Chapter 3

Small town crowds are no different than the ones in large cities when it comes to curiosity, except that smaller towns seem to have more of a concerted interest. It could be because they know the dirty secrets of almost everyone who lives there. Every person who stood in the crowd outside the McHenry house had more than the average case of curiosity and their own secrets. The elders in the crowd felt a sense of familiarity grip their hearts. Was this the possible repeating of a past that should have been erased from everyone’s memory?

The bad seed watched silently as people theorized what had gone on in the house, who the dead body was and why Mrs. Denton found it under the front porch. None of the theories were correct, but that didn’t matter. Soon rumors would take the town apart and that would be a pleasure to watch. The bad seed never could abide lukewarm attitudes. It is much better to be bitter cold about an issue or burn up with fervor over it than to be indifferent.

The intensity of the snooping crowd grew when the crime lab van pulled up about fifty minutes after Sheriff Eckle ordered their services; usually the drive took over an hour. Deputies had a hard time keeping people from stepping under the yellow tape, trying to get a better view of the activities. Angry accusing voices took over the crowd, demanding to know what was going on, taunting the Sheriff and the deputies. The subliminal contempt of the bad seed had penetrated the consciousness of the crowd, until August Carson reminded everyone that they should show the current Sheriff and his deputies the same respect that they had for Sheriff Brown, because he felt the new Sheriff knew what he was doing.

An embarrassed silence fell over the crowd. August was right and many hated to admit it. But seeing the crime lab at work brought out fear and speculation that none knew how to deal with. A shadow had crossed their minds, one that generated a darkness none of them knew how to dispel.

The bad seed observed Sheriff Eckle as he worked with the scene, making mental notes—absorbing both positive and negative attributes of the Sheriff’s style. With this case, the Sheriff had the opportunity to erase the name of his predecessor from the town’s mind, but only if he was able to erase the first taste of fear the town had in fifty years. The process wouldn’t be easy, because the bad seed would make sure of that.

The darkness hanging over the crowd lightened as it blended into the shadows. There were other actions to set into motion now that the first step had been taken. Sheriff Eckle’s voice was the loudest of the investigating crowd; eventually it would be the quietest. A dark door had been opened and all the sunshine of May couldn’t close it. Every soul would be touched by its malevolence.

(current WC = 1755)