Anointest My Head With Oil

by Debbie Viguié

  Mark held up his hands. “No one wants to cause a panic or, worse yet, inspire copycats.”

  “Yeah, I can see how that would be extremely inconvenient for the police and the firefighters.”

  “That’s enough!” Mark boomed, his voice filling the room. “No one is taking this lightly, least of all me.”

  “Then what are you going to do about it?” Jeremiah asked, glaring.

  Mark could tell this was a sensitive topic for Jeremiah and with good cause. It felt like there was more going on, though, than he was telling him. He wasn’t sure what to do.

  “I’m going to find the guy responsible,” Mark said.

  “And?”

  “And throw him in jail.”

  Jeremiah glared at him, but Mark forced himself not to flinch. “I’m a cop. That’s what I do.”

  “You know what I used to do?”

  “Take care of the enemies of Israel, I get it. But you said it. That’s what you used to do. You don’t have to protect your people anymore. You have a different job. You’re a rabbi.”

  “Different name, same job,” Jeremiah growled.

  “Protecting souls not lives. Different application, different tools. Words of counsel and spiritual advice as opposed to guns and knives.”

  “There is no soul to protect without life.”

  “Yeah, and life isn’t worth anything without a soul,” Mark countered.

  He was starting to sweat. This was a nightmare. His own personal idea of hell was getting into a philosophical, theological argument with an angry rabbi who could kill him using just his pinky.

  Mark stood abruptly. He needed to leave before things just became worse. They both needed to cool down. “I have to go. I’ll talk to you in the morning,” he said.

  Jeremiah continued to glare daggers at him, but didn’t say anything.

  Mark opened the door and walked out into the main office. He halted in midstride when the front door opened and Marie walked in, moving woodenly, like some sort of zombie in a horror film.

  “Marie, I thought you were leaving,” he said, startled by her appearance.

  She didn’t respond.

  “Marie?”

  Jeremiah came out of his office and stood beside Mark.

  Marie had gone ash white. She was holding a piece of paper and staring down at it. Her hand began to shake.

  “Marie? What is it?” Jeremiah asked sharply.

  She looked up at them and just stared, like she was seeing right through them. Jeremiah moved swiftly over to her and took the paper from her hand. Except for the tremor in her hand she stood completely still, like she was frozen.

  Mark joined him and together they gazed down at the paper she’d been holding. There, written in a font meant to look like flaming letters was a simple, straightforward message.

  You’ll burn next.

  6

  “Where did you find this?” Jeremiah asked.

  “Someone taped it to the gate,” she said.

  “Did you see who?” Mark asked.

  “No. There was no one out there.”

  “Put down the note,” Mark instructed as he reached for his phone.

  Jeremiah dropped the note on the counter in front of Marie’s desk, but continued to stare at it as anger smoldered within him. The arsonist had threatened the wrong synagogue. There was no way he was going to stand by passively and do nothing in the face of this attack.

  He clenched and unclenched the fingers on his left hand as he imagined them wrapping around the neck of the man responsible. He might not yet have the full use of that hand, but he had enough strength in it to choke someone.

  Mark had moved a few feet away as he called in the incident. More police would be here soon, crawling all over his synagogue, looking for clues as to who could have left this.

  “Rabbi?” Marie said, her voice trembling.

  He turned his head to look at her. She looked like she was going to be sick. She reached out and tentatively placed her hand on his arm. He could feel the fear coursing through her. It wasn’t right.

  “I’ll be outside for a few minutes,” he said, his voice a low growl.

  He turned and hurried out the door, sidestepping around Mark as he did so. Outside the night was cool and dark. He slipped from shadow to shadow, eyes and ears attuned to the night. He had only a few brief moments to search on his own before the police got in his way.

  ~

  Mark was surprised when Jeremiah left the office. Half a minute later he was getting off his call and he started to move to follow him. He suddenly thought better of it, though, as he remembered Jeremiah’s mood earlier. It had to be downright nasty now. He took a deep breath and turned his attention to Marie. She didn’t look good. He couldn’t blame her. Finding that letter had to be quite a shock. He needed to get her statement and then send her home where she could feel safe.

  He walked over next to her and they both looked down at the note for a moment. When they looked up she turned to him. She wrapped her arms around herself and hunched her shoulders as though against an invisible icy wind.

  “He’s scaring me.”

  “We will catch him,” Mark promised.

  She shook her head. “Not him. Jeremiah.”

  Mark looked at her, at a loss for words.

  “Did you see the look in his eyes?” she asked.

  He cleared his throat. “I did. It will be okay, though. He’ll be okay.”

  “I’m not so sure,” she said quietly.

  She leaned over the desk and reached for the phone.

  “What are you doing?” he asked.

  “I’m calling Cindy.”

  ~

  Cindy was surprised to see that the synagogue was calling her phone. She answered, wondering what was going on.

  “Cindy? It’s Marie. Could you come over to the synagogue?”

  “Sure. What’s up?”

  “It’s Jeremiah. He’s acting like his old, old self.”

  Alarm shot through Cindy. “I’ll be right there,” she said, standing up as she ended the call.

  “Everything okay?” Traci asked.

  “I need to go to the synagogue. Apparently, Jeremiah is acting…”

  “Scary?”

  “Yes, it sounds like it.”

  “Go; and give him a hug from me.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Are you kidding? I’m better than okay. I’m going to order pizza and Mark can have the leftovers when he gets home.”

  Cindy gave Traci a quick hug, feeling bad that she was having to leave so soon and so abruptly.

  Once in the car she made it to the synagogue in what had to be record time. She noticed that there were police cars in the parking lot and her heart sank as she prayed that they had nothing to do with Jeremiah. After what had happened in May she was still jumpy when it came to the police and she knew he was, too.

  Fortunately, the moment she got out of the car she spied a friendly face. Liam walked toward her with a smile and a wave. She breathed a sigh of relief. If this was about Jeremiah he wouldn’t be looking like that.

  “What’s happening?” she asked a little breathlessly.

  “The arsonist who has been targeting synagogues posted a note threatening this one,” he said, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

  “The who that’s been doing what?” she asked, praying she hadn’t heard him right.

  “Oh, sorry. I assumed you’d already heard from Jeremiah or Mark.”

  “No, I haven’t heard anything,” she said.

  “I could try that over again or just skip to the part where I take you to see Jeremiah.”

  “Let’s go with that,” she said.

  “No problem. Come with me,” he said, turning and walking briskly toward the office area.

  She practically had to trot to keep up with him, but that was fine by her. She just wanted to see Jeremiah and make sure he
was alright.

  Liam led her into the office where Jeremiah, Marie, Mark, and a uniformed officer were. She headed straight for Jeremiah and wrapped her arms around him. She gave him a tight hug, not caring who was watching.

  “Are you okay?” she asked, looking up into his eyes.

  He shook his head no, a motion so slight that she was pretty sure she was the only one who noticed. She hugged him tighter and he brought his arms around her and squeezed her back. When he let go, she stepped back and turned to give Marie a brief nod.

  “What’s going on? Liam said something about an arsonist.”

  “You know that little dumpster fire you and Jeremiah dealt with earlier?” Mark asked.

  “Yeah?”

  “Not an accident. It was set deliberately. We’re convinced that the same person has burned six synagogues in Los Angeles and here over the last couple of years.”

  “That’s terrible!”

  “That seems to be the consensus,” Mark said drily.

  “How come this is just now coming to light?” she said, wincing at her involuntary pun.

  “It wasn’t clear until now that it was anything but random. The fires were all started in different ways, at different times of the day or night. Most of them looked like they were accidents, just plain and simple. Whoever is setting them knows what he’s doing, can cover his tracks really well. When the last three all happened here, though, and so close together, well, everyone started taking a much harder look. Three buildings in one city this size burn down that close to each other, that’s odd. Three of the same type of building and that’s more than just coincidence. Ironically, the dumpster fire is the one where they finally found enough evidence to conclude that it was arson.” Mark ended with a shrug.

  “Liam also said something about a note,” Cindy said.

  Mark picked up an evidence bag with a piece of paper in it off the counter. He showed the note to Cindy and she felt a chill just reading the warning.

  “Since the other fires weren’t conclusively ruled as arson, am I to assume none of those synagogues received letters like this?”

  “You are correct,” Mark said. “This is the first letter.”

  “Why? I mean, why not threaten the others as well?”

  “It could be because he figured out that we were onto him, or he was angry at Jeremiah and you for stopping the fire earlier. I don’t know.”

  “You think he knows we stopped his fire?” Cindy asked, her stomach twisting into a knot.

  “I don’t know what to think at this point,” Mark said. “But I certainly can’t rule it out.”

  “Great. That makes me feel so much better,” she said.

  “Sorry, I wish I could tell you for sure, but you’ve been around the game long enough to know that’s not the way it works,” he said.

  “Remember the days when you would just humor me?” she asked.

  “No, and neither do you.”

  “I hate to interrupt, but what exactly are we supposed to do?” Marie asked, her voice cracking slightly.

  It was only the second time Cindy had ever seen Marie vulnerable. It was unnerving and it served to remind her that she should probably be a lot more freaked out than she was.

  Mark paused, clearly thinking through his response. Finally, he answered, “We’re going to station a couple of officers here around the clock to keep an eye on the place for the next couple of days. If we haven’t caught the guy by then you might consider hiring a couple of security guards.”

  “And what if he sees the police presence and just targets a different synagogue?” Cindy asked.

  It struck her that Jeremiah was being awfully quiet through the whole conversation. That usually wasn’t a good thing. She couldn’t imagine what all was going through his head, but it made her nervous. Hopefully they’d have a chance to talk alone sooner rather than later. Clearly something he’d said or done had frightened Marie enough to call her.

  “I’ll be personally speaking with the staff at every synagogue in the area,” Mark said, looking at Jeremiah and putting special emphasis on the word ‘personally’.

  Cindy made note of that and wondered if Mark and Jeremiah had been having an earlier discussion on the topic. If so, she had a feeling that it hadn’t gone well.

  “I’ll suggest private security for them as well and I’ll be having patrol cars as well as undercover cars doing random checks day and night,” Mark said.

  “It’s a start,” Jeremiah said, his accent sounding unusually thick.

  “Yeah, well, it’s the least I can do,” Mark said, grimacing.

  So, she definitely needed to find out what had gone down before she got there. She glanced at Marie whose face was a study of worry. The other woman seemed to not be paying attention to the two men at that moment. Instead her eyes were fixed on the note in the bag on the counter.

  Cindy could take a guess at some of the things running through her mind. Marie was likely worried that she should tell the congregation, but also having anxiety over the fact that it could simply compound the problem. The last thing they needed was abnormal activity around the synagogue, either too many members visiting during the week or too few.

  If Cindy were in her shoes, she’d be double checking with the business manager about whether or not their fire insurance would cover arson and if they were carrying enough insurance to cover the current costs to rebuild and replace everything. She realized, though, that she didn’t know if the synagogue had a business manager or if that all fell on Marie’s shoulders.

  Private security wasn’t a bad idea, but the couple of times the church had employed security guards for events in the past it hadn’t gone so well for various reasons. Heaven knew they could use them, though, with all that seemed to happen around First Shepherd.

  Cindy shook her head as she thought about all the rabbis and their secretaries about to get visits from Mark. The best thing for all involved would be if the arsonist did try to make a move here and they caught him in the act.

  “Don’t you think he might still try to burn down Ezra’s synagogue since he failed today?” Cindy asked, worried for him and his facility.

  “We’ll be posting officers there, too, just in case,” Mark assured her.

  The door opened and another officer came in. “Forensics is wrapping up,” he told Mark and Liam.

  “Did they find anything?” Liam asked.

  “I don’t think so, sir, but you’ll have to speak to them directly.”

  “Thanks,” Mark said. “You and Taylor are taking first watch here tonight. Send Lou and Francis over to the Yeshua Messianic Synagogue.”

  “Will do,” the officer said before leaving the office.

  “Six months,” Mark sighed.

  “What?” Cindy asked.

  “Six months relatively free of drama and craziness. I knew it was too good to last. Liam, we just about finished here?”

  “Unless there’s something else you want to check.”

  “No, I’m all good. I’ve got to get home. I’m late for dinner again.”

  “Don’t worry, Traci was ordering pizza. She said she’d save you the leftovers.”

  Mark made a face. “Cold pizza. Yay.”

  “Better cold pizza than the cold shoulder,” Cindy said, unable to help herself as she got the tiny dig in.

  “Just whose side are you on?” he asked.

  “After today? Definitely Traci’s side. Or, rather, she’s on my side.”

  “Do I want to know what you’re talking about?” Mark asked.

  Cindy smirked. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  “Oh boy, a surprise,” Mark said, making a face. He looked at Jeremiah and then Marie. “I’ll be back in the morning,” he promised. “In the meantime, you three should clear out.”

  Marie made a beeline for the door. Cindy started to join her, but then realized that Jeremiah hadn’t budged. She turned to look questioningly at
him. His jaw was set and he looked like a man on a mission.

  “Are we not leaving?” she asked.

  “You’re leaving,” he said.

  Cindy turned to Mark. “You go ahead. Apparently, we’re not leaving yet.”

  “You should go,” Jeremiah said.

  “Which means that I have to stay,” she countered, standing her ground.

  “It’s dangerous.”

  “When isn’t it dangerous?”

  He wouldn’t look at her which only served to both alarm and irritate her. She glanced at Mark. “Care to tell me what’s going on?”

  Mark sighed and shook his head. “Sorry, Cindy. Not this time.”

  Mark, Liam, and the other officer headed out the door. It closed behind them and Cindy and Jeremiah were alone in the office. She turned to him.

  “Okay, what’s going on?”

  Jeremiah finally looked at her. She could see pain and rage in his eyes and it was startling. Usually he kept his emotions, particularly his negative ones, under lock and key. It was unusual to see them out and on display.

  “Everywhere we go my people are persecuted,” he said, his voice brimming with anger. “It’s the same everywhere. We’ve been driven from our homes time and time again, beaten, killed, burned out, exterminated. Why must it be the same here?”

  Cindy stared hard at him. He had gone someplace that she hadn’t expected. For some reason a line from Fiddler on the Roof came to mind. Tevye reflected on being part of God’s chosen people and wondered once in a while why God couldn’t choose someone else.

  Cindy reached out and took Jeremiah’s hand. “I can’t pretend to know what it was like for you in Israel or what it meant to know that your family had been imprisoned and murdered in Germany. I know that the Jewish people have always been persecuted and likely always will be. I can’t truly understand that either. What I do understand is that someone is threatening this place that you love. Bad things have happened next door at the church. It’s painful, it’s shameful, and it makes me crazy with anger. This isn’t just happening to you. It’s happening to us. I mean, I know we haven’t talked about it a lot. Rabbi Ezra will probably tell us we need to. This is my future husband’s place of work and worship. It’s important to me. It would be important to me even if it wasn’t sitting right next door to my place of work and worship.