Declan’s computer skills,
like those of any boy his age, were excellent. For the next week after discovering
the information about his father he spent all his free time trying to find out
more about him. He was able to access the records from the cemetery where Crispin
Hill had been buried. It gave him a name. Gerald Hill was listed as Crispin’s
father. There was no mention of Bryant Hill.
There was no mention of him
anywhere that Declan could find, which puzzled him. His father had have held a
job but if so his name didn’t come up on any site Declan knew how to access.
He supposed he could just
face down his mother and try to force her to tell him about Bryant, now that he
had a name and proof he was his father. Somehow though, knowing her, it
wouldn’t work. She would just pull her cool and aloof ‘I am your mother’
attitude and put off his questions. How he hated her when she did that.
How he hated her now for
keeping this a secret. So what if he
abandoned you, he’s my father; I have the right to know about him.
The more he thought about it
the more his anger grew. But he knew the solution to ease it. The same one he
always used. He just needed to go searching.
Being new to the
neighborhood, Declan understood he couldn’t do what he needed to there. It would
be too obvious. New boy, missing pet, people weren’t stupid.
“Mr. Ferris,” he said,
stopping the butler on his way down the hall. “Is there a good place around
here where I can run?”
The butler’s nose wrinkled
momentarily in disdain but he replied, “There is a park three blocks from here.
Shall I let the chauffeur know you need him to drive you?”
Declan rolled his eyes. “I
think, since the idea is to get some exercise, I can walk there on my own. I’ll
be back in time for dinner.” He walked quickly towards the front door before
Mr. Ferris could say or do anything to stop him.
He found the park easily
enough and it was just as he’d expected, large, well cared for, and full of people
with their children and/or their pets. As he ran along the paths, dodging
around the slower people, he kept an eye open for what he needed. Then he
spotted the older woman tugging the leash of a small, yapping dog as she tried
to get it to follow her out of the park, away from the direction of his new
home. When she finally succeeded Declan kept pace a few hundred yards behind
them.
The rest was easy. The woman
lived in a nice house with a fenced backyard. She released the dog there before
going inside. The sun was almost down; all the families who lived close to her
were apparently eating supper as he saw no one who might spot him. Cautiously
he opened the back gate and knelt, calling softly to the dog. It came over to
see what he wanted and he grabbed it, one hand around its jaws to keep it
quiet. Then, smiling in anticipation, he returned by a safely circuitous to the
park. There was a thick stand of trees at one edge of it which would hide him
perfectly while he killed and eviscerated the dog.
He pictured his mother as he
made each cut and slice, imagining it was her, the woman who had denied him the
father he had so long longed to know. When he was finished he buried the bloody
corpse by piling leaves over it. Then, making certain there was no blood on
him, he wiped his pocket knife clean. After he put it back into his pocket he
casually walked out of the park and returned to Reginald’s house. He felt
renewed and refreshed, his anger gone. For now.
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