The Edenbury Chronicles - Vol 2 - Chapter 17

It was Friday morning at the Hughes’ home, and Olivia found herself standing on the front porch signing for an overnight package delivery. The large envelope was heavy and tattered. She looked it over as the courier drove off.

In the street, a pair of curious neighbors walked by. Olivia waved to the ladies and disappeared back into the house. 

She found Zeke and Lucy in the kitchen. 

“I think this is from Marcus,” Olivia declared, setting the package on the counter.  

Zeke wiped his hands on a towel and opened the envelope. Flipping through the stack of papers, he made a series of noises while Lucy and Olivia looked over his shoulder. 

“It’s a bunch of printouts,” observed Olivia.

Zeke continued his noisemaking.

“Anything you’d like to share?” asked Lucy. 

“They show the files and documents accessed by the hackers. Fake news stories, mostly.”

Olivia pointed at one of the documents. “Hey, look, it’s my biology homework!” 

“You uploaded your biology homework?” asked Zeke.

Olivia shrugged her shoulders, and they all had a good laugh.

Zeke paged through the remainder of the stack. “We know the what, but you’ll never guess the who and where,” he said.

Olivia’s hand shot in the air. “Is it an insurance company?”

“Not this time,” he replied.

“Real estate?” reckoned Lucy.

“No, but a good guess.”

Lucy took another turn. “It’s health care, isn’t it?”

“Getting warmer.”

Olivia knew it was her turn but struggled to keep the rapid-fire game going. “The government?”

“All fine guesses,” replied Zeke. “But I’m afraid it’s what I feared, only bigger.”

“Bigger?” asked Lucy.

“The hackers are overseas. These documents link the hackers to the global headquarters of a multi-national company that owns much more than just a chain of nursing homes.

“That’s not good,” announced Olivia. 

“I recognize the name,” continued Zeke. “It’s called The Winholder Group. Also known as TWG.”

“What other kinds of companies are we talking about?” asked Lucy.

“The Winholder Group is a giant in the end-of-life care industry,” Zeke laid the documents out on the kitchen counter and found the last page of printouts. “Marcus included the portfolio of companies. It includes funeral homes and cemeteries, florists, and more. 

“Florists?! How could florists be a part of anything evil?” exclaimed Olivia. “They sell flowers.”

Zeke started back on the first page of printouts. “We now have our link between the hackers and the corruption in Ames Hill.”

“What’s our next step?” asked Lucy.

Olivia jumped in. “Andrea Glenn was asking about juicy stories when she called yesterday. This definitely qualifies.”

“You talked to Andrea? How is she doing?” asked Lucy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t think to ask,” Olivia replied, taking the printout of her biology homework. “I was so excited to speak with her. She wanted to know if anything exciting was happening in Edenbury.”

“What did you tell her?” asked Zeke.

“Nothing, really. But she would love to hear about this."

“This isn’t quite ready for cable news or anywhere else," said Zeke. "This will have to come to light some other way. And we still don’t know what TWG is using to frighten the residents of Ames Hill.”

“And my father,” added Olivia.

“Yes,” agreed Lucy. “And your father.”

Olivia put her printout back on the counter and sighed. “I’m pretty sure we just drew a really big circle.”

—

After school, Anne and Rebecca sat on two kid-sized folding chairs on the front lawn of the Chronicle office between Eric and Rascal Rock. The yard ensemble now included:

Rascal Rock.

A small coffee table.

An adult lawn chair.

Two Tiki torches.

Two child-sized lawn chairs.

Eric.

Anne.

Rebecca.

Anne’s cat Mittens.

Eric, Anne, and Rebecca watched the kids playing across the street in the park while Mittens stretched out on Rascal Rock. 

“Know any good rock jokes?” asked Eric.

Rebecca’s hand shot in the air. The others waited.

“Knock, knock,” she began.

“Who’s there?”

“Watcher.”

“Watcher, who?”

“Watcher step, you might fall over a rock!” exclaimed Rebecca. “Get it? Watch your step?”

The girls laughed long and hard. 

“Very funny,” replied Eric.  

After they had settled down, the conversation turned to the big play.

“Mr. Eric, finding good talent is hard,” Rebecca began. “Most of the kids forget their lines, can’t pay attention, or even worse, have forgotten the story altogether.”

“Yes, how do we get the children to remember what happened here last fall?” Anne asked in frustration. “If only there were something we could do.”

Anne and Rebecca looked at Eric and waited. 

“I don’t think it’s limited to the children,” Eric finally admitted. “Getting people to remember is going to require something drastic.”

The girls continued to wait in silence. Eric leaned over and looked around as if to make sure no one was listening.

“I have an idea, but I’m going to need your help,” he said.

The girls teetered on the edge of their miniature lawn chairs. As Eric gave a series of instructions, Anne and Rebecca nodded. They grew excited when he pointed in the direction of the diner. When he finished, the girls jumped up and ran across the lawn to the street. Once across, they took off again out of sight.

Only mildly concerned, Mittens the cat raised her head, then fell back asleep.

Moments later, the door to the diner burst open. The girls ran in and scanned the area.

“Miss Cheryl!” yelled Anne. “We need your help again.”

Cheryl appeared from the back of the empty diner. The girls approached the counter. 

“Those Edenbury Chronicle articles you have on the wall,” Anne said, pointing to the frames. “We need to borrow them.”

“They may be the last in existence,” added Rebecca. “We need to help people remember what happened here, and Mr. Eric said he’ll reprint the articles in the paper to help promote our play.”

Cheryl looked up at her collection of articles. “If you recall, last time we talked about Mr. Eric, you ended up in tears,” she said.

“This is different. We’re friends now,” argued Anne. “We promise to give them back unharmed.”

“Well, it is a good idea, if I must say so,” Cheryl confessed as she began taking the faded articles off the wall. 

With arms full of frames, Anne and Rebecca carefully headed back to the Chronicle office with their precious cargo.

—

That evening, Zeke and Lucy relaxed in a set of chairs on the balcony off the library. They were enjoying their first spring season as a married couple and held hands as Zeke reclined with his feet on the railing.

“Do you remember when the railing broke, and you fell, and I thought you were dead?” he asked.

Lucy let her mind go back to the earliest days of their relationship. She remembered how liberated she felt getting out of the office, standing on the balcony of the handsome newcomer.

“But the wind caught me, and I floated down like an angel,” she replied. “I still remember your face when I looked up at you from the flowerbed.”

Zeke laughed. “The whole town was talking about it, and Angus found out before we even got back to work. Boy, was he mad.”

Lucy continued to reminisce. “What about the time we were downstairs and heard a thump in the library?” she asked. “We slowly crept up the stairs, afraid of what we might find. Turns out your mysterious library threw some of your insurance books on the floor.” 

“With some important clues for us,” Zeke replied. “We could use more help like that right about now.”

Just then, Sheriff Stephanie’s squad car appeared in the driveway below. Stephanie and Father Vance got out and looked up at Zeke and Lucy. 

“You have news from Marcus?” Stephanie yelled.

Zeke waved for them to come up, and he and Lucy were back in the present. Soon they were all gathered around the table in the library. 

“The documents from Marcus explain a lot, but they also create more questions,” Zeke said as he handed Stephanie the envelope.

She shared it with Father Vance.

“Looks like a bunch of code,” they said together.

“Marcus created a program that recorded what files were being taken from the computer at the Chronicle office and who was taking them,” Zeke explained. “And his program does some other things I probably shouldn’t tell you about.”

Sheriff Stephanie flipped through her stack of printouts. “This is plenty.”

The group went through everything from the beginning to get a better picture of how to expose the corruption in Ames Hill and the global conspiracy likely to be behind it.

“This overseas company—The Winholder Group—will they be monitoring activity at the Edenbury Chronicle indefinitely?” asked Stephanie. “Seems like they just took over for Heathrow.”

“Until they are stopped, yes,” replied Zeke.

Father Vance put down the papers he was holding. “Can I inject a spiritual component here?”

“Of course, Padre,” replied Zeke.

“I’m willing to bet there are other miraculous signs happening in Ames Hill. Our bizarre acts of nature weren’t limited to the Warren farm where the original miracle occurred. Other things must be happening in Ames Hill. It might be helpful to find them and, for lack of better words, partner with them.”

Stephanie agreed. “We could use more partners right about now. If we can expose the scandal in Ames Hill, the other companies in this group may fall like dominoes."

“I can understand why they want to shut down the miraculous activity on the hill, but how are they controlling the Mayor and everyone else?” asked Lucy. “We need to find out what they are using as leverage to threaten the entire town.”

Zeke turned to Stephanie. “Do you think you could have another chat with Bruce Davies? Our former Mayor knows all about blackmail. Perhaps he has an idea of how the people of Ames Hill might be caught up in something.”

“He certainly has the experience,” she replied. “First chance I get tomorrow.”

“And do we know anyone in the real estate business who will talk with us?” asked Zeke.

A voice came from the doorway. “I know someone,” said Olivia, carrying the usual tray of wine.

Stephanie turned toward the door. “How is it you know someone in real estate in Edenbury?” she asked.

“One of the new advertisers at the Chronicle is an agent. I just talked with him today. A nice guy. Commercial real estate, I think.”

Zeke leaned forward with great interest. “Do you think you could ask him to do a title search for the Ames Hill Nursing Home property?”

“A title search?” asked Lucy. “What will that tell us?”

“It’s just a hunch,” Zeke replied. “But I worked with the real estate department back at the Heathrow corporate office for a while, and it might turn up something.”

“Yes, I can ask,” Olivia replied. “Another thing, I know what else TWG could stand for.”

The group waited as she tucked the tray under her arm.

“Toying With God.”

Father Vance smiled. “Olivia, how is it every time you come in, you have something profound to contribute?” he asked. 

“You forget, I had lots of practice with the old Miracle Council. But to be fair, two of them didn’t talk, so there was lots of opportunity.” 

“Well, we’re all thankful you’re here,” said Father Vance. 

“I also have this to contribute.” Olivia said as she handed an envelope to Zeke. “It was in the mail. There’s no return address, but the postmark is your favorite place.”

“Ames Hill,” said Zeke, tearing the end off the envelope. “It’s from our friend at the motel.” Zeke unfolded a short note typed on the Ames Hill Motel letterhead.

Stephanie leaned over to Lucy. “Can the motel clerk be trusted?” she asked.

Lucy nodded. “Mr. Barney’s mother was taken from the nursing home and died shortly after being moved to a different facility. He’s worked at the motel for years, but it’s owned by the same company that ran the nursing home.”

Zeke finished reading the letter. “They’re planning to tear down the mansion on the hill.”

“Oh, dear,” sighed Lucy.

“The bad news gets worse,” added Zeke. “They want to level the hill altogether and put in a shopping center.”

“Is there any good news?” asked Father Vance.

“Yes,” replied Zeke. “We have a mole in Ames Hill.”

—

The Edenbury Chronicles - Vol 2 - Chapter 18

·

May 6, 2023

“Is there anything I can be doing?” asked Olivia as she turned on the new coffee maker at the Chronicle office. Eric gestured in the direction of the computer desk. “See that stack of framed articles?” he asked. “They can be retyped and saved in the computer.”