Like Son, Like Father
Part Seven
Timothy regained consciousness in a private room at Renfield Hospital.
He lay in
bed with his right leg immobilized in a cast and his hands completely bandaged
like
those of a mummy. Except for his face, feet and private parts, his entire
body was
covered with bruises and lacerations. As days passed, he learned how he
had been
rescued from the creek gorge that skirted the north property line of Chadwick
Estate.
He was told that, on the morning after Halloween, two college girls out for a
moonlight ride thought they saw a disoriented man run into the woods. They
called
out to warn him of the gorge, but he failed to respond. Suddenly, they
heard a
blood-curdling scream from the direction of the woods. Fearing the worst,
the two
young ladies rode back to the manor to ask for help. One of the two girls
- Stacy
Rodgers - appeared to be in a state of total shock. The other girl,
Darlene Lang,
immediately ran up to the third floor and, calling for help, repeatedly knocked
on
Denise Topaz's bedroom door. Denise had gone to bed only about an hour and
a half
before - after a long night of partying at the manor. When Darlene told
Denise what
she thought might have happened, Denise immediately got dressed in some blue
jeans,
hiking boots, a flannel shirt and some short riding gloves. She grabbed a
blanket,
a cell phone and a first aid kit.
Outside the manor, Denise mounted the same horse that Stacy had been riding
while
Darlene remounted her own horse.
"Follow me," said Denise. "I know a path that will take us down to the
creek bed."
Even though the sun had not yet risen, the sky had brightened enough for the
girls
to see easily. They rode far to the north and entered the woods on a
narrow,
winding path that took them down to the creek. As they rode along the
stream, the
walls of the ravine rose up on either side until they found themselves at the
bottom
of a gorge. Denise was the first to see Timothy lying unconscious in the
water at
the edge of the creek. She immediately phoned for an ambulance to come to
Chadwick
Estate.
"Darlene," said Denise. "Could you ride back to the manor to meet the
ambulance and
show the medics the way here? I'm going to stay here with Timmy until they
arrive.
But first help me get him out of the water and wrap this blanket around him.
I
think he's suffering from hypothermia!"
After the girls pulled Timothy from the water and rolled him in the blanket,
Darlene
rode back to the manor as fast as her horse would take her. When the
ambulance
arrived, she directed the driver across the hills to the path through the woods.
From there, the medics had to proceed on foot. They carried Timothy out of
the
ravine on a stretcher. Denise and Darlene were credited with saving
Timothy's life.
As soon as Timothy regained consciousness in the hospital, he had to talk with
the
police. He repeatedly told them the same story - that he had left the
dance at the
Church hall and driven to a Halloween party at Chadwick Estate. He said
that he had
learned of the party from overhearing students talking about it on campus.
The last
thing he claimed to remember was that he parked his car near the manor and got
out.
The local newspaper, the Renfield Gazetteer, reported that Timothy Horsewick
might
have been the victim of a hazing prank during a fraternity initiation. For
a few
days, the story of how the parson's son came to be found lying naked at the
bottom
of the creek gorge was the talk of the town. The relationship between
Timothy and
his father became severely strained. The Reverend Alvin Horsewick never
quite
believed his son's story. But he was no more able to budge Timothy from it
than the
police were. Eventually, like the police, he simply had to accept it - or
at least
accept the fact that he was never going to learn more about the incident from
his
son.
By midwinter, Timothy was home from the hospital and out of his cast. The
Reverend
Horsewick thought that his son seemed dissolute and distant. He was rarely
able to
engage Timothy in conversation. One afternoon when Timothy had gone to the
campus
library, Alvin Horsewick went through his son's room. On Timothy's desk,
the
Reverend Horsewick discovered a letter written on a piece of college notepaper.
It read: " Dear Timothy - I'm very sorry that I behaved the way I did
toward you
the night of the party. There is no excuse for the way I treated you, but
I feel I
owe you an attempt at an explanation. I was simply shocked that you found
me at the
party because I know that you always had this image of me as someone who was
very
pure and chaste. When you saw me in the hallway, I felt instantly put on
the
defensive. I know that's not much of an explanation, but I do hope that a
time
arrives when we speak with each other again and that I can make amends to you
for
what happened. - Stacy Rodgers."
Alvin Horsewick stood motionless for a moment with the letter in his hand.
Then he
set it back on Timothy's desk and walked downstairs. He went next door to
talk with
Stacy - specifically to ask her about what had happened on All Hallow Even.
The snow and ice crunched beneath the Reverend's feet as he trod up the walk to
Stacy's front porch. Resolutely, he climbed the porch steps and rang her
front
doorbell. There was silence inside the house. Suddenly, the Reverend
recalled
where Aunt Emily had always kept a spare key hidden up under a house shingle
near
the back door. Emily had always asked the Reverend to keep an eye on the
house
whenever she and Stacy were out-of-town. He went around to the back, found
the key
and let himself into the house. Calling Stacy's name, he strolled through
the
kitchen, dining room and living room. It was apparent that no one was
home.
Reverend Horsewick then walked up the staircase to Stacy's bedroom. He
stepped
through the door and then paused a moment in disbelief.
The Reverend saw a pair of knee-high black leather fashion boots with stiletto
heels
standing on the floor near Stacy's bed. Draped over the tops of the boots
was a
pair of long black leather gloves. On the bed, itself, the Reverend saw
another
pair of gloves. This pair appeared to be mid-arm length - slightly shorter
than the
pair draped over the boots. With a trembling hand, the Reverend picked up
the
gloves. He noticed whitish stains between each of the black leather
fingers. At
the same time, the Reverend also noticed a buggy whip, a bullwhip and a riding
crop
on Stacy's dresser top. Then the Reverend found a photo on the nightstand
next to
Stacy's bed.
It was a snapshot of Stacy that appeared to have been taken in a bar.
Stacy was
standing beside a young man seated on a barstool. She had one arm draped
around his
neck and over his shoulder. She was wearing black leather pants, a red
pullover and
short, skintight black leather gloves. With a shock, the Reverend noticed
that
Stacy held a lit cigarette between the gloved fingers of one hand and a bottle
of
beer in the other.
Suddenly, the Reverend heard the front door open and close. He held his
breath in
stunned silence as he listened to the sound of footsteps on the stairs.
Click here for part eight