The Laurel Township Triangle Part 1- The Mercy Seat

[00:00:00] Lovers of horror, fans of mystery, welcome to JB's radio show, the one and only place for original fiction written and narrated by JB Cross and guest authors. For the amusement of all you creepy crawlies out there, we've got one hell of a tale to start off our special event. But first, a word from our sponsor. [00:00:22] Are you struggling to hide when the lights go on? Does your skin keep that sickly old pale color that is so 1930s scary? Well, fret no more friends, because Translucent Skin is here for you. It's the only Cabal approved skin treatment that will make you invisible to the naked eye, leaving only the faintest outline of your presence in front of your victim. Developed and patented by the leading undead dermatologists, Translucent combines time tested ingredients like the color from space and a dash of New Age proprietary compounds derived directly from the underworld fissure. So you know you can trust it. Pick up your canister today and put the fright back in your night. Translucent Skin is patented by the Denver Undead Dermatology Clinic. See your exorcist if you experience severe side effects such as uncontrolled wailing, bleeding pictures, or burning in the teeth or nails. [00:01:17] And now, our feature presentation the Laurel Township Triangle, Part 1 the Mercy Seat out along the edges of the Arizona badlands, where the Riprarian Gallery forests give way to the rocky low desert, there is a place called Laurel Township. It's an old place and a city of ill repute, abandoned by most civilization and long forgotten by the gods of its original denizens. The township stands at the center of the geographical triangle formed by the Snake Tongue mountain range to the east, the massive Lake Epono to the west, and the edge of the high desert plateau to the south. [00:02:11] Any local will tell you you don't wander into the Laurel Triangle. It's here in a cabin down the road from the old abandoned textile factory outside the expanse of what used to be that small city that our story begins. Four of our heroes have already arrived and they pass the time waiting for their companions to join them. [00:02:32] Illuminated only by a crackling fire in the hearth, they are playing poker and sipping lukewarm beverages around a rickety old table. [00:02:40] At every sound or moving shadow, they cast furtive glances at the door and darkened windows. And oh, how frequently do the shadows move in Laurel Township? [00:02:53] Your hand, Billy, jared said, dropping his cards into the pile and pushing them toward his old partner. [00:02:59] Bill rolled his stogie in his teeth as he gathered the cards into a neat stack and shuffled, then dealt them back out. He met each of their eyes as they picked up their hands. Trixie was impossible to read as she smirked back at him, one manicured eyebrow raised as she gazed over the lip of her cards. Jared refused to meet Bill's eyes, but a slight twinge in his lip betrayed his otherwise stony expression. Then there was Frank. The man practically jittered right out of his seat, and his excited eyes jumped between each of them with lightning speed. Bill glanced at the pot of money in the center of the table. [00:03:35] The stakes were high and getting higher. [00:03:39] Handy up, ladies, bill said. He leaned back and munched on his unlit cigar. I didn't come here to take your pocket change. [00:03:47] Trixie's ruby lips turned up in a sly smile. You boys wish you were ladies. [00:03:53] Frank looked back to his cards, his knees still bouncing 300 beats per minute. He sipped his beer and tossed his cards down. Nah, not this one. [00:04:03] Jared held his stony expression for a moment, then laid his own cards face down. I'll leave it to you two. [00:04:10] Bill snorted at his partner, then turned a glare on Trixie, dropping a stack of quarters into the pot one by one. [00:04:18] She pushed her own change in before she leaned toward him. Show me yours, I'll show you mine. [00:04:23] Bill smirked and showed his cards. Full house. [00:04:27] Trixie made a pouty face, then slowly laid down her own hand. [00:04:33] Ace, jared quietly announced. [00:04:36] Deuce, deuce, deuce. He pumped his fist in the air as he spoke the last deuce and Trisha Trixie Williams puts Billy Tullyer, the oldest detective to ever work the cops, to pasture. [00:04:49] Frank and Trixie laughed. Bill scoffed, but then smiled. [00:04:54] The night's still young, kids, and this old screw ain't to pasture yet, bill said. I thought you were tired after. Frank trailed off as he looked between the others. Bill just stared back at him without talking. [00:05:07] It was Trixie who finally broke the tense silence. Can't wait till I'm decrepit enough to sit on the couch all day. [00:05:13] Bill snorted. You wish you could be this good? [00:05:16] She clicked her tongue, maintaining her playful tone. Please. I'm on a job across the whole county. I'm not just good, I'm the best. [00:05:24] Yeah, you young deputies think you got all they all fell into a tense quiet at the sound of shuffling outside. [00:05:31] The silence lingered as the shuffling subsided. [00:05:37] Trixie swallowed and forcibly pulled her eyes away from the door. Her voice was more shaky than playful now. It's not just awful out in the country. It's terrifying. [00:05:47] It's that way everywhere in no triangle nowadays, jared said. [00:05:52] Frank shook his head slowly. I know you guys had your share of scuffles, but it's worse out in the country. Much worse. [00:06:01] You want to hear worse? Bill's expression darkened a little as he looked over to the fire. He pushed the cards to his old partner. Shuffle and deal, Jared, while I tell them about worse. [00:06:13] Trixie and Frank glanced at each other, then Jared, who occupied himself with the cards, though his face was stark white. [00:06:19] Then they looked back at Bill. [00:06:23] Bill rubbed his face and sat back, letting the shadows play over him as he spoke. [00:06:28] It was my sixth year as a training sergeant. I was on the mid shift with Curt Hillman. Trixie's eyes widened. Curt Hillman? As in. Yep, that one. But you want to hear the whole story first? I think it was around 2100 we got the call. [00:06:47] Unit 77. Unit 77, this is dispatch. The radio blared, jerking me from a near doze. I scooped up the mic and heaved out a tired sigh. Dispatch, go for 7777. We've got a 1014 at 1843 Poe Drive. Of course we do. [00:07:05] If I was at a near doze he was looking at passed out in the rearview mirror before the call. I rolled my eyes and keyed the mic. 10 4, dispatch. 77 is 1076 depot. [00:07:17] I kicked our rust bucket cruiser, Old Abigail, into drive. Curt talked with Dispatch and marked down the finer details. Shouting and crashing were called in anonymously. Probably an angry neighborhood. It was Friday night and all par for the course. [00:07:33] Why does this always happen at the end of our watch? Curt muttered as he put the mic back down in its cradle. Relax, Ruck, I replied. It's just a 1014. [00:07:44] Last week we spent four hours on a domestic disturbance. Bill, curt reminded me that was in a Merrimack Jack trailer park where all the wife beaters live. Po Drive is the north side, I said. Lowell, rich folks squabble over who gets the goods when Daddy dies. They don't beat on each other. [00:08:03] He gave me a look that said he didn't believe me. [00:08:06] This is the job, Kurt, I said, trying to break his funk. If you don't like it, now's the time to punch out before you've got too much invested. [00:08:15] Curt sighed and shook his head. No, I'm sorry, Billy. It's just Janice was coming over tonight. She gets off at ten. [00:08:23] I bet we'll be back at the station by ten thirty. I I guessed. Surely she can wait thirty minutes. Cart nodded and lapsed into silence, staring out the window. Mind you, everything was normal at that point. I had no reason to suspect what we were getting into 1014s on the north side really aren't normally more than just a shouting match between spoiled siblings. It didn't start getting weird until we pulled onto Poe Drive. [00:08:50] Remember in those old Westerns where the hero steps out into the dusty street and only the one bad guy and the tumbleweeds are there to greet him? Po Drive felt like that, lonely and abandoned but somehow hostile. Of course, it wasn't high noon, and there aren't any streetlights out there, so every house was dark save for the one at the far end. So maybe it was more like pulling into a tunnel with a big train coming on. This neighborhood on the downslope. Curt asked, where's Everybody at? It's 9:30 and they're old, I replied. They all just went to bed. [00:09:25] Then who called it in? I don't like the feel of this, Billy. Rookies like Kurt are all nerves, but I was used to dealing with it. Relax, Kurt. They just turned on the lights so it'd draw us in. [00:09:38] Kurt just sort of stared at me for a minute, then turned back forward, his hand resting on the shotgun in his cradle. [00:09:45] By the time Abigail carried us down that godforsaken street, a silhouette appeared in the downstairs window of the house. It was tall and slim, and the bright interior lights distorted the head into a sliver and the arms into elongated abominations. [00:10:01] I thought of that Slender man character my son reads about the crazy shit kids find on the Internet. [00:10:07] After a minute or two of convincing Curt to leave the damn shotgun with Abigail, we stepped up to the door and I reached out to knock. It opened before my hand met the ornate oak. [00:10:19] The man standing inside looked like he was barely holding on to the last inch of rope God gave him. He looked haggard, all baggy, crazy eyes and ratty brown hair. [00:10:30] Are you Harold Friedman? Curt asked. His voice was clear and authoritative, just like I taught him. Say what you will about Curt Hillman, but he could rally when it came to it. [00:10:42] The man nodded, and his crazy mop of hair bounced with the movement. He flashed a smile as wild as the rest of them, and I got a glimpse at his teeth. [00:10:52] I don't know why I remember them so vividly, but those teeth were perfect. I guess they stick out because Harold's face was dirty. His clothes were threadbare and all around. He looked like an absolute nutcase, but he had the most perfect teeth I've ever seen. Fresh aftermarket dental work, he said to his officers. Thank you for coming. [00:11:14] Did you make the call, Mr. Friedman? I asked mostly out of curiosity. [00:11:19] He looked at me like I was the crazy one, then nodded. Yes, yes, please come in. [00:11:25] He waved us into the house and I could practically smell the sweat pouring out of Curt, but we stepped in anyway. [00:11:32] Now all of the north side is rich, but this house was just ridiculous. First off, it was enormous, 5,500 square feet if it was one. Second, this place had the works. The floors were all polished hardwood, the central staircase had red carpet running down the center, and the chandelier looked like real crystal. This place wasn't just money, it was old money, generational cash handed down and managed professionally. Harold ushered us into the sitting room where there was a huge television hung on the wall and a few chairs arranged about a coffee table. Then he says, please sit anywhere you like. Except the pink one. Not the pink one. Never the pink one. It's a precious family heirloom. [00:12:15] I took a seat, glancing at the pink one as Harold rambled on and saw nothing special. [00:12:22] Harold looked almost proud when he spoke of it, so it must have been something sentimental to him. Curt stood off to the side with his hands free, a good security dominant position, just like I taught him. I'm telling you, the man was a natural. I didn't notice at first that his eyes were fixed on that ugly pink chair. If I had, maybe I could have snapped him out of it. I normally have a nose for when a rookie is about to freeze up, but it was near the end of the shift and no tired is no excuse, not with what happened. [00:12:55] Can I offer you refreshments, gentlemen? Harold asked. His eyes were like ping pong balls bouncing between us. The pink chair, the dusty pictures on the wall, and then back to us. It was nauseating to watch. [00:13:07] No, why don't you tell us why you called, Mr. Friedman? I replied. Harold frowned at me like I had a wonder weasel growing out of my forehead and then fell onto the couch next to me, he said. I thought it would be obvious. [00:13:21] I glanced around the room. It was drab and had an uncomfortable feel, but nothing seemed out of place. Harold scoffed, she's been screaming these accusations for hours. I can't get her to stop. [00:13:34] I looked at Curt, but he was still staring at the ugly pink chair. I have no clue what you're talking about, Mr. Freeman. I hear nothing. [00:13:43] Harold frowned deeper and he looked to the pink thing, then back at me. Why? I had no part in it, I could tell you that. Pardon? What, Mr. Friedman? I asked. By this point I'm beginning to think old Harold had a mental break or took a little too much of something switching her pills. Harold cried. She was sick. She just got confused. That's how it happened. I had nothing to do with it. [00:14:06] I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Friedman, I said. Let's try to keep calm here. Why don't you start from the beginning? [00:14:14] Harold let out an exasperated moan. Mercy Friedman, my wife. The woman whose family owns this house and half the damn town. Does that ring a bell? I held out a hand to calm him, but I was near the end of my row. I may have heard the name before Harold glanced around and waved his hands in exasperation. When he looked back at me, he settled a little. Well, I didn't have any hand in her pill mix up. I've never seen her pills. Did Mercy take the wrong pills? Is that what you're trying to tell me? He snapped his fingers and pointed at me. Yes, that's exactly right. Mercy took the pills. I had nothing to do with it. Okay, I said. Where is Mercy now? Harold shot to his feet and paced back and forth. Oh no. Oh no, no, no. You can't ask me that. I know my rights, sir. I don't have to answer questions. [00:15:04] I rose to my feet, hand on my taser. Mr. Friedman, I'm just trying to help. You called us here, remember? Harold continued to pace. I know what you're trying to do. Oh yes, I'm well aware. I called you here to stop her yammering, but you arrived looking for a patsy. He whipped an accusing finger at me. I don't care what she says. I had no hand in it. I used a divider to be sure each day is the right amount. [00:15:28] I didn't catch his slip up until later because Harold was getting more animated. I was as confused as I've ever felt, and Curt was no help at all. I put a hand to Harold's chest. You need to calm down, sir. Stop. Harold stopped, but he was still wound tighter than Dick's hatband. Now calmly tell me where we can find mercy, Mr. Freeman. [00:15:50] Curt muttered something that sounded like never hear. Harold's eyes bounced from my face, to Curt and to the pink chair behind me, but he said nothing. With a jerk, Curt snapped out of whatever daydream he had fallen into. With my focus on Harold, he stepped over and plopped into the ugly pink chair before I could stop him. No, don't you. Harold's crazy eyes went even wider and I mean quarter to dinner plate size. I thought they might pop right out of his head. He tried to push past me to go at Curt, but I shoved him back. Then, I guess because the room wasn't loud and chaotic enough. Curt started shouting in a screeching voice. You know what you did, boy. Ungrateful boy with your drug rotted teeth and your nightly collars. The mercy seat's a calling for you, boy. It's a calling for you. [00:16:37] Fine, fine. Take her word. Then Harold screamed back at him, his pale face flushed to a bloody crimson. I drew my taser. Now, Mr. Freedman, calm down. I'm not going to tell you again. [00:16:50] Harold spun and bolted out of the room. I shot my Taser, but he was too quick. I only managed to shock the drywall a little bit. [00:16:57] Cover me, rook, I called over my shoulder. Hoping Curt had at least some of his wits. I ran after Harold. The next room was a huge kitchen that could have made that Gordon Ramsay fellow wet himself, and I barely caught a glimpse of Harold as he passed through another doorway on the far side. When I made it there, I found stairs descending into a musty smelling blackness. Shit, I muttered, looking back toward the living room ruck. There came no reply. Cart, get your ass in here now. I yelled, mustering all my years as sergeant into my voice. [00:17:31] He appeared in the doorway, swaying on his feet, staring at me with eyes far too similar to Harold's. Cover this door, I said, in case he tries to get around me. Curt raised one hand in reply and smiled, but that smile didn't look genuine. It was too much like a pained grimace, or like he had smelled something foul and it dripped condescension, as if I was stupid for telling him the obvious. [00:17:56] I drew my Glock and went down the stairs. Going through that door felt like walking into some monster's gullet, and the dark I found down there was like murky water. Even my flashlight's beam didn't seem to get very far. Mr. Freedman, you come out now so we can talk, I called into the blackness. Whatever happened, I'm sure. A dim light flicked on across the damp cellar, exposing a bare stone floor and cinder block walls. Harold stood there, crazy face smiling like Romero's joker, sledgehammer propped on his shoulder. I fixed him in my gun sights. Mr. Freedman, now you just put that hammer down. There's no need toyou played me well with your police inquiries and your feigned ignorance. But I see through your deceptions, Officer, harold said. Oh yes, I see now, Mr. Friedman. He swung the hammer into the wall. My finger tightened on the trigger but stopped just before it crossed the line. Here's mercy. Harold screamed. He swung the sledge again. [00:18:58] When the forensics looked at the wall later, they reported it had been poorly patched only a week or so before. I guess that's why it only took two swings to make the big hole when the patch fell in. Harold stood there with the hammer propped on his shoulder again, cackling as that thick dust hung in the air around him. I stepped closer. Alright, you drop that hammer before I drop you. Go on now. Harold let the hammer slip to the floor. [00:19:24] I stepped up next to the man, the thick concrete dust obscuring the wall's gaping maw as I took him by the arm and turned him toward the door. He flailed and jerked, pointing at the hole. There's the bitch poisoned by her drugs. I saw her condescending smiles. I saw the deal they made for their fortune. I saw I clobbered him in a temple, a clean shot with the butt of my pistol. Harold sank to the dusty floor, blessedly silent. I shook my head and glanced at the hole. A half decomposed corpse grinned back at me. I stumbled back, pulling Harold along with me. The eyes of that thing were gone, but she was still staring at me. The desiccated lips were pulled back to show half rotted teeth. And like I told my ex wife Hilary afterward, I believe there was a note of condescension in that corpse smile made me think of Kurt smiling at me upstairs. [00:20:17] I had to. I had to, harold muttered. He turned. He started to sob. [00:20:23] Her and that cursed throne. Burn it, burn it. I should have burned it, but it called to me. Oh God, forgive me. [00:20:30] I forced myself to look away and put Harold face down on the floor with my knee in his back. I managed to cuff him, though my hands were shaking. Hell, my whole body was trembling. I heaved Harold up and hustled him to the front door as quick as I could. Kirk was waiting near the front door beside a puddle of sick. His face was milk pale, and he rocked from foot to foot. Whatever had come over him had come back out in that foul mess at his feet. Or so I thought. [00:20:57] Call it in, Rook, I told him as I marched Harold past. We got a body downstairs. I had Harold by the nape of his neck pushing him out the door, and I glanced back as Kurt was keying his radio. [00:21:10] I don't know why I looked, and I wish now that I hadn't. [00:21:14] I swear I'm not making this up, and I don't believe it's just because it was late and the end of a long shift. It happened. Take it or leave it. That chair, the ugly pink thing. It was rocking back and forth on its own. There was a deep impression in the cushion, like somebody was sitting there, and a hoarse, cackling laugh followed me all the way out to the street. But not one of us was smiling. [00:21:40] I've never been so happy to be inside a woman as I was sitting in Abigail when we finally put that house in the rearview mirror. [00:21:49] Damn, Billy, trixie whispered. Bill shrugged. It wasn't until later, back at the station, that we found out Harold wasn't even married to a Mercy Freedman. He was married to Wilma Fulton, who had kept her maiden name as the rich and famous sometimes do. [00:22:06] She had been missing for a week, and her doctor said she didn't have any prescriptions that he knew of. The only Mercy Fulton we could find died 80 years ago of unknown causes, leaving her fortune to her only son. Harold never answered any questions about that. He hung himself in his cell before he made it to the interrogation room. [00:22:27] Is that what drove Curt mad? Something in that house, you think? Trixie asked. He went mad? Frank asked. [00:22:35] Bill nodded. [00:22:37] All that stuff with Kurt went down two weeks later. Janice died of an Ambien overdose, but she didn't have an Ambien prescription. Kurt did. Of course, Kurt took the shortcut to Jesus, just like Harold before the trial. So we'll never have the truth. We'll never know for sure why he went back to burn the Fulton house and half the north side with it, either. But I've got an idea. [00:23:00] I'll tell you a secret you didn't hear on the news. The suicide note Curt left read. I didn't switch them. She just got confused. The room fell silent as Bill ended his story. [00:23:11] They had all previously only had bits and pieces to that story, but now they knew the whole truth. [00:23:19] There was something strange and sinister at work in the Fulton house. Something strange and sinister was a mantra they'd all come to be familiar with over the last few years. [00:23:29] Frank swallowed and his dry throat clicked. He sipped his lukewarm beer, then finally broke the silence. [00:23:36] Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room? [00:23:39] Jared cleared his throat. [00:23:42] Soon as they all get here. Who? Trixie asked. She looked to Jared's partner. Why'd you bring us all out here, Billy? Just to play poker and tell stories in the spooky old cabin? [00:23:54] Bill swallowed and glanced over at Jared before he answered. We're here to fix the township. There's a chance we can break the triangle. How? Frank asked, leaning forward to prop an elbow on the rickety table. Bill opened his mouth to answer, but a hard knock sounded at the door and they all jerked. Instead, they all turned toward the door slowly. As the knock sounded a second time. [00:24:20] Bill rose from his chair slowly and spoke to them over his shoulder. [00:24:25] I think I'll let them explain. [00:24:27] He went to answer the door. [00:24:38] Join us next time for the exciting continuation of Laurel Township Triangle Episode 2 the Last Forest. In the meantime, check out our website, jbcrossauthor.com to find JB's work in print and more episodes of the podcast. Make sure you also keep up with us on X, Facebook, Pinterest, Instagram, and TikTok so you know when our special events and new episodes are coming. In fact, drop us a line while you're there. Give us a spooky or a fun idea. We'll spin it into a nice yarn just for you. Until then, remember friends, don't be too loud at night. Always lock your doors and never stare at the moon. JB's radio show is produced and copyrighted by the Koteria of North America. All rights reserved.