Before We Fade Away Page 3
Fitzsimmons shook his head. “If’n I didn’t see this, I wouldn’t believe it.”
When the coroner and the chief deputy joined the sheriff outside, Bailey was leaning against his cruiser with his eyes cast to the ground. “Doc, I’m gonna send my boys in with y’all now to do the dirty work.”
With the team donning paper slippers and rubber gloves and carrying the needed equipment, everyone but the sheriff entered the house. They went through each room methodically. A bullet was recovered from deep in the wall of Travis’s room behind the poster of Jim Palmer. A bullet casing was also found underneath Daisy’s chair. Countless photos were taken of each body and the area surrounding them. The coroner examined the bodies as completely as possible at the crime scene. More in-depth examinations would be completed at the county morgue. Every spot of blood on the carpet, walls, furniture, and household items was tagged, and samples were taken. Every surface was examined for fingerprints and footprints. The team did not finish their morbid task until early the next morning.
The body of Blackie, the dog, was later found in the woods with his throat cut. An autopsy on his body revealed he had ingested a large piece of raw steak.
The sheriff’s department learned a few more details about the events of that Halloween night. They knew the shootings were done with a handgun firing .380 caliber bullets. They found no match to the bullet with any gun confiscated after the murders. They also believed the Cunningham family knew their killer. No evidence of any break-in was found at any window or door. No broken windows or screens. No tampered locks. Bill and Mary Cunningham were probably killed first with both sharp and blunt, heavy instruments. Ida Mae was presumed the next victim. She had also been raped and sodomized after she was murdered. The investigators believed Betsy Ann and Cletus were murdered in the kitchen before the killer ventured upstairs to shoot and mutilate the other children.
State crime scene investigators were called in to help solve the crimes, but they had no more luck than the local sheriff department. After several years of investigations without any success, the case became a cold case file.
Chapter Five
Professional Help
Dani
The next morning Dad battled the heavy traffic into Orlando. At Dr. DeMarco’s, the receptionist led us into a larger room than the day before with a puffy, beige couch, a brown leather recliner, a small, metal desk, and a couple of waiting room type chairs. The soft blue dress worn by Dr. DeMarco dazzled her eyes. I introduced her to Dad, and she explained the hypnosis procedure.
“If you become too stressed while under hypnosis, I’ll immediately bring you out of your trance. Danielle, sit in the recliner. Don’t cross your legs or arms. You may be in this position for a while, and having them crossed could become uncomfortable. Gently clasp the arms of the chair. Mr. Reynolds, why don’t you sit on the sofa? Danielle, I’ll sit next to you.
“Please relax and close your eyes. Imagine the tension in your body slowly vanishing. It is freeing each body part one at a time, starting with your toes and working up. Visualize your body becoming lighter as the tension fades. Relax your toes, your feet, your calves, thighs, hips, stomach, and so on until you’re completely relaxed. Imagine soothing, flowing water rushing over your feet and ankles, cleansing them of tension. Take slow, deep breaths, ridding your mind of any stress or anxiety. You’re beginning to have a pleasant feeling of drowsiness. You’re getting a sense of deep relaxation in a safe and serene environment. Nothing is interfering with your restful state. We are now going to venture back to your youth.”
My body was relaxing completely. In the background, I heard Dr. DeMarco’s calm voice as my mind seemed to turn inward. A floating sensation took over me, like I was not even sitting in the chair anymore, but soaring in the air. Dr. DeMarco’s voice became distant. I forgot it was even there, yet the soothing sound somehow continued. As I relaxed even further, I was no longer aware of where I was, why I was there, or who was speaking. I was simply content in a state of profound relaxation and deep tranquility.
Then somewhere far away I heard someone calling my name. I didn’t want to hear it. I wanted to stay in that peaceful state of serenity, but the voice kept calling me until I couldn’t ignore it any longer. I felt my body falling back to reality. The leather of the recliner wrapped around me. The voice seemed to be screaming, and I opened my eyes. Dad and Dr. DeMarco were staring at me.
“What happened? Why are you looking at me like that?”
Dr. DeMarco put her hand over mine. “Danielle, you were hypnotized for about twenty-five minutes, but I saw no trauma in your body expressions. While in your hypnotic state, I asked you many questions about where you were and what you were doing. You said you were in the best place in the world, having the happiest time of your life. You saw your mother. Tears of joy were in your eyes when you spoke of her, but no fear or trauma.”
“I don’t remember any of it. What does it mean? I only remember floating in air and being suspended in time.”
“By your reactions under hypnosis, it’s my professional opinion that nothing in your personal life, past or present, is causing your nightmares. You didn’t appear to harbor any devastating experiences from your past. We can now rule out one of the most typical causes of nightmares.”
So nothing happened to me when I was a child: no dirty, old man ever accosted me; I never got lost in the woods; I never got jumped by a monster when I went to those haunted houses on Halloween. “So what do I do now?”
“I’d like you to stop in the lab next door. I’ll give you a script for a blood test to rule out any physical condition. In the meantime, I’ll also give you a script for some sleep medication. You may feel lethargic tomorrow, but you should be able to function. Until we’re able to determine the reason for your nightmares, it’ll enable you to get some rest. If I find no medical reason for your nightmares, we’ll go into phase two of the analysis.”
I stiffened and sat upright. “What’s phase two?”
She looked first at me, then at Dad. “I want to get the blood work results before recommending any further treatment. However, if the tests come back negative for any physical issues, we should proceed with this next step.”
I was getting apprehensive, not knowing what she would recommend.
Dad asked, “What is this next step?”
She cleared her throat. “I plan to suggest an unconventional treatment, but I want to consult with my colleague beforehand. In most cases, we don’t consider it an option. However, finding no basis of any trauma in your background, nor any event triggering your nightmares in your recent history, we need to look at an alternative treatment.”
Both Dad and I were getting impatient. Why doesn’t she simply tell us what it is?
Dr. DeMarco leaned forward in her chair and looked directly into my eyes. “I want you to see a medium.”
I opened my mouth wide enough to insert a football. Dad had the same shocked look on his face. Was I hearing her correctly?
We waited for Dr. DeMarco to explain. “Yes, it’s unusual, but if it works, your nightmares will stop. I’ll work closely with the medium to monitor you during the procedure.”
Perhaps I closed my mouth. Maybe not. This was insane! Voodoo. Exorcism. Witchcraft. All of these things ran through my mind.
Dad seemed as skeptical as I was. “I don’t know. I never expected you to say that. We aren’t into the occult. We’re a good Catholic family.”
Dr. DeMarco immediately responded, “I know it sounds irregular, but believe me, I have great confidence this will work.”
I wasn’t exactly sure what treatment a medium would give. “Uh, what happens? What do they do? Do you see ghosts? Do you talk to ghosts?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. Unlike hypnosis, during a séance you are completely aware of your physical surroundings. It’s not specifically about you. It’s about someone else and you.
I was still confused. “What do you mean?”
“When you are hypnotized, we try to discover what in your psyche causes the problem. What a medium does is to determine why someone else is invading your space, so to speak. Some people try to contact a deceased loved one through a medium. Oftentimes, how successful the connection is depends on both the deceased and the one trying to contact him or her. And of course, the capabilities of the medium.”
I was still skeptical. “A deceased? But I’m not trying to communicate with any dead person. I’d like to see my mom again, but I never thought about contacting her through a medium.”
Dad had been sitting with a puzzled look on his face, taking in our conversation. “Besides contacting someone who died, what other purpose could it have you haven’t told us about?”
Dr. DeMarco continued her explanation. “Sometimes it works in reverse. Sometimes a deceased person tries to contact you.”
Startled, I jerked upright in the chair. “What? You think my mom is trying to contact me?”
“Perhaps not her but someone else.”
“But who? Why?”
“That’s what a medium can determine. This is not in my area of expertise, but it has worked in other cases.”
Dad took my hand. “What do you think, Dani? It sounds bizarre, but if it can help you, maybe you should try it.”
I lifted my hands and covered my face. “I don’t know! I don’t know!”
“You want to get rid of the nightmares. I’ll go with you to the session. Dr. DeMarco will also be there.”
“What if I’m too frightened whenever this dead person comes around? I’m not sure I can handle it.”
“I think you can. Remember that break-in at Emily’s house? The two of you were only thirteen and alone in the house. You took control of the situation, called 911, and stayed on
the line until the police arrived. You were afraid, but you did what you had to do. I know you can handle this.”
I finally acquiesced. “Okay, I’ll do it,” convincing myself more than Dad or Dr. DeMarco.
Dr. DeMarco made an appointment with Nafia Celik, the medium, for Friday evening. Before going home, we stopped at the lab for the blood work and picked up the script for the sleeping medication. I was to take a pill an hour before bedtime. Since I was so exhausted after dinner, I took the pill and went directly to bed.
I’m not sure how long I had been asleep before the dream started, not a nightmare but also not pleasant. My body was floating in air. Not peaceful. Not relaxed. I was shivering, but I was sweating. Then I felt like I was falling through space, plunging swiftly toward the earth. Before I crashed, I popped my eyes open. Still shaking, I went to the bathroom, got a drink of water, and then crawled back into bed. I took deep, relaxing breaths while my mind wandered for a while. Then I fell back to sleep. I was at the large, white house again. However, it was very peaceful. The birds chirped melodiously, the air smelled fresh and clean, and a gentle breeze fluttered my hair against my cheeks. I ambled through a garden full of radiant flowers. Their fragrance enveloped me as I stepped on the narrow, cobblestone path, the flowing sound of nearby water rippling through my ears. As I walked, I was humming, enjoying the sights and sounds around me. Then I heard another faint, far away sound, which gradually grew louder.
Unexpectedly, the garden opened to a meadow where large, flat rocks lay in a semi-circle. Seated on each rock was a child. In the middle of the circle was a petite woman with long, blonde hair. When I looked more closely, I saw her face was extremely red, as if she had a terrible sunburn. When I entered the semi-circle, all the children and the lady looked up at me. They each had red faces, and they were crying. “Why are you so sad?” I asked the lady.
I tried to go closer to comfort her, but when I reached out, she disappeared. The children began to wail. “No, no. It’s okay. Please don’t cry.”
When I approached them, they too disappeared, and I was left all alone in the meadow.
The next thing I knew, Dad was awakening me for breakfast.
Chapter Six
Rumors and Speculations
1971
Sheriff Albert Bailey spent the rest of his career arduously trying to solve the horrendous murders of the Cunningham family. He spent countless hours going over every clue year after year. Periodically, he submitted the partial fingerprint found on a whiskey glass to the National Fingerprint Database, hoping for a match. He frequently went back to the Cunningham House, searching in vain for anything his staff had missed.
His wife Edna worried about him. His favorite pastime had been eating her homemade meals, but he began skipping meals or pushing his plate away half full. “Al, what is it? You never eat anymore? Should I make an appointment for you to see Dr. Kettering? I’m worried about you.”
“No, dear, I’m just not hungry. Maybe I’ll warm it up later.”
In the evening, the sheriff often wandered by the lake, keeping his thoughts and feelings to himself, no longer sharing them with Edna. One night he did not return from his walk. At midnight, a worried Edna went searching for him. She found his lifeless body resting against a hollow log. The coroner ruled he suffered a massive heart attack.
Upon Sheriff Bailey’s passing, Edgar Fitzsimmons was next in line for the sheriff’s position. However, the Cunningham tragedy had devastated Fitzsimmons so much he no longer wanted to remain in law enforcement. Six months after the murders, he resigned. “I’m movin’ back to help my pop run the family hardware business. He’s gettin’ up thar in years and can use my help.”
Deputy Scott Adams finished Sheriff Bailey’s term and was re-elected several times thereafter. Being that Bill Cunningham was a good friend of his, Adams also tried unsuccessfully to solve the brutal murders.
Dan Reynolds, Bill Cunningham’s best friend and chief foreman, became the primary suspect. Since he’d accompanied Bill home that evening, his presence already in the house would account for the absence of broken locks or windows. However, as the authorities soon discovered, Dan Reynolds couldn’t be found. His bank accounts were cleaned out shortly after the incident, leaving his wife Anna with little money to raise her son Andrew. Checks were cashed on their joint accounts from varied locations throughout the south.
Still, if Dan Reynolds was the murderer, what was his motive for killing the Cunningham family in such a coldhearted, brutal manner? Expensive jewelry and up to one hundred thousand dollars in cash were stolen from the library safe. Did Reynolds kill for money? Perhaps Dan was jealous of Bill’s success. Was it more than a rumor purporting Dan and Anna Reynolds were having marital problems? Was Bill Cunningham really the father of the baby Mary was carrying in her womb? Perhaps Mary and Dan were having an affair. Was that the reason for the problems in Anna and Dan’s marriage? Did Bill Cunningham find out about the affair?
If Dan Reynolds wasn’t the murderer, then who was? Maybe it was one of the drifters who spent nights in the Gunderson House. Bill Cunningham’s body was found with his pockets empty. His wallet and all the money on his person were stolen. That money plus the contents of the safe were a substantial amount of loot for a drifter.
Bill Cunningham had no real enemies. He was friends with all his counterparts. Was it possible one of them secretly held a grudge against him?
Bill’s grove workers were satisfied with his leadership. He paid them well for jobs well done. However, what about those employees suspected of setting the fire at the Wesley Road Grove the night of the murders? Were they so upset they’d kill the entire Cunningham family?
After all the investigations and speculations, the main suspect was still Dan Reynolds. Despite a nationwide search and his face shown on television across the country, he somehow eluded any sightings, let alone capture.
Chapter Seven
Over The Top
Dani
Dr. DeMarco had called to inform me the blood work had come back negative regarding any physical reasons for my nightmares. Thus, my appointment with the medium was still scheduled.
The medium’s house did not look like a haunted house as I expected, just an ordinary small, white bungalow with stucco siding and blue-green trim. A bushy oak tree loomed in the tiny front yard, and a cement walkway led to a small, open porch. When Dr. DeMarco arrived, the three of us walked to the door. She rang the doorbell, and I heard footsteps against the floor surface inside. Then the door opened.
A slightly plump woman, barely up to Dad’s shoulders, was robed in a deep red and purple garb tickling her ankles and flowing like a bird from her elbows. She had black, straight hair streaked with strands of gray and falling past her shoulders. She peered at us with her sparkling, ebony eyes nestled in a buttery, sand-toned face.
“Good evening, Dr. DeMarco, Danielle, Mr. Reynolds. Please come in.”
When I shook the medium’s hand, I was surprised how warm and smooth it was, not rough and boney like a witch’s hand. She led us through a double doorway into the living room, filled with heavy furniture and dim lighting. We then went into a small dining area with a kitchen off to one side. No cobwebs. No monsters. She opened a door opposite the kitchen, and we entered an elongated, narrow room. The only source of light came from a floor lamp in the corner, its beam reflecting upward and casting unnerving shadows on the ceiling. The windows’ heavy, black drapes cascading to the floor begged to wrap around and suffocate me. I was afraid to speculate what was behind the door in the wall facing us.
The medium signaled us to sit around a small, square table covered with a deep purple cloth imbedded with sparkling, gold flakes. Thick, brocade fabric covered the accompanying chairs. I gazed around the room, getting more nervous by the second. Dad sat to my left and Dr. DeMarco to my right. The medium sat across from me. Dad, knowing how terrified I was, clasped my hand.
The medium spoke in a low, slightly accented voice. “My name is Nafia Celik. I’m originally from Turkey, but I’ve lived in this country for most of my life. I’m a psychic medium dealing with the paranormal. I have fine-tuned my extrasensory perception so I can interface with the spirits in the afterlife. Oftentimes, I can feel and hear the thoughts, the voices, and the mental sensations created by the energy of spirits. This means I rely on the presence of non-physical energy outside myself for information to help me. I make connections with and deliver messages from people no longer living to those still alive. I can receive information directly from the dead and from the spirits.”