Shadows Disinterred: Day 20

Word Total: 120,005

Year to Date: 930,079

Summary of Events:

Dallas and his fellow officer went through boxes down in the basement and found a chilling collection of kill photos. They then started digging up bodies, finding forty one — all thirty seven men plus Shirley's four sons — bodies in total. Dallas then went and broke the news to Mrs. Farquharson, who took it well, and then regaled his family with the tale of his investigation at their Thanksgiving gathering.

Excerpt of the Day:

"Once he'd gone around the small square buildings Dallas started his SUV, which seemed to roar to life with eagerness now that it was fully fuelled. Dallas looked at the house; the back door was closed now, the fence was gone, the garage door was closed.

All of it looked desolate, empty, and soggy. All that was left were the shadows. Dallas reversed around so he turned his hood to point where a row of granaries had once stood and then drove around, past all of the disturbed dirt, the gaping barn door, the empty chicken run — emptied by Deby's hand — past more stirred up dirt, places where granaries had once stood, and then out past where the gate had been down the driveway.

He passed the place where he'd leapt off of the driveway and rolled to safety when Deby had tried to run him down, he then headed out on a road he hadn't travelled in his SUV in some three months.

As he turned onto the road, Dallas looked at the farm. Most all of the leaves were gone now, the entire place looked forsaken, all the more forbidding and eerie, all the more like the kind of place where evil and shadows would dwell — and where they had too.

—

Walking up to the door, Dallas pressed the doorbell. A few moments later the door was opened by Anna, who flashed Dallas a savage look, but let him in without a word. Once he was inside she looked at him defensively.

"What do you want?" she demanded.

"I would like to speak to your mother," Dallas replied.

"Whatever she's hearing I can hear," Anna said.

Turning, Anna stalked into the living room. Dallas followed Anna and found Mrs. Farquharson sitting in the chair she'd sat in when he'd interviewed her all those months ago, although this time she was asleep.

"Mother," Anna said gently. "The police are here."

Mrs. Farquharson startled and looked up, an expression of recognition washed over her face. "Dallas," she said. "It's good to see you again."

"I only wish it were under better circumstances," Dallas said soberly.

"You've found things?" Mrs. Farquharson asked.

"Yes," Dallas replied. "And I regret to inform you, Mrs. Farquharson, that we located the remains of your son, Thomas Brett Farquharson, southeast of St. Brieux, Saskatchewan; we have determined the cause of death to be severe head trauma caused by beating. His death was a homicide which we are positive was committed by Shirley Muriel Pedin of St. Brieux, Saskatchewan on the sixteenth of September, nineteen eighty five." . . .

. . . Shadows had been lurking undetected, completely hidden, unseen, buried deep. They had hidden for a long time, deep underground, and yet it was his cousin, poor Madeline, who had found the key to unlocking the mystery, the shovel that — without digging — had lead to those shadows disinterred."

Essential information for the next novel will be posted on September 29.