The Edenbury Chronicles - Vol 2 - Chapter 21

Tuesday night, the Miracle Council met in the library. Stephanie brought the list of addresses left behind by the men in the black sedan.

“I wish I had better news, but there doesn’t seem to be a pattern with these addresses,” she reported. “Based on the ones at the bottom, I think we can assume the addresses are in sequential order.” 

Zeke took the list and turned on the small copy machine in the corner. “I’d like to get this to Marcus,” he said. “Perhaps he can cross reference these with some databases to find a connection.”

“Connecting this list to historical events could be the breakthrough we need,” said Stephanie.

Zeke then walked to the nearby fax machine. “Not sure it will help, but I’m also sending Marcus the list of towns started by A.H. Greyson.”

When Olivia arrived with the evening tray of wine, she shared what Eric had told her about the two men at the park.

“Sounds like they had quite a day yesterday,” said Father Vance. 

Olivia slid a paper across the table. “Also, my real estate contact sent this. It confirms who owns the paper mill, but I missed the note about the mansion at the bottom. What does it mean when a building is on a national register of historical places?”

The group passed the paper around as Zeke returned from the fax machine. “It means it would be a federal crime to destroy the old nursing home,” he said.

Lucy turned to Stephanie. “Speaking of crimes, at what point do we turn this over to the state police or even the FBI?”

“When we have solid proof or have witnessed a crime,” Stephanie replied. “This is all circumstantial at best, and how the information was collected will be scrutinized.”

“Then, at what point do we call Andrea Glenn?” asked Olivia. 

“I think we’re getting close,” replied Zeke. “Our friend Miss Glenn is going to want to put June fifth on her calendar.”

—

Two days later, Zeke and Lucy watched from the library balcony as an express delivery truck stopped in front of the house. Neither rose to go downstairs.

“It’s kind of nice having a teenager around,” said Lucy. “Olivia is very helpful.”

Zeke watched the truck driver return to his vehicle. “Certainly helpful with this Ames Hill case.”

“When this is all over, and there is a resolution to the death of Father Gregory, what do you think will happen?”

“I don’t see Olivia just going back home,” he replied. “Maybe she has a career in advertising.”

Olivia stepped through the balcony door with a package nearly identical to the first express mailer from Marcus and handed it to Zeke.

“Thank you,” he said as he opened the package containing another stack of documents. 

As Zeke read the pages, he handed them around to Lucy and Olivia. The first report cross-referenced the addresses left behind by the two men at Mr. Clemmon’s house with the towns started by A.H. Greyson. Next was an assortment of newspaper articles.

“If this is what I think it is, Marcus has tied these addresses to news stories,” announced Zeke.

He held up one of the articles. “This one, for example, is a ranch that burned down in a suspected arson case.”

“And the address of the ranch was on the list?” asked Lucy.

Olivia was holding the list. “Yes.”

“How many newspaper articles are there?”

“About a dozen, including the Ames Hill article about the closing of the nursing home,” replied Zeke. “That article is tied to the home of the reporter who ended up dead.”

“That’s amazing, except there’s no way the address list could be used as evidence,” said Lucy. 

Zeke handed around another article. “Yes, the two men in the black sedan would have to testify against their employer.”

Olivia took one of the empty chairs on the balcony. “In the meantime, what if the Edenbury Chronicle reached out to these papers and said we were working on a story?”

“What kind of story?” asked Zeke.

Olivia flipped through the articles sent by Marcus. “All of these articles mention bizarre acts of nature,” she explained. “They also include some kind of tragedy. We could write an article on what happened here and the connection between our towns. How they were all started by A.H. Greyson.”

“These newspapers, they may or may not know anyone is monitoring what they print,” suggested Zeke. “Olivia, why don’t you see if any of the reporters on these stories will talk to us.”

“Assuming they are still alive,” added Lucy.

Olivia leaned forward in her deck chair. “Sounds like I have another assignment.”

Zeke handed her the file. “Make copies first, please. But we’re going to need Eric’s help,” he said. “And I have ideas for that.”

—

On his way out to enjoy his morning coffee, Eric found Sheriff Stephanie standing by her squad car.

“I need you to come with me,” demanded the sheriff.

“Is this a joke?” he replied. “Am I being arrested for too much stuff in the yard?” Eric walked past Rascal Rock and the vast array of yard art in front of the Chronicle building.

When Stephanie moved to open the back door for him, Eric could see Olivia smiling in the front seat. He paused, then slid in the back.

“Are we going on a road trip?” he asked as his door was shut for him.

“A short one,” Olivia replied.

“On our last adventure, we met the elk. Is this an elk thing?”

“No.”

“Do I need my camera?”

“No.”

Stephanie began driving and eventually turned the car down the road out of town.

“Are we going to the Warren farm?” Eric asked.

“No.”

“Was this your idea?” Eric asked.

Olivia shook her head. “No, but I wish it was.”

“I’ll just patiently sit back here then,” complained Eric. “Not that I have a choice in the matter.”

When the car finally pulled over to the side of the road, Eric could see Stephanie and Olivia exchange a grin.

“I’ll have to open your door,” said the sheriff. 

“I’m pretty sure you’ve taken me to the middle of nowhere to dispose of me,” Eric said to Olivia.

As soon as Stephanie opened the back door of the squad car, Eric was punched in the face by an incredible fragrance. Stepping out of the car, his nose led the rest of his body just off the road, where his eyes finally connected with a curious patch of wildflowers. Eric didn’t bother to look around at the surroundings. They couldn't have brought him there for any other reason.

“I’m not a flower person, but those don’t look normal and certainly don’t smell normal.”

“Aren’t they wonderful?” asked Olivia. “Stephanie found them back in the fall.”

“And they came back recently?” Eric asked.

“I was very sad over the winter,” replied Stephanie. “The flowers died as soon as the rocks in the park were destroyed, but here they are, even more spectacular.”

Eric knelt. With his hand, he pressed on the tiny flowers and was surprised at their durability. He turned to Stephanie. 

“These feel like coils on a mattress. There are so many of them. Have you tried—”

“Laying down?” 

Eric turned to see Olivia at the other end of the patch stretched out in the flowerbed. She was pressing handfuls of petals into her face.

“I have questions.” Eric stood and walked back toward the car. “Who else knows about these flowers?”

“Several others who I’ve brought here,” Stephanie replied. “Maybe others we don’t know about.”

Eric was trying to process the experience. “Does the smell stay on your clothes for a while?”

“Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Olivia asked from behind him.

“I did consider that,” Eric replied. “But my rock might get jealous.”

—

Friday night, Olivia and Eric showed up at the diner to join the others for the special of the day. 

Cheryl had just served the party of six when Olivia gave an update on her latest assignments.

“I talked to Anne and Rebecca today,” she reported. “They are fine moving the play back a week.” 

“I’ll take care of advertising it in the paper,” said Eric.

“All of the reporters we talked to were familiar with Edenbury,” Olivia continued. “Each of them suspects they are being monitored by an entity like Heathrow but didn’t know what to do about it.”

“Sounds like a great opportunity to help,” said Lucy.

“There’s more,” continued Olivia. “They all have bizarre acts of nature happening in their towns but are afraid to write about them. And, yes, they are asking for our help.”

Eric was new to the table and a little nervous. “How are you going to do that?” he asked. “Go to each of these towns and do what you did with Heathrow?”

“Eric, Father Vance, and I have been talking about this,” Zeke replied. “We’re going to need you to sit down at your special desk for this one.”

Eric looked up with a fork full of chicken parmesan in mid-air. “Okay,” he replied. “You need an article written? Who am I writing to?”

“To all these other communities,” replied Zeke. “It will be published simultaneously in these other papers. We have some ideas, but the rest will come to you.”

Father Vance continued the thought. “Part of the article needs to be a reminder of what happened in Edenbury. Maybe these other towns need to hear about last fall from your perspective.” 

“To help them connect,” added Zeke. “Maybe they don’t understand the mysterious things happening around them.”

“Even if I didn’t believe or could see what was happening myself?” asked Eric.

Father Vance put down his tea. “Precisely because you couldn’t see what was happening.”

Zeke continued. “Then, you may want to write about it starting again a few weeks ago,” he suggested. “Tell them about your journey.”

“Like your trip over Rascal Rock,” joked Olivia.

“And your trip to the flowers,” added Stephanie.

Eric smiled. “And my Warren wood desk.”

“What I think these other communities need to hear is that there is no stopping what is coming,” said Father Vance. “Your writing will be a great encouragement to them.”

“As well, whatever entities are monitoring the other papers will be put on notice,” said Zeke.

“I’m not sure I understand all of this,” confessed Eric. “But it sure sounds exciting.”

Zeke looked at Olivia. “While Eric is writing his article, you can call the reporters back. Tell them you have a story they will want to publish. Then ask for phone numbers to other newspapers who might also want to print the article.”

Olivia nodded her head. “When these articles are all published at the same time, what do you think will happen?” she asked.

Zeke sat back in his chair. “In my experience, the executives and Public Relations departments are going to respond,” he suggested. “And it won’t go well for them.”

“Those who continue to oppose the supernatural will have to answer for their actions,” said Father Vance. “The big question is, what will happen when there’s nothing holding back the cry of creation?”

The group took a moment to consider the idea.

“I may be late to the party,” said Eric, “but why is it crying?”

“Scripture uses the word groaning,” Father Vance explained. “It can’t be turned off or shut down because it’s pointing to a coming kingdom, and creation is pointing to its king.”

“I seem to remember something about that from Sunday school,” said Eric.

Cheryl appeared with a large dessert tray on her shoulder. “Who’s ready for Father Gregory’s favorite?” she asked.

Olivia’s eyes twinkled as plates of peach pie were passed around. 

“Speaking of Father Gregory,” said Zeke. “Loretta told us we hit a beehive with a baseball bat when we took down Heathrow. We’re about to do something much bigger. And when we’re ready, we’ll give Andrea Glenn a heads up.”

The table was silent until Olivia finished her dessert. “And what about Ames Hill?” she asked. “The festival at the mill is a week from tomorrow.”

Zeke looked around the table with a mischievous grin. “We’re all going.”

—

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