The Boy Who Stopped Speaking is a work in progress and is unedited. It is the 3rd book in the Lindsey Scott Thrillsteries series and will most likely end up as a fully edited and formatted book published by Tom Tancin.  For now, enjoy the book as a work in progress and get a look inside the process. 

Other Lindsey Scott Thrillsteries

The Man in the Moon

Watched

(C) 2017 by Tom Tancin

November 7, 2010

Ashley Creek, SC

9:12 AM

    This wasn’t Rhett Mabury.  At least not the Rhett the congregation that sat in the pews staring at him knew.  And they knew a lot about him.  In fact, everyone knew a lot about everyone else in Ashley Creek.    

The eyes of confusion and concern seemed appropriate for the silence that settled the room.  Moments before, the boy had stopped just inside the doors of the church.  Pastor Ross, who was giving a riveting sermon, stopped speaking as soon as he’d seen the boy.  That’s when the entire congregation turned to look at what had captured the Pastor’s attention.  

Rhett Mabury.  A senior at Ashley Creek High School and the quarterback of the football team. A full scholarship locked in to play football at the school of his choice.  A decent student.  A good looking guy.  A girlfriend.  The world at his fingertips.  Standing in the aisle of the church.  Wearing only his boxers.  Shaking violently.  

The boy moved slowly down the main aisle, further into the church.  He walked with a slight limp.  Whispers broke the silence as the congregation watched intently.

Pastor Ross stepped down from the podium and started up the main aisle toward the boy until he reached him.  They stood nearly face to face. “Son, do you need help?”  

No response.  Not even an acknowledgement in the boy’s eyes.  The blue orbs stared right through Pastor Ross.  

“Rhett,” Pastor Ross said.  “What happened to you?”

Again, there was no response or acknowledgement.  But his silence certainly didn’t make sense.  He’d had no trouble speaking yesterday while doing an interview with the local news station after winning the playoff game against their rival.

Pastor Ross inspected the boy.  A glossy red-brown substance was on the boy’s chest.  And stomach.  And thighs. And hands.  Even the boy’s underwear had been stained carmine.

Pastor Ross surprised even himself with a gasp.  Rhett Mabury stood before him, spattered with blood.  Freshly dried blood, if he wasn’t mistaken.  Ross looked for cuts on the boy but found none.  It didn’t seem like this was his blood.  

Pastor Ross turned to his congregation. “Someone call 911.” But it wasn’t a necessary statement.  The members of the church had assessed the situation before Pastor Ross had even made a move to find out why the boy was there. Dozens of phones were already pressed to ears.  Just as many different stories were being spoken.      

Ross turned back to Rhett.  “What happened to you?”  It was a rhetorical question, because he knew he wouldn’t get a response.  Or it was as though he asked himself instead of the boy in front of him because he somehow felt that maybe he could get the answers if he asked the question aloud.  

Pastor Ross had seen enough troubled souls to know that whatever this was--whatever led to Rhett Mabury standing in front of him--was major. Life altering. Necessary of counseling. Counseling he could give. But first, the boy had to be looked at by a doctor. He had to be observed by the police to determine where the blood came from.

“Police are on their way,” a man in the congregation said.

“An ambulance too,” a woman added.  

“We’re going to get you help,” the Pastor told Rhett.  He wasn’t sure the boy could hear him, or if he understood him, but he said it anyway, if only to ease his own concerns.  But it didn’t ease his concerns.  Something big had happened to this boy and, even in this very early moment, Pastor Ross knew it wasn’t going to be easy to find out the truth.  And, just like it always went down in Ashley Creek, everyone would be in the middle of the investigation.  Everyone would have a theory.

November 7, 2010

Ashley Creek, SC

9:21 AM

    The thin woman with long brown hair entered the police station in a hurry and went to the counter.  An officer stopped what she was doing.  “Can I help you?”

    “My son is missing,” the woman said.  

    The officer picked up a small notebook from the nearby desk and joined the woman at the counter.  “What do you mean missing?”

    “I mean missing.  He’s not home.”

    “Is there anywhere he might go other than home?”

    “No.  We always go to church on a Sunday.  He never misses that.”

    “How did you learn he was missing?”  

    “He didn’t get up for church this morning and when I went to wake him, I found his room empty.”

    “What’s your son’s name?”

    “Kyle.”

    “Last name?”

    “Reily.”  

    “And your name?”

    “Julia.  Reily.”

    “Mrs. Reily, when did you last see Kyle?”

    “At the football game last night.  He’s the team’s kicker.”

    “So you were at the game?”

    “Yes.”

    “And what about after the game?”

    “My husband and I went home.  Kyle went with some of the players to get food.”  

    “And he didn’t come home last night?”

    “He wasn’t there this morning when I tried to wake him up.”  

    “But you didn’t know he wasn’t home last night?”

    “He went out.”

    “But you didn’t make sure he came home?”

    “He’s seventeen.  I let him live his life.”  

    “Do you have a recent picture of Kyle with you?’

    Julia put her purse on the counter and dug through it.  She pulled out her wallet and flipped through the plastic covered pictures.  Removing one, she handed it to the officer.  “That’s his senior picture.”  

    The officer looked at it.  “May I make a copy?”  

    “Of course.”  

    The officer took it to the copy machine and made a copy, then she returned.  “What’s his height?”

    “Ah...five eleven.”

    “Weight?”

    “One eighty; one ninety.  Somewhere around there.”  

    “Does he have a car?”

    “No.”

    “How did he get to the game?”

    “We dropped him off.”

    “Wouldn’t he need a ride home?”

    “I told you, he usually gets food with the guys from the team after the game.  One of them brings him home.”

    “He usually gets food with the guys or he did get food with the guys?”

    “I’m sorry?”

    “You told me earlier that he went for food with the guys.  Now you said that he usually gets food with the guys.”

    “I’m not sure I understand.”

    “Do you know if he actually went for food with the guys from the team?  Or are you basing that on what he usually does?”

    “That’s what he always does.”

    “But did he do that last night?  For sure?”

    “I...I’m pretty sure he would’ve went for food.  Where else would he go?”        

The officer stared at Julia for a moment, waiting to see what she would do or say.    But no other information was provided.  “Alright.  I’ll pass this to the detective when he comes in after church.  He’ll take a look into it and we’ll let you know what we find.  If you hear anything in the meantime, please let us know.”