The First Church by Ron Ripley

straightened up.  “Charles, thanks so much for getting back to me.”
    “No worries,” Charles said.  “ Sorry, it took me so long to call you.  Ellen and I were out in Pennsylvania the past couple of days.  Native American war club.”
    “Damn,” Brian said, impressed.  “Difficult?”
    “Extremely,” Charles said, chuckling.  “Had a hard time finding someone we could bribe to get into the museum where it was being kept.  Anyway, what’s going on?”
    “I’m working a job up in Rye,” Brian said.  “I’ve got a headless ghost.  Japanese soldier.  I was wondering if you or Ellen spoke Japanese.”
    Charles laughed.  “No, Brian, I’m sorry.”
    Brian groaned.  “Damn.  I don’t want to bring anyone outside of the ghost hunting community in on this.”
    “Understood,” Charles said.  There was a slight pause and then he said, “I may know someone.  He’s got a knack for languages.”
    “Is he okay with the dead?” Brian asked seriously.
    “Yes,” Charles answered.  “More than okay.  If you like, I can pass on your info to him.  Let him decide if he’s interested.  He’s a private guy.”
    “Fine with me, Charles,” Brian said.  “I can pay him if he needs it.”
    “I’ll let him know.  I’ll give him your phone and email address,” Charles said.
    “Great,” Brian said, sighing with relief.  “Can you ask him to call, rather than email ?  I think this case is going to be a tough one, and I may be a little too distracted to check my account.”
    “Got it.  Say hi to Jenny for us,” Charles said.
    “And to Ellen for us, Charles.  Talk to you soon.”
    Brian ended the call and returned the phone to the table.  With a grunt , he stood up, his knees popped, and his back ached.  He splashed a little whiskey into the tumbler, knocked it back and then made his way to the bathroom.
    He needed some comfortable sleep.
    Tomorrow, he would have to speak with the dead.
     
     

Chapter 19: Officer Raelynn French Investigates
     
    Raelynn had gotten a call from Dan the day before, and she hadn’t believed it.
    The two blind teenagers had told him it was a ghost who had hurt them.
    A ghost , she thought, disgusted.
    She parked her cruiser on the street in front of the First Congregationalist Church.
    It was seven in the morning.
    She called in her position and turned the engine off.  After she got out, she adjusted her vest and made her way towards the back of the building.  Dan had told her both the boys recorded the incident.  The problem she and Dan had, however, was the presence of only one phone.
    One wiped phone because an overeager tech had accidentally triggered a safety feature.
    More than likely both boys had been recording.  Which meant there should have been two phones , but one was missing . 
    Logic, therefore, dictated the other was somewhere in the office.
    Rever end Joseph Malleus was a man who got to work early.  Or at least, people had said he did.
    His car wasn’t there, however.
    Raelynn continued around the back and stopped sharply.
    The back door was open, and the window to the right of it was shattered, broken inwards.
    She reached up to her shoulder and keyed the mic which hung from her epaulet.
    “Base, this is Three-Three,” Raelynn said.  “I have a possible break-in at the First Church.”
    The sound of breaking dishes cut her off.
    “Three-Three going in!” s he said, dropping her hand from her shoulder to her sidearm.  With an easy, long practiced motion she drew the semi-automatic and hurried up the steps.
    “Rye Police!” she yelled, and entered the building.
    The door from the office to the rest of the Church was open, and Raelynn stepped up to it.  She paused, looked quickly out into the hall and saw nothing.  She waited and was rewarded with the sound of something being smashed a few doors up to the right.
    With her weapon ready, Raelynn moved forward.  Another crash sounded, and she saw that the third door was