“I don’t understand Virginia,” he said to her. “I thought I freed you from all of this when I killed that old man.”
“Yes you did. I will never be violated by my uncle Frank again, but you have not freed me from my killer,” she said. Then she screamed as she saw the shadowy figure approaching, just as it had over and over again each night. Davis turned and swung his fists at the figure, but his hands passed right through it. As he got closer to the figure, he realized that it was still a moving shadow with no form or expression that he could make out. It seemed unaware or unconcerned about him and it passed right through him on its way to attack Virginia. She screamed again and this brought Davis out of the portal. He sat on the basement stair, bewildered.
He contacted Sandy the next day and filled her in on everything that took place the night before. She thought long and hard after he told her about the shadowy figure in the basement.
“Well let’s go over what we know,” she said, “We know that the killer wasn’t the uncle. We know that you can’t make contact with the killer on the spiritual plane…” she went on.
“What if her killer is still alive somewhere?” he suggested.
“I think that is the case!” she said. “But who?”
“I wish I knew,” Davis said. “Please give me a call if you get any ideas about how I should proceed with this,” he said, ready to get off the phone.
“Well, we need to know who also lived in the house with Virginia and who else she might have had contact with,” she suggested.
“Well Mary Walton lived here. Perhaps she is the aunt,” Davis suggested.
“Could be. You need to find out what you can from her without being too suspicious,” Sandy said. “Meanwhile, let me see what I can dig up through some research. Goodbye and good luck Davis!” He called Mary Walton that afternoon and asked if she could bring some more linen because he was having a relative come visit. She agreed to come by the next day.
“Thank you. Goodbye,” he said as he hung up the phone.
He tried that night to get to sleep; but could not. Finally as the first light of day appeared he yelled up at the ceiling,
“TELL ME VIRGINIA! WHO IS IT? HELP ME SO I CAN HELP YOU!”
“Here! Bring a shovel!” he heard a voice coming from outside the house. He got dressed, grabbed a large shovel from the tool shed and went out to the back garden.
“This way!” he heard Virginia’s voice again coming from the woods beyond the garden. He went down a narrow pathway through the woods as the light of day grew by the second. Again he heard her voice coming from beyond the bend in the creek. He crossed it and heard her voice again, still further into the woods. Finally he reached a rocky outcrop. Just beyond that he heard Virginia again saying,
“Right here beyond the rock pile. Dig!”
He did as she asked and about twenty minutes later, he came across a bag that was tied at the top. He took it out and untied it. He reached in the bag and pulled out a leg bone. Quickly, he dropped it back in the bag and tied it.
“That’s what’s left of me,” Virginia said, “but there’s more. Keep digging, just to the right of where you found my body.”
After a couple of minutes he had found a small box. Inside the box was an old Remington with the initials F W engraved on it.
“Frank Walton,” he said out loud.
“That’s right,” Virginia answered, “but it wasn’t Uncle Frank that pulled the trigger!”
“I know that much. Who was it?” Davis asked, becoming impatient as he put the Remington in his back pocket.
At that moment, Mary Walton drove up. Virginia went silent. Davis heard the car coming, grabbed the shovel and ran out of the woods towards the house. He was walking up to the driveway when Mary got out of her car.
“What are you doing off in the woods?” she asked as he walked up. Just as she asked this, the Remington fell out of Davis’ back pocket onto the ground behind him. When Mary saw this, her eyes took on a totally different expression. Her forehead wrinkled up as she gave off a hostile glare. That’s when it dawned on Davis that Mary Walton was the killer; only he didn’t know why she had killed the girl.
Mary tried to play it off like she didn’t know why he had the gun and the shovel.
“What are doing with that gun and that shovel Mr. Davis?” she asked, reaching slowly into her purse.
“I think you know!” he answered. She suddenly pulled her hand out of her purse revealing a can of mace. She sprayed Davis right in the face. He yelled and fell backward, rubbing his eyes as he writhed about on the ground. Mary grabbed the pistol and stood over him.