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Text of Chapter One
Zeke the cadaver dog raised his big head as if he’d just thought of a question. He paused his zig-zag search pattern, to turn and face me and his handler. His loud bark sent a shock through me, even though I’d watched him open his jaws to let loose with it.
The producers of “The Ghost Toucher” claimed they were testing a theory that dogs like Zeke are guided by the spirits of the dead. Zeke and his handler were brought in to sniff out the ghost of Saint Mungo’s Church. I thought it was a ploy to jazz up an otherwise boring location shoot.
My assignment was to be the generic minister type in a dark suit and clerical collar who’d say to the camera, “I’ve heard the wild rumors, of course, but haven’t seen anything like what you’re looking for…”
That’s the line I’d stick with if asked. I sure wouldn’t tell them what I’d seen just before the dog barked.
Annika, the handler said, “Good dog, Zeke. You’re such a good dog.”
She knelt to unclip Zeke’s black nylon leash from his safety orange Search and Rescue harness.
“Bones, Zeke. Find the bones!”
Annika tucked the leash in a pocket of her khaki tactical vest as she rose to stand.
She said, “That bark was his first tell Reverend Tom. He may have something.”
The sable-coated German Shepherd bounded up the aisle towards the front of the Saint Mungo’s sanctuary, leaving paw-prints pressed deep into the crimson carpet. He cleared the three steps up to the chancel platform in a powerful leap, landed under the dark oak communion table, and skidded between its legs. Zeke's nails clicked and scratched at the polished wood flooring as he scrambled for footing.
I turned to face the dog-handler, who had all of my six feet of height, and a bit more in her tactical boots. I met her eyes, which were amber.
“Annika, is he really searching for bones?”
“That’s just his go-word. Zeke’s trained to find bones, blood, and partial or complete human remains.”
Those last words chilled me, despite Annika’s bright smile, and the withering heat. The production crew had set up a bank of huge carbon-arc spots. They shone down from the rear balcony, lighting the church up like a high-end car dealership, and roasting us like convenience store hot-dogs.
All the sanctuary windows are stained glass. You’d never know that outside it was a cold and grey morning. A late winter blizzard that left folks from Arkansas to Quebec plowing and digging had also blasted Oakville. I’d felt lucky to get from my car to the church’s side door without tumbling on the slick ice.
Zeke regained his traction on the hardwood floor and dashed towards an oak door set in the wall beside the organ keyboard. He nosed it open and stood peering down the back stairs.
His body vibrating, Zeke turned back towards Annika and opened his jaws for another harsh bark, which echoed through the sanctuary.
“That’s his second tell,” Annika explained. “He wants to get down to the basement.”
Annika’s long blonde hair lifted as she ran to her dog. Her thick-soled boots thudded on the hardwood floor. A holstered phone and a long black flashlight bounced against her hip.
Reaching the doorway, she squatted near Zeke and dug into a vest pocket for a treat. The German Shepherd licked it from her open palm.
“Good dog, Zeke. Bones?”
Zeke took his cue and dove down the back stairs. Annika was right behind him.
I headed toward the chancel steps, halting when I heard, “You need to let us through, Reverend Tom!”
I pivoted in time to avoid Kat Daniels, the assistant director, waving her aluminum clipboard as if she were swatting flies, and me, out of her path.
Hassan, the camera operator was close at Kat’s fashionable heels. His muscled frame made the video rig strapped to his shoulder look small. As he side-stepped to pass us, I backed out of his way until I felt the hard edge of a pew against my rear end.
Kat ran after the camera operator, shouting orders.
“Go! Go! We need this shot. Get downstairs and see what the dog’s found.”
The Book of Answers audio version