Posts Tagged ‘Roy Simmons’

Redcross Pt. 12

December 9, 2017

Redcross

“What do you mean by that, Sheriff?” Reverend Roy Simmons asked. “I am just a simple small town reverend at a Methodist church.”

“Bullshit, Reverend,” Sarah said. “Twice now you’ve come to the rescue with that rifle of yours. I didn’t think they taught that at any seminary school.”

“Maybe I wasn’t always a reverend, Sheriff,” Simmons said. He folded his arms across his chest and for a moment, Sarah thought she might have gotten things wrong. But only for a moment.

“Which circles us back to me asking what you are,” Sarah said. The two of them locked eyes and Sarah started to stare him down. She had trained this particular skill by being hardheaded with her father. He was a hard man when he had to be and he had not let Sarah get away with a whole lot unless she fought for it. Nowadays, she mostly used the look on rowdy kids in town but it was also well-suited for grown adults who had something to be guilty about. After only a moment, Simmons sighed and took a step back into the church.

“Come on in,” Simmons said. “Do you want some coffee?” He started walking off toward the kitchen even before she could answer.

Sarah walked through the door and nodded. “Please and thank you, Reverend.”

Sarah walked into the church. She had had some difficulty attending the church for a while after her father died. In the aftermath, Sarah had been named the new sheriff by most of the important people in town. It was not pity that guided the town to elect her. She had been close to her father and knew what went into the job. The job had consumed her that first week and then several of the weeks that followed. Once she resurfaced, getting back into the routine of going to church was not an easy task. It was important to the town for the sheriff to be there, though, no matter what her feelings might be. Now she went every Sunday but her recent suspicions about Reverend Simmons threw all of that on its ear.

Simmons came back with the coffee and they sat down in the little sitting area just off from the sanctuary. Simmons waited for Sarah to sit first which annoyed her a little in the moment but she went ahead and sat instead of arguing over pettier things. When organized, unkillable mountain lions were doing battle with wolves in the streets of Essex, it was not the time to quibble over niceties. Sarah sipped her coffee, eyes locked on the Reverend. They were both silent for a few moments as Sarah waited for the Reverend to start talking and the Reverend seemed quite comfortable in silence.

“So Reverend,” Sara said. “Do you want to answer the question or do you want to continue evading it in favor of coffee and a pleasant chat?”

“I have never evaded a question before, Sarah,” Reverend Simmons said before sipping his coffee.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed slightly. “That’s too close to a lie, Reverend. I saw you make shots a normal man wouldn’t hit in a million years last night. You also carried yourself well with that rifle out near the mine. You can trust me, Reverend, I just want to trust you again myself.”

Simmons took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair. “I served in the army for a time. They trained me and apparently, I displayed natural talents with firearms. Eventually, my way of thinking did not align with that of the Army and I requested my leave. Once that was granted, I was lost and found myself with the Salvation Army at Lochiel where I discovered a penchant for preaching so I chose to do that instead of fighting. The church here in Essex was empty so I eventually came to lend my voice.”

“I hadn’t heard the Army part of that story before,” Sarah said. “I had heard the rest. What do you mean when you say you didn’t get along in the Army?”

“I’m not a violent man,” Simmons said with a shrug.

“I would be liable to believe that if I hadn’t seen you with that rifle, Reverend,” Sarah said. Something was not adding up with his story. If he had forgone violence, why keep the rifle? he knew for a fact that Simmons didn’t hunt which also put what he was doing out near the mine in question as well. Even if what he said had been a hundred percent true, something just did not feel right.

“I am not a violent man,” Simmons said again. “or at least I don’t want to be. I wasn’t into fighting Indians or Mexicans. I felt like there was a greater purpose out there.”

Sarah smiled a bit at that. “I can commend you for not going after the natives or the Mexicans.” She thought of Senora Chilton, the woman who had warmed over Death himself. “So, was your greater calling the church or something else?”

“I’m not sure how much I want to reveal, Sheriff,” Simmons said. “No offense.”

“Reverend Roy Simmons,” Sarah said in her most authoritative voice. It was stern, it was hard and it could command a room when she pulled that voice out. “After last night and what we saw at the mine, this town is in trouble. People are talking all sorts of lunacy out there. If you know anything that could help us then it is time to spill everything.”

Roy Simmons watched her for a moment and then set his cup aside and then watched her again. “I found something else in Lochiel besides my faith.  I found a greater calling, one I never thought I would have to answer again.  I am part of a secret organization that has existed for centuries. It is called the Order of the Red Cross.”

Sarah’s eyes popped open at that name.

Redcross Pt. 6

May 14, 2016

Redcross

It was about dinnertime when Sarah got back to her office. She had to search around for more signs of those ugly rag men who had blown the mine. She wished she had tied the unconscious one up when she had the chance. Her nerves had been a little frayed after the explosion and the gunfight. She had allowed her curiosity and Roy Simmons to distract her. It made her mad as Hell. She was mad at the murderer, mad at the men at the mines and mad at Roy Simmons too. Most of all, she was mad at herself for not handling things right.

Of course, she had never dealt with an actual murder mystery before. She had also never seen anybody like those things at the mine before. She had also never seen anything like the carvings at the mine or that type of stone either. It had certainly been a red letter day and Sarah was frustrated and dog-tired as she hung up her hat. She unbuckled her gun belt and hung it up as well. She took out her pistol and carried it over to her desk. It was time to do a little maintenance and cleaning to make sure she was ready for another firefight. To say that another firefight was an unwelcome phrase was a bit of an understatement.

“Sheriff Redcross? Are you here?” A tiny voice asked as the door opened with a jingle of the bell. It was only the fact that her gun was half taken apart that saved Holly Dawson from getting shot. Sarah thought she had locked that door but she realized she was tired and distracted enough to have forgotten.

“Oh! There you are. Sorry for intruding,” Holly said. She glanced at the lamps around the room. Most of them were off. There was a little desert finch on Holly’s shoulder and it looked almost as curious as young Holly.

“Oh sorry, Holly. I haven’t turned the lights on yet. I just got in,” Sarah said. She checked her pocket watch. “Oh, I guess it was already twenty minutes ago. It’s been a long day, Holly.”

“I can imagine, Sheriff. You do so much for Essex,” Holly said. Her voice was soft and if you did not know her, you might think she was shy.

“Can I help you, Holly?” Sarah asked.

“Oh! I was just wondering if you were hungry.” Holly said with a sweet smile. The bird hopped back and forth on her shoulder, strangely silent this whole time. Sarah’s stomach grumbled and she hoped it was not loud enough to hear. Holly was carrying a dish.

“I wouldn’t turn down food kindly given, Holly. You didn’t have to bring that over, though. You know that, right?” Sarah asked with a smile. She pushed her gun forward on her desk so that Holly could set the dish down.

“Oh yes, ma’am but I remember that you used to bring your father dinner from our house,” Holly said as she set the dish down. Holly Dawson’s family had indeed helped feed Sarah and her father not too long ago. They were friends with everybody in town and Holly’s dad ran the general store. Holly herself was a quiet girl with an affinity for birds and she had always been eager to please.

“Angling for a deputy job, Holly?” Sarah asked with a sly smirk on her face. She was teasing, there was little chance of that. This was confirmed by the blush and flustered look on Holly’s face.

“No, of course not, Sheriff. I really just want to cook someplace someday,” Holly said. She was still blushing furiously and the finch was starting to get excited. Sarah decided to give her a break.

“But seriously, Holly, I’d like to thank you and your family for the help you’ve given my family. You’re always welcome here as long as long as I don’t have somebody in lock up.” Sarah said.

“I suppose that’s a deal, Sheriff,” Holly said with a satisfied little smile.

“I won’t even hold you to it. I won’t expect you.” Sarah said. She needed to make that clear.

“Understood, Sheriff. I’ll be here when I can. I need the cooking practice,” Holly said.

“What’s for dinner tonight then?” Sarah asked.

“Rabbit stew,” Holly said.

Sarah dug in and was quiet for a long time while Holly watched her eat. Sarah truly felt at peace after a few moments. She really loved the food but she also made a conscious effort to make little happy noises. Holly was standing right there and it seemed only right. Halfway through she pulled out a bottle of sasparilla. She was done way quicker than she thought she would be.

“That was delicious, Holly. Boy, you are an amazing cook. Best in town but don’t tell your mother. How do you do it?” Sarah asked.

“The proper seasoning is really the key to a good meal. At least, that’s what I think.” Holly explained.

“Wait, did you say ‘key’?” Sarah asked.

“I think so. Did I? Why do you ask, Sheriff?” Holly asked. The little finch on her shoulder cocked its head.

“Nevermind, Holly. One day I’ll tell you the whole thing but for now, I have to play it close to my vest.”

“I understand, Sheriff. I’ll try to keep my curiosity in check.”

“At least you’ve given me the whisper of an idea. If it works out, maybe you’ll earn that tin star yet.” Sarah said and winked at the girl.

Redcross Pt. 5

April 21, 2016

Redcross

The smoke cleared as Sarah walked toward the head of the mine. She had only been out here the one time before, shortly after her father had died and she had gotten the job of sheriff. She had ridden out to the mine but it was severely boarded up and those boards had been very secure. She had been satisfied that there would be no sneaking into the mine, not even by curious little children. She had no idea why anybody would try to blow the thing open. Everyone had told her that the thing had dried up a long time ago, longer than anybody could remember. At that point, the town had all but withered but somehow the smaller population thrived without it.

The mine was still smoking as Sarah approached but the smoke was not stinging her eyes anymore and she could breathe easy again. There were wood shards all over the ground and Sarah kicked them aside. If there were nails, she sure as hell did not want them going through her boots. She looked up as the smoke cleared and she saw that the boards had all been broken away like ribs broken away when gutting a deer. Sarah thought there should have been an opening in the rock. There was no such opening. The rock face was dark and glossy. She looked back and Simmons was standing there, his rifle still in hand. He gave her a sheepish smile.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff Redcross. I got curious and had to see what the fuss was all about.” Simmons said, taking some round-framed glasses from his pocket and putting them on.

“Careful of the debris, Preacher,” Sarah said. He had already left his post, he might as well see what there was to see.

“Have you ever seen anything like this, Mr. Simmons?” Sarah asked. She brushed some soot and dust from the surface of the wall. It fell away in a little cloud.

“No, I definitely have not. Am I mistaken or is there some sort of writing here?” He asked.

“What?” Sarah asked. She looked closer at the black, glossy surface and there was definitely something carved there. Actually, the whole thing was carved with something that was not writing or at least was not writing that Sarah recognized. She found herself shaking her head in confusion but realized that might be confusing. “There is something carved there but it’s not English. I don’t know what it is, Preacher.”

“It’s a mystery, Sheriff. I wish I knew which language it is. I could try and find out for you  if you want.” Simmons said. He got even closer to squint at the carvings.

“What do you mean? How would you do it, Pastor Simmons?” Sarah asked. She was intrigued. She had never really seen Simmons do anything besides drink and attend to his ministerial duties. She had no idea what his qualifications for translating mysterious writings.

“I have a couple trunks full of books. I can order more. I have plenty of time between services.” Simmons said with a smile. “I love a good mystery too.”

“You’re just full of surprises today, Preacher. First, you prove yourself a crack shot and now a scholar. Are you sure you’re just a simple pastor from Lochiel?”

“Last I checked. Though I have been many places before there and though I am still young, I have lived quite a life.” He replied.

“Roy Simmons, I’ll have to keep my eye on you,” Sarah said with a smile. Though she wondered if she wasn’t missing something about him. “I would appreciate your help with this. They wanted this for some reason and we have to find out why.”

“Well, I guess I’m at your service, Sheriff,” Simmons said. He had shouldered his rifle and was scribbling a few notes in a small pad of paper.

“Listen, Roy, can I count on you keeping this a secret?” Sarah asked.

“Why, Sheriff Redcross, I thought you swore to fight for truth and justice,” Simmons said with a mocking smile.

“Don’t sermonize me, Preacher. Sometimes truth takes a backseat to justice when I have to worry about keeping my town safe,” Sarah said. She walked past Roy and headed toward the gap in the rocks. Simmons followed behind her, putting his little notebook away.

As they turned the corner, the first thing they noticed was that the body was gone. Sarah cursed and spit on the ground with feeling. She had not heard a single sound from the area around the area of the body. She looked over at Simmons who looked embarrassed.

“I’m sorry, Sheriff. My curiosity lost us a large piece of evidence,” He said.

“Don’t worry, Preacher. I’ll solve this one way or another. Let’s just get back to town before something else tries to kill us.” Sarah said. She headed for her horse with a really bad feeling in her stomach.


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