Rain dribbled from a sodden sky, filling the puddles not yet empty from the last rain they'd had. Lightning flashed from far away, leaving a dull impression of brightness followed by the low grumble of thunder. The storm was coming, and, like his fear, was not welcomed.
Too much time had been spent waiting for the rivers to drain back to their normal size, sand bags that had been filled and piled next to the river banks were still heavy and wet. This season's rainfall had gone beyond the norm, creating lakes where fields had once been, ruining crops and killing off livestock. If it didn't end soon, people would lose all they owned.
But he wasn't thinking of that now. Even as he stood in the window, staring out at the flat land around his home, the home that had been in his family for over a century, his mind was in the shed with the coffin that had been left there earlier that day. Caleb knew what was in the casket, he was the one that had ordered her brought to him. But now that she was here, he wondered if he could really go through with his plan.
A flash of light shone in his eyes, lasting longer than the lightning, catching his attention. A car pulled up to the front of the huge house, the engine idling as a door opened and then closed. Caleb turned from the window and went to the huge desk that had been his father's before he was killed. He sat down, opening a file at random and flipping through to a page somewhere in the middle. Brushing longish black hair from off his forehead, he pretended to be absorbed in what was on the page.
A polite knock sounded on the door and without looking up, he called out permission to enter. Cassie, who'd been with him since before he could walk, popped her graying head in the room.
"Sir, the police are here and wish a word with you."
He sighed, heavily. He'd been expecting this. "Show them in Cassie. Thank you."
When the two men entered, he stood, though he didn't come out from around his desk. "Gentlemen," he said by way of greeting. "What can I do for you?"
"We're sorry to be bothering you this late at night, Mr. Jordan, but we've had a report of a missing girl."
Caleb glanced with curiosity between the two men. "And what does a missing girl have to do with me, Detective..." he let the question hang in the air.
"Ryan, sir," the tallest one said. "Detective Greg Ryan and this is my partner Detective Allen Smith. And the girl should be of a lot of interest to you considering who her father is."
"Sit down, gentlemen," Caleb said suddenly, waving them towards two leather wing back chairs sat at a comfortable distance from his desk. He came around and perched a hip on the edge of his desk, staring down at the men. "So who is this girl who should mean something to me?"
"Does the name Alexis Benton mean anything to you?"
"Alexis Benton is the daughter of the man who killed my parents, Detective. But you both knew that. I take it she is the missing girl?"
"Yes, sir. We are searching the surrounding area for her. You haven't seen her?"
"I haven't seen any of the Bentons since Jack Benton was allowed to walk after killing my father." Caleb let all the hatred he felt for the man be heard in his voice. Jack Benton was a murdering coward. "And I really don't care to see any of them anytime in the near future. If Lexi Benton is missing, I wish you all the luck in the world in finding her. You might want to check and see where daddy dearest was when she went missing. Maybe he killed her like he did my parents." He stood and walked toward the door. "Goodnight gentlemen," he said and waited for them to walk by him.
He heard Cassie open one of the huge double doors that led outside, and listening hard, he could hear the engine of the car rev for a moment before driving away. Caleb sighed. He hadn't been worried about the cops searching the place. He had nothing to hide. But he was glad they were gone. Cops made him itchy.
"Is there anything more I can get for you sir?" Cassie asked, concerned as she stared at the boy she considered as much hers as any of her own children. She'd had almost primary care of him since he was little, since his parents traveled so much in what they had called treasure hunting. Cassie called it a waste of time.
"No, thanks Cassie. Why don't you go on up to bed? I'll be down here for a while longer and I might take a walk and see how the sand bags are holding up."
"I think I will," she said, yawning. "Maybe I can watch some of my programs tonight."
Caleb smiled and wished her a goodnight, waiting until she was up stairs and he heard her door shut before he headed out the door. He had managed to stay away from the shed since it had been delivered earlier today but now he was anxious. So many things could go wrong. And a little tingle of nervous fear edged its way into his thinking.
The path to the shed was wet and slick, the concrete dark from the rain. It was drizzling, almost a steady mist that was cold against his skin, wetting his shirt and making it stick to his chest. His shoes squeaked a little as the water seeped into them, wetting his socks.
The door to the shed had been oiled only this morning and moved soundlessly on its hinges. He swung it open only wide enough to squeeze himself inside and then grabbed the flashlight that he knew was sitting on the tool bench. Flicking it on, he played the beam over the inside of the shed. When he was satisfied that he was alone, he went to the gleaming casket that sat close to the back wall of the shed, a garden hose and a tarp tossed on top of it.
