The Girl in the Wych Elm: Part Four

 

4. The Place Between Two Towers

“I don’t mean to pry into your business sir, but what on Earth brings you out here to Wych Elm of all places?” Hollis told the driver he was there to visit family. “Uh…huh…” Hollis glanced the driver’s skeptical expression in the rearview mirror.

 “Is there something wrong?” Hollis pressed the man. The driver’s eyes returned to the road.

“You’re lying.” The man told Hollis matter-of-factly. “I know what you’re about to say next. ‘What gave my lie away?’” The answer was a simple one: Hollis’ demeanor and manner of speech. “Wych Elm is geographically isolated compared to other towns in this region. Most Wych Elmites don’t talk like you. You grew up in the city or within proximity to one.” Hollis smiled, congratulating the driver on his sharp deductive reasoning.

Even so, Hollis would not divulge his reason for visiting Wych Elm. “Some matters are best kept quiet.” The driver responded with a nod. Hollis was intrigued the man didn’t press him for further information.

“The last outsider that came to Wych Elm was thirty years ago.” The driver told Hollis in an ominous tone. “Unsure of what happened to the fella’. I dropped him off at the bridge,” the vehicle stopped at the bridge, “and never saw him again.” That was the end of his anecdote.

Hollis dismissed the driver’s words as exaggeration. The last outsider probably settled down in Wych Elm and started a family. “You’ll have to forgive me for being skeptical.” Hollis replied dryly to the man.

As the old detective prepared to exit the car, the driver quickly flipped on the Child Lock. Hollis’ face darkened. He locked eyes with the driver through the rearview mirror, glaring hard at him. The driver was an older, frail man and didn’t appear much of a threat to Hollis. Appearances were deceptive, however. Hollis was prepared to fight if called for.

“See…that’s the thing.” The driver turned off the Child Lock. “Outsiders aren’t welcomed in Wych Elm.” When Hollis asked why that was, the driver gave him no answer. “Enjoy your visit. Maybe we’ll meet again.” The driver’s tone gave Hollis the impression their reunion was unlikely.

Awaiting Hollis on the other side of the rusted footbridge was the town of Wych Elm. The wooded area that encompassed the town was eerily quiet. Hollis was unnerved by the lack of natural sounds such as chirping birds and rustling leaves. Even the creek that flowed under the bridge was still. There was something off about the area to Hollis.

“Huh?” Hollis stopped halfway across the bridge. He noticed something carved into the bridge railing. “‘The road to damnation lies between two Towers.’” There was a carved arrow pointed in the direction of Wych Elm. Hollis chuckled softly to himself. “Let’s see where this road takes me then.”

The moment Hollis crossed into town all eyes were immediately focused on him. He felt like the main attraction in a freak show. Their shocked, wide-eyed stares made Hollis uncomfortable. Two sets of eyes watching him constantly were miserable enough; a hundred plus pair of eyes watching him was an utter nightmare. “I’m starting to regret my decision to come here…” He mumbled while shuddering at the same time. An agreement was an agreement, however. Hollis never went back on his word once he gave it (unless there were circumstances out of his control).

Wysteria arranged lodging accommodation with her relative, Juniper. Hollis was instructed to go there immediately once he arrived in town. Wysteria’s relation with Juniper wasn’t disclosed to Hollis by either woman. Not that it was of much importance to him or his task.

Juniper’s house was a quaint, two-story cottage located in a somewhat isolated area of Wych Elm. The description of the house Wysteria gave Hollis was startling accurate. Before he had the opportunity to knock, the door swung open. Hollis nearly stumbled off the porch steps when he laid eyes on the woman in the doorway. “You’re Det. Hollis Alexander, I take it?” She craned her head slowly to the side.

“What kind of morbid ass joke are you playing?” He snapped, turning red with anger. Juniper furrowed her brows, confused by Hollis’ accusatory question. Hollis reacted that way because Juniper’s resemblance to Wysteria was nearly identical. They looked like the same person, which stumped and frightened Hollis. Wysteria had informed him that Juniper was a distant relative with whom she wasn’t all that close with. “You and Wysteria…you have to be twins… There’s-there’s no way!” Juniper's mannerisms mimicked Wysteria's to a T. The only notable differences between the two women were the location of their beauty marks and their hair style. Juniper’s beauty mark was on her chin; her hair was braided into a crown.

A smile stretched across the young woman’s face, though it lacked the warmth of friendliness. “Wysteria and I get that a lot.” She giggled in a childlike manner. “It’s hard to explain. To keep it simple, let’s just say the women in our family have a strong genetic phenotype.” She opened the door wider, inviting Hollis inside. “Please, come in.” Hollis set his skepticism aside (temporarily) and made his way into the house. However, he remained alert around Juniper and suspicious.

“Not a fan of home décor, are you?” Hollis dryly told Juniper as she led the way upstairs. Juniper’s house was dismally plain and bare. She had only the essential things and nothing more.

Juniper’s smile stretched again. “I don’t intend to be here much longer.” She told Hollis she was in the process of leaving Wych Elm for good. She had spent her entire life in that town, and it had been a miserable life. “Once your affairs here are done, I won’t be far behind you.” Hollis then asked the woman where she was headed after Wych Elm. Juniper replied, “to a kinder place.” The answer she gave Hollis wasn’t what he expected.

The room Juniper set Hollis up in was just as bare as the rest of the house. Hollis didn’t mind the near empty space. The room had everything he needed for his stay: a bed, a chifforobe with a mirror, a chair and desk. Hollis didn’t need anything more than that.

He slung the heavy suitcase onto the bed. Hollis was told to make himself at home, but he found himself on the fence about the matter. The man debated on whether to unpack completely or live out of his suitcase. I don’t intend to be here long. He said to himself. But I really hate living out of a suitcase. Hollis decided to unpack; he didn’t bring much with him anyway.

“The bathroom is at the end of the hallway.” Dinner was underway. Juniper informed Hollis it would be another hour or so. That was fine with him. He would scope around town for a little intel. Juniper blocked the way with her arm. “Det. Alexander… It goes without saying but please be careful out there.” Juniper reiterated the previous statement told to Hollis by the taxi driver.

Outsiders aren't welcome in Wych Elm.

“So I’ve been told.” Hollis had also witnessed that statement firsthand upon his arrival. “Before I leave out, I have a question.” He asked Juniper about the body found in the wych elm tree. “I wasn’t sure if Wysteria told you or not. That’s why I’m here. She wants me to solve the girl’s murder.”

Why exactly? Wysteria didn’t tell him. To Hollis, the dead girl was clearly someone important to her.

Juniper replied that she only knew as much as Hollis did. “The tree bordered the estate of the Crimson Hightower family. The body appears to have been dead for a very long time. Supposedly, her wrists and ankles were bound with rosaries.” She and the rest of the Wych Elmites only knew as much as the Hightower family allowed.

Wysteria had told Hollis the High Families, particularly the Hightower families, would be obstacles in his investigation. Juniper cautioned Hollis to tread carefully. In a sarcastic tone, Hollis replied, “Guess I can go ahead and cross ‘Interviewing the High Families’ off my to-do list.” He rolled his eyes in frustration. It wasn’t directed at Juniper but at the situation.

“An ideal place to start, in my opinion, would be the town pub.” Juniper looked over at the clock. It was a quarter till four in the evening. “It’s almost Happy Hour. The men that frequent Sam’s pub are quite boisterous and loose-lipped.” She hinted to Hollis that some of the men there had close ties to the High Families.

Hollis placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Juniper.” He promised the young woman he would be careful and would return before sunset. 

Sam’s pub was packed from the door to the back of the house, dangerously over legal capacity. The harsh stench of cigarette smoke, sweat, and musk attacked Hollis’ nose. He quickly switched to mouth breathing, though it brought him little relief. The excessive body heat that circulated throughout the establishment made the air hot, heavy, and humid. “I’d rather deal with the ghosts all day than this.” He remarked in a grossed out, nasally tone.

Hollis caught several vicious glances from the patrons around him as he made his way to the bar counter. “Can I get a glass of Bourbon, please?” He yelled to the first bartender that crossed his sight. She was a greasy-haired woman with a round face and unflattering eyes. Hollis was promptly ignored by her. He tried again with the next bartender. The man was on the shorter side; he had a thick unibrow and a few missing teeth. The short bartender man told Hollis to give him a minute.

A minute passed. The bartender never took Hollis’ order. Every time Hollis said something to the man, he had an excuse and then scurried off. It was painfully obvious to the old detective that the short bartender didn’t want to serve him. Hollis tried one last time. If he was ignored again, he would return to Juniper’s cottage.

The third bartender, another man, coldly dismissed Hollis by turning his back to him. He eventually moved to the opposite end of the counter to serve other patrons. Hollis pushed up to his feet. “A town full of assholes-”

“-Jonah.” Hollis looked over and saw a hand waiting for him. The friendly Wych Elmite repeated his name a second time to the bewildered Hollis. “My name is Jonah.” He said with a warm kindness Hollis would never again encounter during his stay in town.

Hollis reached out and shook Jonah’s hand. “The name is Hollis.” He told his new buddy in a cautious tone. Hollis was uncertain about the man’s friendly demeanor. Nevertheless, he put on a front, acting as if Jonah had won his trust.

Jonah called out to Daisy, the first bartender that ignored Hollis. She and Jonah appeared to have a good relationship because the woman’s face lit up when he called her name. Daisy came scurrying over to where Jonah sat at the bar. She leaned over the counter. The shirt she wore was too small for her large bosom. Hollis saw down into her shirt. “What can I get for you, babe?” She asked, batting her long lashes at Jonah. Daisy was secretly smitten with Jonah, but her feelings had gone unrequited for years. Her desperate attempts at flirtation were embarrassing to watch from Hollis’ perspective.

“I’ll have my usual.” Jonah looked over to Hollis. “And get my cousin Hollis here whatever he wants.” Daisy’s smile faded away when she laid eyes on Hollis again.

She shifted to her left side. “Your cousin…huh?” She squinted at him. Daisy knew that Hollis being Jonah’s cousin was a complete lie. She had known the man for years. Jonah didn’t have a cousin named Hollis. Regardless, she wouldn’t argue the matter. “So, whaddya want?” The woman’s tactless question had Hollis rethinking his decision about a drink.

She looks like the type of woman who would spit in my drink then turn around and serve it to me with a smile. Hollis thought to himself. “Bour-” Daisy stalked away before Hollis had a chance to get his order out. She returned seconds later, still wearing that sour expression of hers.

Daisy slammed the bottle and glass down on the counter. The people near the bar counter all turned around to see what the noise was about. “Enjoy.” She rudely slid the objects over to Hollis before walking off again.

“What a delightful woman…” Hollis remarked sarcastically, pouring a full glass of Bourbon. He took two huge gulps. Without warning, Hollis spat the liquid back into the glass. “Urgh… What kind of shit Bourbon is this?!” Hollis had never tasted a Bourbon so…foul in taste. “Prison Hooch tastes a lot better than this.” Jonah curiously raised his eyebrow at Hollis over the statement. “My neighbor across the street… He did a couple years in Federal awhile back.” Jonah simply nodded. Hollis pushed the bottle and glass away from him. “I’m having a fantastic evening so far. Can’t wait to see what else is in store for me.” Hollis, in fact, was not having a fantastic evening.

Jonah downed his pint of beer in almost one go. He gently placed the glass on the bar counter. “So, what’s your reason behind this unwarranted visit, cousin?” Jonah slyly motioned to the three men sitting to his left. The trio were listening in on their conversation and couldn't have made it any more obvious. It appeared they wanted Hollis and Jonah to know they were listening.

Hollis exhaled. He leaned onto the counter. “I’m here to see Julia. You remember her, right? She lived two houses down from me. I heard she wasn’t doing too well. So, I came to visit. I wanted to see how she was doing.”

“Her brothers won’t be excited to hear you’re back in town. You did break Julia’s heart all those years ago.” Jonah sipped at his beer. Daisy refilled the glass on her way down to the opposite end of the bar.

Hollis smiled. Jonah had caught on to his game. “I haven’t forgotten. That’s the other reason why I came back to Wych Elm. I owe her a long overdue apology.” Jonah shook his head with disappointment. The smile on Hollis’ face dimmed when he peeped the man’s body language.

“Can I give you some advice, cousin?” Hollis shrugged. “A long overdue apology isn’t worth trouble with Julia’s brothers.” Jonah told Hollis to go back home. “Julia’s brothers…” He shook his head. “They’re a different kind of dangerous.” Jonah told Hollis in a foreboding tone. The fear in the older man's eyes shown brightly like a star in a dark sky.

Hollis looked down at his palms. “I made a promise, cousin.” He clenched his hands. “I have to see Julia one last time. She deserves to know why I broke her heart.”

Jonah picked up the glass refilled by Daisy a third time. “Nothing about you has changed since we were children. You’re a stubborn jackass as ever.” He chortled. Maybe it was the alcohol but for a split second, Jonah saw a younger version of himself in place of Hollis. “Your mind is made up, I see.” And that worried Jonah terribly. Hollis confirmed with a nod. “Let’s go take a walk.” Hollis pulled out his wallet, but Jonah said the drinks were on him. “You can pay the next time we see each other.” He winked. Hollis tipped Daisy a twenty, even though the foul woman didn’t deserve a cent from him.

The same ocean of eyes watched Hollis as he and Jonah headed for the exit. The three men who watched them at the bar remained where they were, which Hollis found rather suspicious.

“You don’t want to cross the High Families, son.” Jonah grimly told Hollis when they were out of earshot of nosy ears. “You’re better off cheating the Devil in a game of chess.” Jonah wasn’t exaggerating about that either. Enemies of the High Families always vanished in mysterious ways. “I’m telling you one last time. Go home.” He said, almost pleading with Hollis.

Hollis remained unrelenting. He told Jonah not to worry about him. “I’m certain the High Families are no eviler than the people I’ve encountered in my past.” Jonah stared at him with a blank expression. Hollis was a fool; noble but still a fool. 

“You’re an intelligent man, Mr. Hollis. It shows in the way you speak and carry yourself. But you’re barking up the wrong tree here.” No pun intended. Hollis told Jonah he wasn’t leaving Wych Elm until he settled his affairs. Jonah silently prayed and grieved for Hollis’ well being. “Well…this is where we part ways.” Before Jonah disappeared under the cover of night, he disclosed to Hollis the names of the men who discovered the body in the tree.

Hollis offered Jonah his hand. “I appreciate the intel.” They shook hands. “If we meet again before I leave town, I’ll buy the first two rounds.” Jonah was unable to force a smile. He knew he would never see Hollis again. The High Families were more than likely alerted to an outsider in town. As Jonah and Hollis spoke, the High Families had their minions looking into Hollis' background. Jonah anticipated Hollis would be dead before sunrise.

Jonah placed his other hand over the man's hand. “Be well, Hollis.”He forced himself to smile even though there was nothing about the situation worth smiling about.

“And you also, Jonah.” Their first meeting also became their last. Hollis never saw Jonah again after that night. He never learned what became of Jonah either. However, Hollis had a pretty strong idea as to what happened to him.

 

About an hour before Hollis and Jonah parted ways, another visitor arrived in Wych Elm. Addy Banks was her name. She was a budding journalist from East Bend; a small city situated ninety-five miles northeast of Wych Elm. Like Hollis, Addy came to Wych Elm to solve a murder. She was vibrant and hungry. She wanted to know who the girl in the tree was, what happened to her, and her connection to the infamous Hightower family. 

Through Hell or high water, the young journalist would shine light on Wych Elm’s darkest secret.

The Girl in the Wych Elm: Part Three

 

3. The Men in the High Tower

Alexander chuckled with amusement as he waited for Solomon and his entourage to arrive. The Mayor of Wych Elm had called a meeting with the Silver Hightowers. Alexander wondered if his ancestor, Barnabas Hightower (the first patriarch of the Crimson branch), was turning over in his grave. “I’ll probably see the old bastard in my mirror tonight.” He laughed as he played with the engraved lighter in his hand.

The twin Hightower families had always despised one another. So, it was bizarre that Alexander would invite their long-time nemeses to Old Cahawba for an in-person meeting. Many of the lower ranked Crimson Hightowers were against the decision, not that their opinions mattered to Alexander. He was their family head, their patriarch. There was no democracy under his roof.

“Mr. Hightower,” a maid poked her head through the door, “Judge Solomon Hightower and company have arrived.” Alexander motioned for the maid to let them through. “Yes sir.” The maid’s head disappeared back behind the door. Two seconds later, Alexander and his men came into view.

The two Hightower patriarchs were an interesting contrast from one another. Alexander was charismatic and had a playful demeanor. But deep down, he was a crafty bastard who treated everything like a game. Toying with people’s lives was what he enjoyed the most. Everyone, even his very own family members, was disposable to him. Alexander was also a ruthless monster who would get what he wanted by any means necessary.

Then there was Solomon, the more reserved and cold-natured of the pair. He was indifferent towards everyone and anything that didn’t concern him. Solomon was more methodical compared to Alexander. He was no nonsense either. While Alexander sowed chaos, Solomon preferred to uphold order with authority.

Despite their differences in personality, both men shared some of the same traits. They could be sadistic and cruel in their own ways. Alexander was more open and shameless about it. In regard to Solomon, it depended on the circumstance. Both Hightower patriarchs looked down on the other three High Families. They also desired unbridled power.

Alexander was not a fan of Solomon’s reserved nature. He wished the man was less rigid. On the other hand, Solomon found Alexander’s prideful ways obnoxious. If Alexander was humbler, Solomon would have taken him more seriously. 

The mischievous smile on Alexander’s face widened. “How does it feel, Solomon? To return home. The original home of the Hightowers.” Solomon gave Alexander an unrepentant glare. He knew his Crimson counterpart would provoke him the second he arrived. Finding ways to get under Solomon’s skin was Alexander’s favorite hobby when he wasn’t trying to destroy the Silver Hightower family.

Solomon kept his cool, ignoring Alexander’s insulting remark. “Why am I here, Alexander?” He asked in a restrained voice. Solomon Hightower was a busy man who had more important matters to deal with. Entertaining Alexander’s nonsense was not on his agenda for the day. “Hurry and speak your peace.”

Alexander placed his hands to his chest, feigning like he was hurt by Solomon’s harsh words. “Oh, come now, Solomon. Pull that stick from your ass and have a seat. We should take this time to catch up with one another. I mean, who knows when we’ll get together like this again.”

“Blow it out your ass, Alexander. Stop acting familiar with us. And this isn’t our home either.” The outburst came from Solomon’s boorish younger brother, Florian. No one despised the Crimson Hightowers more than he did.

Historically, the Crimson Hightowers often looked down on the Silver branch. They (the Crimsons) referred to themselves as the real Hightowers. Florian and his family were inferior to the Crimson Hightowers and always would be. That insult was unforgivable.

Florian wanted to stay home. Anytime he was in the presence of a Crimson longer than a minute, he became sick to his stomach. The hot-headed man only came in support of Solomon.

“Watch that mouth of yours, Florian.” Arthur rose from his seat. He was red with anger over the disrespect shown towards his brother. “You’re speaking to our patriarch and the Mayor of Wych Elm.”

 Arthur, or Art as he was referred to, was Alexander’s older brother; he had a younger twin brother named Theodore, often referred to as Theo for short. Alexander’s older twin brothers were fiercely loyal and protective of him as Florian was towards Solomon.

Theo remained seated but chimed in after his twin. “You’ve been warned, Florian. If you insult our brother again, you’re going to find yourself without a tongue.” He pointed

Florian snorted loudly, crossing his arms over his chest. “Your brother may be the mayor of Wych Elm, but he’s not my patriarch. I would give him the same respect I would a cockroach.”

An argument broke out between the two Hightower clans, each accusing the other of having been disrespectful first. Elias shook his head disapprovingly. The two families couldn’t even make it ten minutes without a fight. “I would have stayed in my suite had I known there was going to be arguments and shouting.” Elias belonged to the Crimson branch; he was also the first cousin to Alexander and the twins. 

“Art, Florian, and Theo should never be allowed again in the same space together.” A low-ranked Crimson commented. He was correct. The three men were too ill-tempered and quick to physical violence. Nothing would ever be accomplished with them present.

Alexander and Solomon simultaneously raised their hands. “Enough with the bickering!” They said in unison.

“Florian… Settle down and take a seat.” Solomon commanded his younger brother. “I loathe rambunctious noise and stupid arguments. You out of all people know this. We came to talk, not meet them on their level.” Florian obeyed Solomon’s order, albeit reluctantly.

 Art and Theo snickered at Florian. “Just like the obedient puppy you are.”

“We should start calling him the ‘Silver Hound of Hightower.” Theo added. Florian gripped the armrests of his chair until his knuckles turned white. He wouldn’t act on his rage, however. Florian would not embarrass Solomon anymore than he already had.

“Art, Theo, be quiet.” Alexander snapped at the duo. They stopped their insults and snickering immediately. “Florian is our guest along with Solomon, no matter how irritating he may be.” Florian rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Solomon slid into the chair beside Florian’s. With a heavy sigh, he addressed Alexander once more. “Why are we here, Alexander? Let this meeting be worth my time. You know hate interruptions and distractions.” His forehead vein bulged angrily. Solomon was in a terrible mood and been so all morning. He made sure it was clear to Alexander.

Alexander chuckled again. “Is there anything Solomon Hightower doesn’t hate?” He shook his head. “I assure you, Judge Hightower, this meeting is absolutely worth your time.” Alexander sipped at his tea. “We have a threat on the rise.” A threat that required cooperation between the two Hightower families. “I want this threat crushed before it becomes a nuisance.” 

Everyone in the room gasped and mumbled among themselves. Alexander and Solomon raised their hands a second time, silencing the room. “What is this threat?” Solomon raised his eyebrow. He looked at Alexander skeptically.

“A pair of ears told me that seven families are trying to form an alliance. They’re going to call themselves the…Grand Families.” The last two words rolled off his tongue with disgust. Alexander took another sip of his tea, trying to rid the taste from his mouth.

The seven families were: the Rosenbaums, the Belleweathers, Holloways, the Monte-Sanos, the Belnades, Sinclairs, and Jirovs. Exhausted with the High Families’ authoritarian rule of Wych Elm, the Grand Families made the decision to come together in an attempt to challenge the High Families. Their goal was to rid Wych Elm of the High Families permanently. 

The room erupted into chaos. Furious words filled the air. Solomon raised his hand a third time, demanding silence from the room again. The voices settled. “Who exactly did you hear this from, Alexander?” The Silver patriarch squinted at him. “You’ve never been one to tell the truth...ever.” Alexander was lying, for all Solomon knew.

Horatio, a distant cousin to Solomon and Florian (and the latter’s right-hand man), spoke up. “Solomon is right. There’s no lie you won’t tell to get what you want. We have eyes and ears everywhere in this town and yet, this is the first we’re hearing about the Grand Families.” Horatio was suspicious indeed.

The man’s comment garnered outcry from the Crimson Hightowers. How dare Solomon and Horatio accuse Alexander of being liar (which he was). “Alexander didn’t ask you lot to come here just for you to disrespect him at every turn.”

“This is why our family will never be cordial with you slowly Silvers.” Horatio fired back at the comments. Had Alexander not intervened, another full-blown argument would have erupted.

"Never thought I would see the day where I would be agreeing with Solomon.” Alexander had reached the end of his patience with the constant outbursts and insults. “From here on out, only Solomon and I will be doing the talking. You will speak when called upon.” He stressed.

The Crimson Hightowers behind Alexander couldn’t see his full expression, but they felt a shift in the atmosphere in the room. Though calm, their patriarch was irate. Horatio and Florian cut their eyes, chuckling amongst each other. The men straightened up when they noticed Solomon’s cold side eye on them.

Alexander reclined back in his chair. “As we were.” He crossed his right leg over his left. “Arien Morgenstern.” Solomon was on the edge of his seat. He hadn’t heard the name Morgenstern spoken in over twenty-three years. It became taboo to even mention their name after what the family almost did to them.

Depending on who one asked, the Morgenstern family either garnered veneration or condemnation. Twenty-three years prior, they were the sixth member of the High Families. Compared to the other five families, the Morgensterns were somewhat liked by the residents of Wych Elm. They weren't as terrible as the other High Families, but they weren't inherently good either.

Horatio raised his hand for permission to speak. Alexander motioned to him with a nod. “What is Arien doing back in Wych Elm? His father had him and his sister sent away from this place.” That was right before the High Families massacred their entire family. Aside from Arrien and his sister, the Morgenstern family, at least within Wych Elm, no longer existed.

In truth, Arrien had been living in Wych Elm for the last seven years. Alexander kept his return a secret.

Elias raised his hand next and was permitted to speak. “Not to question your decisions, patriarch, but are you sure it’s wise to be working with that brat?” He suspected Arrien had returned to Wych Elm in pursuit of revenge. Elias couldn't think of any other reason why Arrien would be in partnership with Alexander.

Solomon seconded Elias’ statement. “The Morgensterns turned against the High Families. They betrayed us and nearly succeeded.” In turn, their entire family was destroyed. “There’s an end game for Arrien in this somewhere.” Solomon was without a doubt certain. “Why would you put your trust in someone with a motive for revenge?” The Silver patriarch thought the sloppy decision was unlike Alexander. His counterpart was smarter than that, so he thought.

Alexander smiled proudly. He shifted to one side of his chair. “I’m quite offended by your response, Judge Hightower.” Alexander chastised Solomon for thinking so poorly of him. “I’m many things but I’m no one’s fool. You should know that very well.” The Mayor of Wych Elm proclaimed that Arrien was nothing more than a pawn on his chessboard.

Arrien returned to Wych Elm not for revenge, but to reclaim his family's position among the High Families. Mumbles filled the room from all around. The revelation made Art and Theo snicker. Horatio and Florian looked at one another then over at Solomon. The judge's expression was unreadable. 

“He’s desperate.” Alexander continued. “And I can’t blame him in the slightest. Arrien grew up in an esteemed and affluent family, born with a golden spoon in his mouth. I’m sure his years away from Wych Elm were quite dismal.” Alexander commented that desperate individuals were the ones always willing to get their hands dirty for others. “What he’s trying to achieve is nothing more than a Fool’s Errand, but an entertaining one regardless.”

Solomon slid back in his chair. He mimicked Alexander from earlier, crossing one leg over the other. He propped his elbow on the armrest and rested his cheek in his hand. “And when he’s done all that you’ve asked of him, then what?” That was the most important question in the moment. Would Arrien actually be rewarded for his hard work?

Alexander propped his elbows on the table and leaned forward. The amusement in his eyes vanished. He was serious. “The Morgenstern Family will never return to the High Families.” The sins of Arrien’s father fell on him. “Besides…the less members we have among us, the more power and wealth we can possess.” Solomon raised an amused eyebrow. He had nothing else to say. Alexander left him speechless, something that seldom happened.

Horatio whistled loudly. “That’s cold-hearted, Alexander.” Not that the man was all that concerned for Arien. He agreed with Alexander's statement. Less was more. Since the Morgenstern family’s massacre, the High Families had been doing quite well without an extra family.

“So, is Arrien like your new Red Hound?” Florian asked, picking at his fingers. “Your lap dog Ishmael won’t like his master having another pet around. It might cause some serious problems.” Alexander chucked lightheartedly. Florian’s remark amused him even though it was an insult directed at him.

To Alexander, Arrien was a means to an end. “Once Arrien has outlived his usefulness to me, I’ll have him put down like I would a sick animal.” A chill ran up Florian's spine. Alexander was truly the monster he presented himself as.

“While we’re on the subject of Ishmael. Why was he nor the other heads invited to this gathering?” Solomon thought it was strange. The potential threat from the Grand Families affected everyone, not just the Hightowers. "Have they been looped in yet? Are we going to loop them in?" Solomon was indifferent towards the other three High Families. He just wanted to see what Alexander's response was.

The question earned a sour response from Alexander. He called the other three High Families incompetent. “Those dimwits wouldn’t know their heads from their asses if I drew them a map.” All the Hightowers in attendance nodded in agreement. The Mayor of Wych Elm had grown weary and agitated with Lucia, Mikhail, and even Ishmael, his loyal right hand. They were disorganized and had become too distracted over the last decade.

The Crimson and Silver Hightowers might have had their own share of issues internally and with one another, but they were still grounded compared to the other three families. “The Da Silva family is in turmoil. The Ellingtons are too emotionally unstable, all of them! And the Lightwoods…” Alexander groaned. He rubbed his temples. “Historically, they’ve never really been all that useful.” Alexander said aloud what Solomon had been thinking for a long time. The three other High Families no longer served a purpose to the Hightowers. Alexander wanted them gone.

There would be no more High Families. Only the Hightowers.

Solomon gripped his chin. “Hmm…” Though he welcomed the idea of only the Hightowers in power over Wych Elm, it would never happen. Two Hightower families could not coexist. When faced against a common threat, the two men could unite and cooperate. Once the outside threat was dealt with, there was still the threat of one another. “So, how are we going to deal with the Grand Families?” Solomon knew Alexander already had some nefarious plan cooked up. His devious smile only confirmed Solomon's statement.

“The boys are digging up blackmail as we speak." He threw up his hands. 

Solomon had a better idea; Alexander was all ears. “Hear me out before you respond.” He cautioned with his hand. Judge Hightower suggested they offer one of the seven Grand Family members the seat that belonged to the Morgenstern family. “The Grand Families say they want to overthrow us, but I don’t entirely believe that claim.” Whispers from both sides filled the room. “Some of them may want that, but not all of them.” Alexander was intrigued; the grin on his face stretched further. “The Grand Families want the power, wealth, and influence we have.” They wanted to be equal to the High Families, Solomon stated. 

Art was insulted by the idea. "That will never happen." He snorted arrogantly. No one would ever be equal to the High Families, especially the Hightowers.

“And it won’t.” Solomon replied sharply to the man, which made him grimace.

Solomon never wanted his hands dirty or got them dirty. Like Alexander, he used others. That was his intention with the place. The alliance would destroy itself if he and Alexander waved the offer of the Morgensterns’ seat in their faces.

Alexander liked Solomon's plan more. He thought it was brilliant. It was not because the plan was craftier, however. The mayor was excited over the chaos that would ensue. Watching seven families tear themselves apart and betray one another over a seat they would never get, made for excellent entertainment. Solomon saw the arousal from senseless bloodshed in Alexander's eyes.

“We’ve come to terms then, yes?” Alexander stood up and offered his hand to Solomon who refused to shake it.

Solomon slid away from the table. “Let me make this clear, Alexander Hightower. I don’t trust you.” And he never would. Solomon only agreed to cooperate in order to eliminate the threat of the Grand Families. “I’m neither an ally nor a friend.” He cautioned Alexander not to get too comfortable. They were still enemies.

Alexander placed his hands in the pockets of his blazer. “You couldn’t have made yourself any clearer.” He smiled cheekily at his counterpart; Solomon scowled in return.

“If that’s all there is to discuss today, we’ll be leaving.” The Silver patriarch made a circular motion with his pointer finger. Florian, Horatio, and the rest of their party rose to their feet. Before Solomon headed out the door, he asked Alexander about one more topic. “That body that was found in the tree on this property last week-”

 “-is nothing you need to concern yourself with.” Alexander rudely interjected. He told Solomon the incident was under control and that it wasn’t important. Solomon wasn't pleased with Alexander's response. The scowl on his face deepened. Was Alexander hiding information from him or lying?

The judge pushed the matter further. “Did you kill her? Or have Ishmael do it? Who was she? Who was she to you?” Alexander was bombarded with question after question. Solomon had to know why the mayor was avoiding the topic.

“It wasn’t me.” Alexander replied, nonchalantly picking at his nails. “I have no idea who she is or could have been.” As for who killed the girl and stuffed her body inside that tree. “There’s no telling.” The man shrugged indifferently. He asked why Solomon was so eager to know. "Maybe I should be asking the questions here?" He mouth widened into an unsettling grin. 

Irritated with Alexander's run around, Solomon knocked over the chair he sat in. The mayor nearly squealed with excitement. Solomon was about to lose it. That aroused him too. He loved pushing an usually reserved Solomon to his breaking point.

Florian grabbed Solomon's shoulder. “We should go-” His touch was swatted away by his brother. Florian became upset over the action. He loathed when Solomon lashed out at him. Nothing destroyed or hurt Florian more than that. Solomon was everything to him; he valued his brother more than his own existence. 

To Alexander's dismay, Solomon regained his composure after several deep breaths. “People around Wych Elm have been talking about it.” Solomon replied in a calm tone. The other patriarch frowned.

Alexander came around the table, perched on the table before Solomon, and leaned into the man's space. Horatio moved between the men. He was subsequently asked to stand down. "Solo-" The Silver Patriarch raised his hand. Horatio moved back, but stayed close to Solomon's side.

“When aren’t those miserable rats talking or stirring up rumors in the streets?” Alexander was neither concerned nor cared about the gossip and whispers. "Their lives mean nothing to me anyways. Let them talk as much as they want." He commented that there were a lot of bodies littered around Wych Elm. One dead girl in a tree was just another body. “She’s of no more importance than the other ones.” No matter how much scrutiny Alexander received from the town over the body, he still had the sheriff in his pocket.

 

Soon as their car rolled off the Old Cahawba estate, Florian and Horatio spoke freely. “Why are we even getting in bed with a sneaky bastard like Alexander?” Florian didn’t understand his brother’s decision at all. He felt terrible over questioning the patriarch but was adamant to know Solomon’s reasoning. 

Horatio backed Florian. “I think we’re more than capable of dealing with the Grand Families without their involvement.” His loyalty to Solomon was unwavering. That would never change, even when he questioned Solomon’s choices.

Solomon’s gaze was fixed to the window. “I’m aware that Alexander can’t be trusted.” Florian and Horatio looked at each other with the same puzzled expression. “He’s plotting something.” Alexander didn’t need Solomon when he already had the Da Silva family at his disposal. It was all a sham. Solomon merely played ignorant.

Alexander had his schemes, but so did Solomon.

 

 

The Girl in the Wych Elm: Part Two

 

2. Two Ghosts, A Disgraced Detective, & a Woman Named Wysteria

Not even mid-morning yet and Hollis was already on his fourth glass of bourbon. Ironically, Hollis had never been much of a drinker. The taste of alcohol always made him sick to his stomach. Eventually, that very substance became his comfort. Drinking was the only way he could tolerate the ghosts that plagued him night and day. Their hollow stares had driven him to the brink of insanity. Only alcohol dulled his mental anguish. It was also slowly killing him too.

Hollis pleaded with the ghosts to leave. No matter how many times he apologized for failing them, the ghosts wouldn’t leave. They followed Hollis everywhere he went. He even felt their hollow stares in his sleep (not that he slept much those days). There was nowhere Hollis could go where the ghosts wouldn’t find him.

“You know, Nicolai, I often wonder what that bastard James is up to these days? You remember him, right?” Hollis expelled a hoarse laugh. He realized he had finally lost his mind. There was nothing crazier (or absurd) than holding a conversation with a ghost. “We couldn’t stand his ass or that idiot partner of his. We were always beefing with them. What was that idiot partner’s name again?” Hollis tapped the rim of his glass with a finger. “Argh! I can’t remember his name, but I do remember he was a smart-mouthed, hot-headed, pain in the ass.” Hollis drank the last swig of his drink and pushed the glass off to the side. He was done drinking, at least for the moment.

Hollis closed his eyes, and his mind began to drift to a darker place. He tried to reel his mind back from that place. The memories were too painful and traumatizing. He regretted drinking that last glass of bourbon. The large quantity of alcohol had crippled him emotionally and mentally. Hollis was forced to relive those haunting memories.

Fifteen years ago, Hollis Alexander was once a detective. His partner was Nicolai Aardsma, one of the ghosts that haunted him. Due to an incompetent and last-minute decision made on Hollis’ part, Nicolai was killed. Not only was Hollis responsible for his partner’s death, but he was also responsible for another. Sadie Penn. She was the other ghost that haunted him.

Sadie had been the unfortunate victim of a kidnapping that ended terribly. The poor child was only nine when she died. Hollis was pressured to resign from his position, which he did so out of guilt.

Since his resignation, Hollis made a living doing freelance work. They were always simple tasks like collecting owed debts or searching for lost pets. The work was meaningless, but it kept him afloat for the time being.

“Oh my! How much longer do you intend to view the world through the bottom of that glass?” Hollis opened his eyes. He was shocked to see the unfamiliar woman leaning against his kitchen counter.

The trespasser was in her later teens, possibly early twenties. Her black and kinky hair fell to her shoulders. Underneath her left eye was a beauty mark. The young woman’s unnaturally black eyes reminded Hollis of dark chasms. Though beautiful the woman had a somber aura about her.

Hollis was baffled by her silent entry into his home. “How-how…? How did you get in here?” The ghosts of Sadie and Nicolai turned their hollow stares on the woman. Hollis felt like a two-ton weight had been removed from his shoulders and back.

The uninvited guest chuckled at the question. “Sneaking into a run-down shack of a house isn’t as hard as you think it should be.” The young woman pulled up a chair and made herself comfortable at the table. “My name is Wysteria Graves.” She said with an eerie smile.

 “I didn’t ask your name. I asked how you got in here.” He told her in an agitated tone of voice. “What do you want from me?” Wysteria looked around at the poor excuse of a shelter Hollis called home.

“Nothing in here, that much I can tell you.” Hollis slammed his fist down on the table, but Wysteria was not startled in the least.

“Just answer my damn question!”

 Wysteria nodded. “I’m here because I need your services, Det. Hollis Alexander.” The drunk man chuckled bitterly. His days as a detective we long gone. He was just Hollis Alexander.

 “Just call me Hollis. I’m not a detective…not anymore.”

“I see. Whether you’re Det. Alexander or not isn’t important. As long as you get the job done, I’ll be satisfied.”

Hollis told the woman to back up. He hadn’t agreed to anything. In fact, Hollis had no intention of helping Wysteria given that she trespassed into his home. It wasn’t happening. “You can leave now Ms. Graves. I’m not interested in hearing you out and I’m not interested in helping.” Hollis didn’t need Wysteria’s money, not at that time at least. He would be fine until next month. “I would show you the door, but you already know where it is.”

Hollis reached for his glass, thirsting for another drink. Wysteria slapped her hand over the cup. She stared Hollis straight into his eyes. The woman had an unnerving presence about her. There was something unusual about Wysteria to Hollis, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He wanted that strange woman out of his house, immediately.

“Hollis Alexander,” Wysteria addressed him formally, “if you agree to help me, I’ll evict your ghostly roommates over there for you.” Hollis straightened at the mention of the ghosts of Nicolai and Sadie. He never thought the ghosts were actually real, only manifestations of his guilty conscience.  

“You said-?”

“-You heard me clear as day.” Wysteria interrupted. Her black eyes continued to gaze into Hollis’ bloodshot ones. “Their presence in your life is the reason why you began drinking, no?” She stated matter-of-factly. Hollis moved away from the table slowly. Wysteria was freaking him out to the point where he started to sober up a little.

How does she even know that? Who is this woman? Hollis told Wysteria it was time for her to leave.

The woman, however, reiterated her statement. That time with more authority. “Complete this task, and I’ll get rid of your ghosts.”

Hollis thought to threaten the woman with harm if she didn’t leave his home. Somehow, Hollis knew not even violence would run her off. He decided to accept Wysteria’s task, hoping it was something simple and quick. “Fine… What do you need me to do?”

Wysteria needed Hollis to solve a murder.