by M. Z. Kelly
“You must be working that Prophet case with Kate,” Mo said. “Looks like that teacher she was dating has been in league with the devil.”
I came over to her. “How did you know…”
“It’s all over the telly,” Natalie said, answering for her. “We heard he ate his pistol last night.” Bernie had come out of the bedroom and she was doing a happy dance around the living room with my big dog. She went on while doing the canine two-step. “That reporter, Haley Tristan, says there was a raid on his house last night and you found evidence of his involvement.”
I looked at Dawson and shook my head. “Welcome to Hollywood. The press knows what goes on, almost before me.”
“I got some news ‘bout that maniac you’re after, if you want it,” Mo said, examining her magenta colored nails that matched her workout outfit and hair.
“We can use all the help you can give us, sweetheart,” Dawson said, smiling at my hefty friend.
Mo looked at me. “I like this one. He just might be a keeper.”
I tried to refocus the conversation. “What have you heard?”
“I talked to one of the working girls that idiot Monroe beat up a few weeks back. She said she was held in a motel room for a few hours and he was talking nonsense, something about a killing spree was coming that would change the world.”
My eyes grew wider. I glanced at Dawson, back at her. “What else did she say?”
Mo chewed on a nail before going on. “Monroe claimed there was some kinda compound up in the mountains where he spent his spare time. He said some crazy shit about it being the only place that would be left after the killings began.”
“Did she say where in the mountains?”
Mo shook her big head, brushed back her magenta hair. “Just that it was a secret place nobody knew about.”
I grabbed my purse and Bernie’s leash off the counter. I turned to Dawson. “Let’s go.”
“What have you got in mind, Buttercup?”
“We’re going to have one last talk with your brother.”
FIFTY THREE
“I like your friends,” Dawson said, smiling as he drove Bernie and me to Encino. “What’s this about you being in hibernation?”
I blushed. “Let’s change the subject.” I brushed a hand through my frizzy hair and regarded him. “I want you in the room with me when I talk to your brother.”
“Not gonna happen.”
“He’s your brother, maybe he’ll talk to you.”
He glanced at me. “You know our history. He’d just as soon kill me as look at me.”
“It’s your chance to explain things to him, tell him what you told me earlier this morning.”
He shook his head but didn’t look at me. “Why is it that you can never argue with a woman and win?”
I waited until his eyes finally found me. “Because we’re always right.”
Twenty minutes later Karen Taft came to her door and saw me standing there with Bernie and Joe Dawson. She tried to close the door in my face. I pushed it back and stuck my foot out.
“We need to talk to your brother one more time,” I said. “After today, we’ll go away. I promise.”
She tilted her head toward Dawson. “He’s not going to want to see you.”
Dawson didn’t respond. He just gave me his best I-told-you-so look.
Taft found my eyes again as I said, “I know about their history. We’ll just have to see how it goes.”
She shrugged and pulled the door back. “It’s your funeral.”
Taft stopped at her brother’s bedroom door. “I’ll take the dog into the backyard while you talk.” She smiled for the first time since I’d met her. “I’ve got a thing for animals.”
After thanking her and handing over Bernie’s leash, Dawson and I entered the bedroom. The room was warm and had the same mechanical sounds and medicinal smell as every other time I’d visited. It was still early in the day. Caufield was in bed and I realized the room was darker than before.
I walked over and said, “We need to talk about what’s going to happen today.”
There was no response. I looked over at Dawson who had stayed in a corner of the room. He shrugged. I looked back at Caufield. His eyes were closed and I thought maybe he was asleep.
“You need to talk to us,” I said, raising my voice, at the same time I reached out, touching his arm. “Your brother is here.”
I hadn’t seen his fingers clicking his communication device and jumped when his mechanical voice said, “Go away.”
I raised my voice, trying to get his attention. “Tell us about The Prophet’s compound in the mountains.”
His eyes snapped open, focused on me, but then his gaze moved over to Dawson. “Bastard.”
“What happened in the past is over,” I said to him. “Talk to us.”
His eyes were still fixed on Dawson. “You stole her.”
Dawson took a step forward. “You lost her because of your cheating, Lucas. She also knew you were in league with The Prophet.”
I waited for his response. After a lengthy pause, I started to speak but heard Caufield say, “Everything ends today.”
I leaned in closer to him. “God-damn you. Tell me where he is, where he’s holding Lexi.”
I heard a strange wavering sound and wondered if the speech synthesizer was trying to simulate laughter.
Dawson came closer, until he was at his brother’s side. “Let’s play the game, Lucas. One last time, just for dad.”
I had no idea what he meant but again heard the strange warbling sound before the mechanical voice said, “You always lost.”
Dawson shrugged. “This is your last chance to beat me, just like when we were kids.”
I realized that I was witnessing a conversation rooted in their past as Dawson continued to ask his brother to play the game, whatever that meant.
After a few minutes Dawson said, “Hey, I get it. You don’t think you can beat me. If you want to go out a loser, that’s your choice.” He began walking toward the door.
“Wait.” Dawson stopped and turned back to him. Caufield went on, “I’ve already given the detective…everything I know. If she can figure it out, the game is on. Otherwise…you both lose. Everyone loses.”
FIFTY FOUR
We went at Caufield for another twenty minutes but he refused to talk. I then took Bernie from Karen Taft, thanked her, and we left the house.
“Tell me about the clues he gave you,” Dawson demanded when we were on the sidewalk.
“I have no idea what he’s talking about.”
He came closer until he was inches from my face. “My brother doesn’t just make shit up. He told you where The Prophet is. Put the pieces together.”
My frustration was building. I looked down the street to where there was a small park. “Give me a minute.”
Bernie and I left Dawson and walked over to the park. As my big dog sniffed and wagged, I went over every conversation I’d had with Lucas Caufield. I remembered his personal questions, asking me if I was married and if I liked sex. He’d then bargained with me, forcing me to touch him in exchange for information.
Then I recalled the strange phrases he’d used. There’s a change in the world…The Prophet is back at work…he’s nesting…finding apprentices…waiting for an adversary.
None of it triggered anything that gave me a clue as to where The Prophet might be. I heard footsteps, turned, and realized that Dawson had followed me.
“Come on, Buttercup. Tell me what you know.”
The pitch in my voice lifted, my anxiety level rising as I thought about Lexi and having heard a clue that I didn’t understand. “I don’t know. The more I think…”
Dawson came closer. “Don’t think, just talk. Tell me what he said.”
I went over the first conversation I’d had with his brother again. I then said, “The second time I talked to him the conversation grew even stranger. He said that fate had brought me and The Prophet together. He also sa
id something about the victims being like spiders, food for the wasp so that evil can be born into the world. He told me that The Prophet is like the wasp. He’s pupating and transforming—he’s becoming immortal through death.”
“Maybe the key is the insects,” Dawson said, rubbing his big jaw. “We know that the wasps were used on the victims.”
I shook my head. “I think it’s bigger than that. He also said something about The Prophet being resurrected, that he can only transform if he defeats me—something good.”
“Maybe he thinks you’re an angel, Buttercup.”
I did an eye roll. “That’s definitely not the case.” I turned away from him, this time thinking about the last conversation I’d had with Caufield before today. After a moment, I turned back to him, my voice rising with excitement at what I’d suddenly remembered. “The last time we talked, your brother said The Prophet is closer than I think. He then said something that seemed crazy at the time. He asked me if I understood the properties of water.”
“Water?”
I nodded. “He said that The Apostle works for The Prophet, that he’s like water that has different states. Then he went on about water, how it flows and retreats and exists in different states. He said something about it having different properties—it can be both life affirming and taking.” I met Dawson’s pale eyes. “He then said this is a game—one of life and death and asked me if I believed in God. After I told him yes, he went on again about The Prophet becoming immortal by a rebirth into that which isn’t God.”
“Evil,” Dawson said.
“Yes, but I keep going back to water, his statement about how it flows and retreats and exists in different states, having both life affirming and taking properties. Mo told us that she thinks the Prophet’s compound is in the mountains. I think it’s near water.”
“Maybe the keyword is retreat. The phrase about water existing in different states might mean that he’s at a retreat in another state.” He rubbed his jaw again. “I’m not sure…”
“Wait a minute,” I said as something fell into place. “Several days ago our crime analyst, Selfie, ran a record check on Jenna Collins’ pastor. She said that Joshua Graham takes kids on an annual retreat near Lake Arrowhead.”
“Where the hell is that?”
“It’s in the mountains, a couple of hours from here,” I said, pulling my phone out of my purse. “It’s a body of water and there’s snow on the ground right now—it has water that is both frozen and liquid, existing in two different states. I think Joshua Graham is The Prophet.”
FIFTY FIVE
“What’s the game that you mentioned when you were talking to your brother?” I asked Dawson as he followed the directions I’d pulled up on my phone and drove us to Lake Arrowhead. Bernie was snoozing in the backseat.
I’d thought about calling the taskforce and telling them what we’d pieced together, but then decided against it. While the clues all seemed to fit, I wasn’t completely sure that The Prophet was Joshua Graham or that he would even be in Lake Arrowhead. I also didn’t want Joe Dawson to lose his job if I was wrong and the agency found out he was still working the case.
“Lucas and I used to play a game with our dad,” Dawson said. “He’d give us clues about one of his cases, tell us about the victim and how she was murdered. We’d then have to choose the killer from a list of suspects.”
“Kind of like that board game.” I chuckled. “Just your typical Saturday night family activity.”
His lips turned up in a half-smile. “Maybe you already figured it out, but we weren’t your typical family.”
“And Lucas always won?”
“Most of the time. He was driven and smart, and he always had the ability to think like a killer.” He shook his head. “I guess now we know why.”
“What do you suppose has been in it for him?” I asked. “I mean by him staying in touch with The Prophet and his apostle all these years.”
He shrugged. “Hard to say. Maybe some kind of vicarious thrill. Given his health issues, he hasn’t had much else going for him.” He paused and then added, “It’s also possible that he doesn’t want the world to go on without him.”
“It’s a sad way to end your life.”
He glanced at me. “My brother made a choice, just like we all make choices in life. He has no one to blame but himself.”
As we headed up Highway 118 to Lake Arrowhead I called Selfie. “I need you to check the records and give me the location of where Joshua Graham held his summer retreat for kids.”
I heard some papers rustling and she said, “Just so you know, the taskforce is supposed to meet at noon in L.A. Where are you?”
“Just playing out another hunch. Can you check the records?”
After a couple of minutes she came back on the line. “It’s at a compound called Safe Haven. From what I can tell there’s a main lodge and several cabins, but it looks like it closes down during the winter.” She gave me the address. “I’m not even sure you can get to it because of the snow.”
“Thanks, Selfie. I’ll be in touch.”
Before I could end the call, she asked, “What do you want me to tell the taskforce?”
“Tell them I called in sick.”
I ended the call and gave Dawson the address to the compound. “It sounds like it’s in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by snow.”
“Maybe the wasp is spinning his cocoon.”
What he’d said brought Lexi to mind again. I couldn’t imagine what she was going through, being with the mad man. I just prayed that somehow she’d find the strength to hold on.
Forty-five minutes later, Dawson pulled to the side of the road near the entrance to the compound known as Safe Haven. The driveway was chained off, the parking lot full of fresh powder.
“No tracks, no sign of activity,” I said, feeling deflated and wondering if I’d completely misunderstood the clues.
“Let’s check it out anyway. The worst that can happen is we clear it and move on.”
After trudging through a foot of snow with Bernie we finally made our way to the main lodge. We looked through a couple of windows but the place was dark and appeared deserted.
“What now?” I asked, turning to Dawson and seeing that he had a rock in his hand.
“We sign the guest register,” he said, throwing the rock through a window.
“You never change,” I said, following him over to the window.
“Sure I do, Buttercup. I already told you I get stronger, faster, and smarter”
“And more incorrigible.”
I waited while he made his way through the broken window and then went over and unlocked a side door.
The main lodge consisted of a large living room with an adjacent kitchen and a couple of small offices. It looked like they used the offices to register kids for their program, and then had their meals and gatherings in the main portion of the building. I was about to say that we’d reached a dead end when I heard the sound of a phone ringing. It was coming from down a hallway where the offices were located.
I found the phone in a desk drawer and held my breath as I answered it. “Hello, who is this?”
The line was silent before I heard sobbing. Then I heard a small, familiar voice. “Help me, please.”
“Lexi, what’s going on? Where are you?”
There was more crying as she said, “With a bad man. He’s…” The line then went dead.
Even as I screamed into the phone, begging her to talk to me, I knew it was useless. The call had abruptly ended, along with any hope we had of finding Lexi.
FIFTY SIX
“Dry your eyes. I don’t want you being a mess.” Joshua Graham hands Lexi Mills a tissue and takes away the phone he gave her. “You don’t have any idea about what’s going to happen, do you?”
Lexi blots her eyes, looks up at him, and shakes her head. The last several hours have been a dull blur because of the drugs. She remembers being taken by Mr. Walker and then being held
in a room for several hours. A long time later she woke up in the trunk of a car. After that, this man, the one Mr. Walker had called Joshua, took her. She thinks maybe he killed Mr. Walker but she can’t be sure.
“You have been chosen,” Joshua tells her. “You need to cooperate and be grateful.”
Lexi’s eyes fill with tears as she thinks about Kate, how Joshua made her call her friend. Maybe she’s somewhere close by, trying to find her. If she only had a way to get his phone again, but then she realizes she has no idea where she is. All she knows is that she’s in the mountains and it’s cold here.
“Let’s go,” Joshua says. “We don’t have much time.”
After leading her to the car, Joshua opens the trunk where she was held before. “Get in.”
The fear of being locked in the trunk again overwhelms her. Lexi shakes her head and doesn’t move.
“In the trunk, now,” Joshua commands.
Lexi starts to move forward but at the last moment veers away, running around the truck toward the woods.
“Come back here.”
As she scrambles up the hillside, she knows that Joshua is coming after her. She moves faster now, finding patches of earth where the snow has melted and gaining traction. In a moment, she’s in the cover of deep woods and moving farther away from the screaming man.
When Lexi turns back to check on her pursuer, she slips on the loose rocks above a steep gorge. Her body momentarily becomes airborne and, just for an instant, she thinks this is what freedom feels like.
Then she feels a sharp pain and her world fills with darkness.
FIFTY SEVEN
As Joe Dawson drove us aimlessly through the woods toward the village of Lake Arrowhead, my hopes of finding Lexi spiraled downward. The mountain resort consisted of a large lake surrounded by miles of rugged pine-covered hills, interspersed with homes and cabins. If Lexi were a needle, this was a very big haystack.
