35

35

Martin Stanford’s hand shook as he gripped the newspaper in his fat hand. His eyes were wide, staring in horror at the front page.

“How could he...?” he whispered fiercely. “How could Vince do this?!” His fist came down on the breakfast table with a bang, making Martha jump.

She clenched her teeth as she stared at the newspaper and the photograph plastered across the front page.

The headline cut through her like a cold knife.

“Years of kidnapping in Woodfair finally explained. Conspiracy, secrets, and murders exposed.”

Martha swallowed as Martin ripped the paper to shreds, ripping the front-page photograph of the late priest and Martin’s father to pieces as well.

“That bastard!” Martin panted, ripping the pieces fallen around him. “He’s betrayed me!”

“I warned you never to trust Vincent!” Martha muttered bitterly. She pushed away from the table and stalked around it.

The Mayor’s fists clenched and unclenched in anxiety. What the hell was he going to do? He’d thought Marcus’s idea to steal the photographs and frame Aaron had been ingenious! It had the town on Martin’s side in a minute.

All they had to do was make sure the photograph of Jonathan and Martin’s father with the body of that girl never saw light.

What Martin hadn’t expected was for Vince to steal the photograph and print it out on the bloody front page!

Martha spun around suddenly, breaking into Martin’s thoughts.

“There ain’t nothing’ left to do, Martin,” she said. Martin was horrified to realize that she was right. They were fucked. “We gotta get outta here before we lose everythin’.”

“They can’t do anything to us! These photographs don’t tie us to those murders, it was the Reverend and my father who did it, not me!”

Martha made a sound of impatience. “Don’ speak like you got hay for brains, Marty, those people will humiliate us! Do you think you can still be Mayor? He was your father! A murderer! A rapist!”

“I get it!”

“Then let’s leave!”

Martin sighed heavily, resting his head in his hands. This was bad. And it was all because of Marcus, that little fucktard!

He glared up at his wife. “I’m gonna kill Marcus for this.”

“Oh, don’ go blamin’ him again! We’re all in this together! Now if you’re gonna sit here and wait for the town to come on up and burn this house down, you do that. I’m leavin’ this place!”

He watched her stalk away up the stairs, her heels clicking loudly with each angry step.

Martin grabbed the rest of the newspaper and ripped it apart in a fit of rage.

“Vincent fucking Krowski!”

***********

“What does this mean?!” yelled old Reginald at the Sheriff who stood between them and Vince Krowski.

Vince looked at the mass of people who’d entered into the Town’s Hall and nodded. Everything was perfectly according to plan.

The Sheriff patted the old man’s shoulder. “Reg, I suggest you calm down. We’re all here to find that out, it ain’t worth gettin’ a heart attack over.”

People bustled about behind old Reginald, calling out questions and insults at their certainty that the paper had published lies.

“B-but... you don’t understand!” Reginald cried out. His eyes looked behind the Sheriff and sought out Vincent’s.

“Young man, you don’t know anythin’, bein’ an outsider ‘n’ all, but that man... Reverend Jonathan Burns, that man is the best thing that had ever happened to this town! He led us to the light for over twenty years! How could you allow them publish that?! That paper said he... that he...”

Reginald closed his eyes, his expression one of agony. “Oh, I can’t bear to say it!”

Vincent’s jaw clenched as he listened to the old man. As he listened to everything that the town’s folk had to say about what was finally spoken to them. The truth.

He scoffed silently. The light? These people were convinced that they’d been led to the light by nothing short of a demon. Jonathan Burns had been nothing but a devil and he’d fooled an entire town to believe otherwise.

Feeling that old rage course through his veins, Vincent forced himself to remain calm. There was no point in losing his shit now. Not when the end was so close. Not when he’s so close to getting his revenge.

Silently, Vince stalked up to the podium and reached for the microphone. The roomed buzzed with murmurs.

“Listen, everyone,” said Vince. Everyone quietened and focused on him. Vince nearly smiled. It was very satisfying to have them listen when he told them to. Twenty-five years ago, they’d ignored the cries and pleas of his twenty-one-year-old self.

This town had bowed to the Reverend like he was their god, obeying even when he instructed them to hurt one of their own.

But now, Vince held the power to shut every mouth and make them all listen. So he would.

“You’re all clearly bothered by the news printed in this morning’s paper. Am I right?” The people nodded. Vince calmly pulled on his necktie. “Well... I know you’re all expecting to hear that it was some kind of tasteless hoax, but... I’m afraid every single word of the article was the truth.”

The room filled with roars of outrage and disbelief. Vince nearly let himself chuckle.

“Your beloved priest,” he said loudly. The crowd grew quiet again. “Your perfect Reverend... he wasn’t what you all thought him to be. That photograph was proof. And I know that the corpse of the victim was blurred out to protect the readers, however... I can assure you that the sight would have been one to haunt your dreams for weeks. She was murdered, her body mutilated beyond recognition.” The crowd gasped in horror. “Yes,” said Vince. “She was. And your Priest did it.”

There was no roar of outrage now, only quiet murmurings amongst the crowd.

“What about Aaron Spencer?!” demanded a woman in the crowd. “We were told that he’d done it to the girls! He’s the only killer this town ever had!”

Vincent strove to maintain his calm. “Aaron Spencer,” he announced. “Is innocent of those accusations.” The crowd gasped. “And I know you think you have reason to believe that he’s guilty, but I have even more reason to tell you that Aaron Spencer has never, in his life, taken the life of any other human being!”

That had them in an uproar.

Vince smiled this time, taking a little step away from the mic as the people loudly expressed their disbelief.

“That’s a lie, Krowski!” Vince heard. “You’re in with Spencer!” someone else yelled. “You’re no Deputy Mayor, you’re a thug!”

Vincent actually chuckled this time, rubbing a hand down his neat beard. The people of Woodfair must have had bricks for brains, to be honest.

“Alright!” said Vince with raised hands. “Let me ask you this then. Besides what the old neighborhood lady said she saw out the window that night, twenty years ago, what other proof is there? What proof was there that Aaron Spencer killed the Reverend that night?”

They mumbled and murmured, but Vince heard no answers.

He scoffed at them. “I don’t hear any answers. Let’s face it. That case was all wrong. I know it, you know it. Woodfair, it’s time to stop following fables and stories. It’s time to live in the real world!”

The crowd seemed to grow smaller, chastised by his blunt speech.

A lady in the crowd raised her hand. “But now, Mr. Krowski. Ain’t it just strange how the Reverend and his daughter died just like that? If Aaron Spencer didn’ do it, then who—”

“Ma’am,” Vince cut her off with a dashing smile. The woman actually blushed. “It has been the assumption of all of Woodfair that Jonathan Burns and his daughter died that night and that Aaron Spencer killed them. However... if that were true,” Vince stepped away from the podium. “I wouldn’t be able to do this, would I?”

Slowly, Vincent raised his hands into the air and clapped them twice. The sound reverberated through the hall.

The people blinked at him in confusion, becoming even more baffled when from behind the stage curtains came a woman they didn’t recognize.

Vince smiled at their confused faces as the woman reached his side, keeping herself partly hidden behind his broad shoulder.

“Now, Woodfair!” said Vince. “I present to you, Catherine Burns.”

The crowd gasped so hard, it was a wonder there was still oxygen in the room.

“Impossible!” gasped old Reginald.

Vince nodded and stepped to the side so they had a clear view of Cathy. He saw how inclined her head was, saw how timid she looked before this worthless town.

Feeling sadness at her state of timidity, Vince reached forward and, holding her face by the chin, gently raised her head. She had to hold it up high, dammit!

She had nothing to be ashamed of.

She focused on him, avoiding looking at the town gathered in the hall.

“Here before you all,” continued Vince, his eyes on Catherine. “Stands Catherine Burns. Very much alive and healthy. The mother of Lauren Burns.” Vince swallowed, his heart thudding at the words he was to speak next. In a voice so low, only Cathy could hear, he said: “Lauren Burns who is, might I add, my daughter too.”