Shadows of Lives Once Lived
by Jeffrey Scott Holland - part 5

Back at the crime scene, Ray parked the car in front of the house. No other evidence had surfaced, other than what was found in the back.

After thinking about it rationally, he realized that deputies had been on watch for two nights; and they hadn't seen anything during that entire time. So he didn't bother to get the rifle out of the car. Still, the fact that it was Halloween made him feel a little uneasy.

He walked around to the back of the house and scanned the area. There were three holes where the bodies had been dug up and tire tracks from where the truck had been until yesterday, when it had been towed to the impound yard.

He was beginning to think that coming back out here might have just been a waste of time. It looked as if they had done about everything they could do there. He started to walk back to the car when it occurred to him nobody had ever really checked out the inside of the house.

He walked around to the front of the house. There were boards nailed to the door frame to keep anyone from going inside. He gave the rotted board in the middle a firm kick and it split into two pieces. He pulled them off after working with them for a few minutes, and then he pulled one end of another board loose and moved it down, creating a hole large enough to climb through.

As he came through the other side, he saw how dirty the old house was. There was no furniture in the dusty room and dirt layered the floor. He got to his feet and walked into the back room that had probably been the bedroom.

It was obvious that no one had been here for years. He walked over to the window and looked out. He saw the three holes half-way between the house and the woods. He decided he had wasted enough time here.

As he turned and began to walk out of the room, he noticed a couple of loose boards on the old wood floor. He backed up and walked over it again. This time, when he took his foot off, the loose boards slapped up dust. He stopped, bent down to discover a trapdoor.

His eyes widened as he pulled it up and saw that there was something still in the hole after all these years. He reached into the hidden compartment and pulled out a small metal box and an old paper bag. He opened the paper bag first. Inside was some white cloth and, when he pulled it out and unfolded it, he saw that it was an old, moth-eaten gown.

He reached into the bag again and pulled out a white hood with two holes cut out where the eyes should be. Ray grimaced as he realized what he had found. He inspected the old gown more closely, only to find a symbol sewn on it.

He knew this kind of stuff went on around these parts, but he had never had to deal with the Ku Klux Klan before. He hadn't heard of anything like this around here in years, and definitely not since he had been sheriff. People had grown less prejudiced over the years, and he was glad they had. He had known a lot of great black people during his training for law enforcement. He didn't have any kids yet, but he always knew he was going to teach his kids not to be racist.

He opened the metal box. Inside he found an old twenty-five dollar savings bond, about thirty dollars in cash, and two old pictures. He looked at the pictures more closely. One of the guys looked familiar, but he was having trouble placing him.

He looked back at the old costume. He was starting to think maybe it was just a strange coincidence the bodies had been buried together. Since George Mackey, the owner of the house, had been in the KKK, maybe he had killed someone and buried them in his yard. Maybe he had killed more than one person, and the bodies just haven't been found yet.