This morning when I finally reached town, I noticed a squad car tailing me. It followed me all the way up to my uncle's house on the southern edge of town. The police officer never turned their lights on or anything, but it wasn't exactly trying to be subtle.
I parked in the driveway, and stayed in the car. The squad car parked behind me. Two overweight officers got out and slowly walked over to flank my rental car. "Good afternoon!" said the officer on my left. His voice was stern, formal, and bored. Almost sarcastic. But it was because it sounded so young, that caused me to do a double take.
"Ryan?" I said.
"Hey Adam." He said sheepishly. Ryan and I had been in the same class in school. We weren't close friends, but when you've known someone through 12 years of school and grew up in the same small town, you get to know them. "Listen, Adam. I'm afraid I've got some bad news."
My uncle is dead.
Ryan and the other officer who I didn't know both tried to stop me from going into the house. They said it was suicide. He hanged himself in his bedroom. I told them that all my belongings were inside the house, and firmly told them to let go of me.
Ryan told the other officer to wait while he escorted me inside. In the living room, there were several people, a few who I could recognize. The pastor of the local church, the old lawyer, and a few other people I knew from around town.
As soon as he saw me, the pastor came over to me and Ryan purposefully. "Adam. You really shouldn't be here right now," he said.
Just looking at him, made something rise up inside me. Learning about Marissa yesterday, and having this hostile greeting today... The fact that all these people had suspiciously shown up here at my uncle's house, and now I wasn't allowed. I opened my mouth to tell them all to get the fuck out, but thought better of it. I didn't need to get off on the wrong foot with all these people at once. "I'll just grab a couple things and go," I said, and walked purposely toward the second bedroom that I'd been staying in.
Behind me, I could hear the pastor whispering harshly to Ryan.
Once in the room, I shut the door. Quickly, I threw my few clothes and belongings into my backpack. Clearing the small desk, I noticed the plain envelope that had contained the pictures from the night before. It was empty.
I searched around on the floor and under the bed when I heard someone open the door. It was Ryan. "All right, Adam," he said, "you ready?"
I looked at him, taking in his expression, and sizing him up. Who the fuck could I trust anymore? "Something is missing," I said flatly.
"Sorry about that. You could try asking the people out there if they've seen it. But..." He stepped inside and closed the door behind him. "Adam, they want you *gone*. I'm not charging you with anything, but they're starting to whisper that you had something to do with your uncle's..."
"What?"
"Hey I'm not accusing you of anything, like I said. But I think you should get out of here. Now. Leave town and don't come back. These are people you don't want to get mixed up with. Dangerous people." His face was deathly serious as he said these last words.
Someone knocked on the door and started trying to push Ryan out of the way.
Pastor Charles was a huge man. He must have been about 60 years old now, but I can still remember him closer to his prime playing sports with my father when I was much younger. It was as if every aspect of himself was hand-picked to make him physically imposing. He stood at 6'6" and wrapped in muscle. His customary black suit was fit him like he'd been poured into it. As a kid, what had scared me the most about him had been his left eye, which was pure milky white and completely blind. He pushed his way into the room, and reached to grab my arm.
"It's time for you to leave, child" he said, staring at me intensely at me with his one good eye.
I told him to get off of me and stormed out through the living room. The people there had all joined hands, with one opening presumably left for the Pastor.
Ryan's squad car followed me a few miles outside of town before turning back. This whole thing has me really scared.
What was that? Is this how law enforcement usually handles a suicide?
Maybe this was stupid, but I went back to my mother's house. I took another road that skirted the edge of town so that any police that were posted on the highways wouldn't see me. I drove by once to check that no one was there, but with my deep tire tracks and disturbed gravel still there from when I left, I was fairly certain that no one had been there since that night.
I hid the car on a side street and walked back. In the afternoon sun, the house didn't seem as menacing. I opened the front door and quickly slipped inside before anyone could drive by. The carpet in the living room was still dark and smelled strongly of mildew from the spill, the TV screen was still broken and gaping. Everything looked just like I'd left it. I shivered as I looked at the spot on the couch where I last thought I'd seen my mother.
Maybe I'm crazy, and maybe this won't help. This might even be a really bad idea, but I just need somewhere to think. I've been feeling like there's some kind of purpose for my coming back to Oregon. Like something drawing me here. Maybe it's Marissa, or maybe it's my mother. Either way, I'm not taking any action just yet. I'm going to spend a few more days here to see what else I can learn about my sister and my uncle's death.
I can't just run away from this. Not yet.
EDIT: Sorry I can't update any of you now. Since I got here, I've been feeling sicker and sicker. I slept feverishly all night and day today. Feeling too weak to even do anything else. When I'm back on my feet, I'll clue you all in on what I've turned up in my search of the town's history. Unfortunately it's not good news.
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