?" Unable to think of a response, Ben remained silent. Lucas opened the door and stepped into the bright reception area. Squinting, he made his way to the door. A small crowd had gathered for the release of Sheriff Lucas Buck. He couldn't help but grin at the sight. There were, however, a few here today who were decidedly less than enthusiastic. Dr Matt Crower of course, that was to be expected. Caleb Temple looked more confused than upset really. Lucas liked to think that he had played at least some small part in producing Caleb's state of mind, although he suspected... other, less earthly contributors. Finally, there was Gail. Surprisingly, she seemed less angry at him than herself, or someone else, he thought. Could it be that she found out somehow. No, Lucas decided. It must be something else. I mean, how could she? Gail watched the "innocent" man walk free and wondered how many deaths the man was really responsible for. She had hoped, really hoped, that this would be the one, the case that would put the son of a bitch away for good. Instead, it had changed her life forever. How does he do it? she wondered. How does he? THE END