Episode 6: Behind the barn. - by Trixie Wrights

…"What was inside that barn?" Rogers slowly lifted his eyes. "Everything." Monroe frowned. "Everything?" The old man nodded. "Everything I couldn't keep inside the restaurant." Allen's pen moved across the paper. "What do you mean by that?" Rogers smiled faintly as his fingers traced their way on his glasses. "You already know what happened to Roxanne." Sal's jaw tightened. "We know what you told us." Rogers chuckled. "There's a difference." Allen stopped writing. "What difference?" Rogers looked toward the empty corner of the room. Then back at them. "I didn't just take her body into the barn." "I kept something else." Monroe leaned forward. "What?" Rogers' fingers slowly tightened around each other. "Her clothes." Silence. "I washed them." "I washed the blood away." "I didn't want Claire to find them." Sal stared at him. "Why keep them?" Rogers shrugged. "I don't know." "Maybe I wanted something to remember her by." Monroe's face hardened. "That's sick." Rogers looked at him. "Perhaps." Then he smiled. "But that wasn't the worst thing in the barn." Allen's pen stopped again. "What was?" Rogers leaned back. "The door had a second lock." Sal frowned. "A second lock?" "Yes." "Why?" Rogers looked directly at him. "Because I didn't want Claire to know what was behind it." Monroe exchanged a glance with Allen. "Your wife didn't know?" "Not at first." Rogers sighed. "She knew there was a barn." "She knew I kept tools there." "She knew I sometimes disappeared for hours." "But she didn't know what I was doing." Allen asked quietly, "When did she find out?" Rogers smiled. "That night." "What happened?" "I had finished cleaning." "The restaurant was closed." "Claire was asleep." "But I couldn't sleep." "I kept thinking about Roxanne." He lowered his voice. "So I went back outside." "The whole farm was dark." "I unlocked the barn." "I walked inside." Rogers paused. "And then I heard footsteps." Sal immediately sat upright. "Whose?" Rogers looked at him. "My wife." Monroe exhaled slowly. "What did she do?" "She stood at the doorway." "She didn't say anything." "She just stared." Rogers' smile disappeared. "She saw the blood." "She saw the shovel." "She saw the knife." "And then..." He swallowed. "She saw the bucket." Allen's face tightened. "What was in the bucket?" Rogers didn't answer. Sal slammed his palm against the table. "Rogers!" The old man flinched. Then smiled. "She screamed." "She screamed so loudly I thought the entire town would hear her." "What did you do?" "I told her to be quiet." "She wouldn't." "She kept asking me what I'd done." Rogers lowered his head. "I told her." "Everything." Monroe shook his head slowly. "And she stayed with you?" Rogers looked up. "She was terrified." "She wanted to leave." "But she couldn't." "Why?" Rogers smiled. "Because I reminded her that she was my wife." Allen's expression changed. "You threatened her." "I didn't have to." "I simply asked her..." He paused. "...who would believe her?" Silence. "An old woman accusing her husband?" "Or the sweet old couple who owned the little restaurant everyone loved?" Rogers laughed quietly. "She understood." Monroe looked sick. "So Claire became your accomplice." Rogers nodded. "Eventually." "She cleaned." "I prepared." "She washed the dishes." "I prepared the meat." "She served the customers." "I made sure they never knew." Sal stared at him. "And she ate it?" Rogers smiled. "Of course." "She ate what I gave her." "She never knew at first." "But eventually..." His voice trailed off. "...she knew exactly what she was eating." Allen slowly placed his pen on the table. "And she still helped you?" Rogers smirked. "Fear does strange things to people." For a moment, nobody spoke. Then Monroe asked, "How many?" Rogers looked at him. "How many what?" "How many people went through that barn?" The old man smiled. "That's when things became interesting." Sal's eyes narrowed. "How?" "The restaurant became popular." Allen looked confused. "Because of the food?" Rogers nodded. "People came from neighbouring towns." "They brought their families." "Some came every weekend." "Others started recommending us." "My wife couldn't believe it." "We were finally making money." Rogers laughed softly. "Everyone wanted the meatballs." Sal's face hardened. "And you kept killing." Rogers looked down. "Yes." "One became two." "Two became three." "Then I stopped counting." Monroe whispered, "How could you do that?" Rogers looked at him. "I stopped seeing them as people." He paused. "They became ingredients." The room fell silent. Allen swallowed. "Then what happened?" Rogers stared at his cuffed hands. "For a while..." "Nothing." "Everything went perfectly." "Until someone came to the restaurant who wasn't supposed to." Sal leaned forward. "Who?" Rogers smiled. "A man." "What did he want?" "Food." "Everyone wanted food." "No." Rogers shook his head. "He wanted something else." "What?" Rogers' eyes lifted. "He wanted to help me." Monroe frowned. "Help you with what?" "The bathroom." Sal stared at him. "What bathroom?" Rogers smiled. "The one that didn't exist." Allen's stomach dropped. Rogers continued. "He told me he could fix the leak in my real bathroom." "He was kind. Too kind." "He followed me toward the barn." "I remember thinking..." Rogers paused. "...this would be easy." Sal's eyes narrowed. "What was his name?" For the first time since the confession began... Rogers' smile disappeared. He looked toward the empty corner. Then toward the door. Then back at the detectives. "Davidson." Monroe froze. "Davidson what?" Rogers leaned forward. "Davidson O'Neill." Sal and Monroe exchanged a look. Allen immediately reached for his pen. Rogers whispered, "But Davidson didn't die." The lights glowed. "He survived." The room went completely silent. Rogers looked down at his cuffed hands. Then slowly lifted his eyes. "I took him into the barn..." "Just like the others." He paused. "But Davidson..." His smile faded. "...wasn't supposed to leave." To Be Continued…

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