Evil in Hockley by William Buckel Read Free Book Online

clock.”

Chapter 11
     
    Harry Tanner drove south on Airport
Road from Mono Mills to the sleepy town of Caledon East. Halfway
there he stopped at a set of lights in the middle of nowhere, only
farmer’s homes and fields on either side of the road. Not only were
there traffic lights but other flashing signals in amber or red to
alert drivers that there indeed were traffic lights in the middle
of this desolate stretch of highway: Traffic lights as majestic as
ones found in any city.
    There existed a side road that
connected to Airport Road and ran west toward Caledon. Caledon East
was five kilometres south of the lights and Caledon so why did they
called it Caledon East?
    A stranger question to
answer.
    Why the lights?
    It was a three road intersection. On
the east side, of the side road, was a steep downhill that led to a
swamp. If one were headed east from Caledon on the side road and if
one wasn’t paying attention one would overshoot the intersection
travelling on a road that didn’t exist and be vaulted into the
swamp a couple of hundred feet below. No matter how many amber
warning lights and speed bumps the town installed a few people
every year seemed to merrily drive through all warning signs into
the swamp.
    Tow trucks would be called and the
police filled out reports. Rumour had it that a police officer put
a cruiser into the well travelled swamp one night. Which seemed to
justify calling it a dangerous intersection and thereby a need for
extra cautionary lights.
    Clive Willowby had told Harry that the
intersection was so well lit at night a small plane pilot had
landed on Airport Road thinking it was a runway at Pearson
International. Harry didn’t believe it although it was a hilarious
tale, one only Clive could tell.
    Harry paid his house taxes at the Town
Office in Caledon East then stopped at the grocery store to stock
up. He also made a pit stop at the local LCBO and picked up a badly
needed bottle of whiskey. The circumstances around his brother’s
death would surely drive him to drink.
    He passed his house on the way home to
get a coffee for himself and Sandy at the local donut shop. He
passed a shop built while he was in the Middle East. They tore down
an old historical site (with permission of course) that used to be
an old General Store. In its heyday they sold everything from nails
to bread and for over a hundred years was the entire shopping
centre for the area.
    Across the road from the General Store
used to stand a hotel. It burned down half a century ago and Harry
wondered about the story behind that. There was a mill at the river
across the highway where they ground flour but that too was
abandoned over fifty years before. Unfortunately over a hundred
years ago the railway ran through Orangeville bypassing Mono Mills.
One flourished, the other dwindled.
    Harry found it amusing that people had
lived and died buying all they needed from that single General
Store and today two hundred acres of shopping mall in Orangeville
wasn’t enough to satisfy everyone. People drove to the Toronto and
area shops.
    Harry picked up coffee and gassed up
his Cuda then went home to Sandy. She was busy surfing the net,
searching for every reference in regards to Joe Sharky and his
enterprises. He had several businesses, some rather unusual, having
nothing to do with his exploits north of Hockley.
    Harry dialled Shelley’s number. A male
voice answered, low and authoritative.
    “Hello Mr. Tanner.”
    Harry wondered how he knew. Shelley
wouldn’t have his number or caller ID.
    “You seem to know me. Who am I speaking
to?”
    “A friend. I have information you’d
like to speak to Shelley.”
    There was a pause as though the other
party wanted Harry’s confirmation.
    “That’s right.”
    “I can arrange it Mr.
Tanner.”
    He called Harry mister but it sounded a
tad sarcastic the way he said it.
    “Where and when?”
    “Anytime. She’s at Tony Moore’s
house.”
    Harry chuckled.
    “My mother didn’t raise