After a brief sci-fi holiday break, my continuing blog fiction continues...
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DARKENING
STURGEONS
Chapter Twenty-Three
by John L. Harmon
“Too late
for what, Stickler?” Chief Deputy Clyde Woodhouse demands as he steps up beside
his superior, confronting his childhood boogeyman face-to-face.
“I see
there is no need for introductions,” Eugene Raymond Stickler half chuckles in
his deep, deliberate tone.
Sheriff
Benjamin Straker, eyes locked with the seemingly refined gentleman, formulates
his own question. Working back to
Lawrence resigning and then his empty house, to now with the parked moving van
and Stickler mentioning the former sheriff’s name, it all adds up to one thing
for Ben. “Where is Lester Lawrence?”
Not even a
flicker of recognition or fear passes over the face of Eugene Raymond Stickler,
as if nothing can faze him. “I see
you’ve been through quite an ordeal to get here,” referring to Ben’s disheveled
clothes, “so, perhaps you should all come inside.” He turns around with the expectation to follow,
“For I have nothing to hide anymore.”
The law
enforcement duo enter first, followed closely behind by the scientific
duo. A comfortable entryway greets them,
complete with a coatrack and numerous shelves and pegs for shoes, purses, and
the like. Their guide, after silently
motioning for Ben to relegate the beige hat of Lawrence to a peg, takes them
through to an expansive living area full of ornate fixtures and paintings. All of which are dusty, neglected, and deemed
unimportant to the owner.
Eugene
Raymond Stickler begins a deep, deliberate explanation of sorts as they
continue to walk through the living area.
He mentions how Lester Lawrence, while no genius, managed to connect the
dots from his yearbook.
“How did
you change the color of that sturgeon, if you don’t mind me asking?” Dr. Samuel
Dwyer interrupts, aching to know the answer.
“It was
all merely smoke and mirrors,” their guide answers matter-of-factly, “but it
impressed the hell out of those judges.”
Samuel
nudges up his glasses, feeling rather disappointed at the mundane answer. A quick glance at Dr. Christine Abernathy’s
smirking face shows she assumed as much.
“Yet, that
trick inspired me,” Eugene Raymond Stickler continues, entering a long, narrow
hallway.
“But where
is Lawrence?” Ben asks again, determined for an answer.
“He came
here all in a tizzy about the disappearance of Bob Kinney, swearing he had
never heard of such a thing, that is, until he remembered my little science fair
project.”
“You are
not answering my question, Mr. Stickler.”
“Oh, but I
am Sheriff Straker,” he states with an air of familiarity, proving there was
truly no need for introductions. “Lester
Lawrence demanded to know what was happening, so I told him…and showed him.”
As if he
designed the scene for added punch, Eugene Raymond Stickler opens a door at the
end of the hallway and escorts them into a room. A massive room that can be best described as
a laboratory with an impressive television monitor to one side. He stops in the center and proudly turns to
gage his expected guests’ reactions.
Christine
and Sam stare in awe over the mixture of old and new scientific technology
surrounding them. Clyde is in a near
trance-like state staring at the familiar scenes flashing on the television
monitor. Ben, without taking his eyes
away from Stickler, swiftly pulls out his gun, clicks off the safety, aims and
fires a question.
“For the
last time, where is Lawrence?”
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JLH
