A Rough and Tumble Business

Earlier that morning John Morgan, investigative reporter, is checking out Wood Manor. Learning from some more sympathetic souls in Rockport proper of the newly arrived owners disappearance, he sees the next link in the chain of weird events.

Observing dew on the grass evaporating in the sun of the new day, John could feel the oncoming heat. Another scorcher today, strange for this time of year. Yet another unusual thing about Rockport. His journalists instinct was itching at the back of his mind. There was definitely something odd, something big, going on here.

Slipping under the red rope that cordoned off the porch and the house within, he moved to the door, and windows looking for a way in. Sure enough one of the windows was not latched. Like so many small towns in rural America, even the ones on the coast, doors and windows were often not locked.

"Locks are for honest people anyway..." John whispered to no one in particular ans he carefully slid through the window into what looked like a dining room.

Within five minutes he new something was off. The house was too pristine. He saw none of the evidence of day to day living. Looking around a bit more he noted the freshly painted front door and the polish on the floor in the front room. Some one had very carefully cleaned this house a not too long ago. Noting the slight gaps between the boards on the porch and some of those inside the manor he went back out through the window.

"How careful were you I wonder"

Moving around the outside of the house he looked for a way under it. He saw a slanted double door for a storm cellar, and a small well hidden gate on the screening slats of the front porch. The Storm cellar doors were locked, the gate was not. Hoping they had a dry cleaner in Rockport he opened the gate and crawled into the space under the porch.

"Bingo!"

Reaching the area beneath the door step he saw something dark and thick had mingled with the loose dirt. John had seen too many crime scenes in his life to not recognise it, blood. A fair amount of it too.  Mr Wood had not been in a good way when he left this house.

Crawling back out of the gate he saw movement in the periphery of his vision. Springing forward, with as much strength his awkward position could afford, he rolled out on to the grass. The descending club glanced off his head making him see starts.

Two men, at least, were cursing and moving towards him, two very big, rough looking men.

"Fellas lets use our words." he said.

"We don't take kindly to nosy strangers here." one of the men growled.

Both jumped him with clubs in hand.

Still prone he kicked out and caught one of them in the shin making him stumble face first in front of his partner. The second tripped upon his fallen buddy and landed right on the reporter. John fought with all the viciousness of a gutter spawned city rat, taking his attacker by surprise. A few well placed knees and elbows had the man half senseless on the ground beside him.

The second man now on his feet again aimed a steel capped kick at the reporters head. Rolling again he made a desperate grab for the other mans club. Hand closing on the cord wrapped handle he got to his feet.

"Listen friend, maybe we can..." 

The other words cut off with a rush of breath as the second mans club hit him full in the stomach. Not a stranger to violence it took more than a few good hits to knock John down for the count. Trapping the club, and it's owners arm, against his gut with his left hand he brought the club up with his right. It hit with a solid thud against the mans jaw. His eyes rolled up into his head and he crumpled.

"What's this, amateur hour?" said John.

He silenced the first man with a well aimed kick of his own to the head..

He supposed his trip to the Manor was a success. John now knew three more critical pieces of the puzzle of Rockport. One, something bad did happen to Charles Wood. Two, someone knew he was in town and sniffing around. Three, it was now time to lay low and observe the fall out from today.

He tried hard not to think about what may have happened to him if he had not got lucky coming out form under that porch.