The Crossroads

It was almost two a.m.

Judy doubled back to Miss Spratling’s bedchamber in the mansion’s massive library. Between bookcases, she noticed one wall panel was slightly larger than all the others. She pushed against it and the whole wall slid open.

“Hello?”

She walked down the dark corridor and into the chapel.

“Oh, my,” she gasped when she saw all the statues.

“Handsome, isn’t he?”

Miss Spratling was standing behind her in that yellowing bridal gown, a lacy cape draped across her withered shoulders.

“Where’s Zack?” Judy demanded. “What have you done with my son?”

Miss Spratling ignored her, moved to another statue.

“Where did you take Zack, you old witch?”

“Such language? In a chapel?” Miss Spratling clucked her tongue. “Shame on you, Mrs. Jennings! Shame, shame, shame.”

“Where is he?”

“Well, dearie, I imagine he is burning in hell!”

“Sheriff?” Judy yelled up the hallway. “She’s in here!”

“Yes, I imagine he’s down there paying for the sins of his hideous grandfather.”

“You know what, Miss Spratling? Your father was right. You are ugly. Not your face—even though it does sort of look like a withered old apple. No. I’m talking about your soul. It’s beyond ugly. It’s hideous.”

“How dare you speak that way to me!”

“I know how your father bought you a boyfriend.”

“He did no such thing!”

“Yes, he did. He paid Clint Eberhart to be nice to you.”

“Go! Leave here now!”

“Or what?”

“Judy?” Sheriff Hargrove came into the chapel.

“Officer! Arrest this woman! She is being verbally abusive!”

Judy smiled. “The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”

“Arrest her this instant!”

“Judy?” Hargrove put his hand on Judy’s shoulder. “Back off. She’s not worth it.”

“She has Zack.”

“We found her; we’ll find him. You’ve done enough.”

Much to Miss Spratling’s delight, Sheriff Hargrove took Judy’s elbow and led her out of the chapel.