Deadly Deception (SCVC Taskforce)

by Evans, Misty

  Yes, she’d strived for normal all her life, but she’d never had the same type of closeness with her father and his new family that she’d experienced at Wrightsville. Never saw a group of people live and work together so seamlessly.

  All these years, she’d dressed to fit in, watched the same mindless TV shows so she had something to talk to people about around the water cooler, went to the gym, and pushed herself to excel at every job. She’d done whatever it took to act like the people around her, and still always felt like an outsider looking in. She bet it was the same for many of the people inside this room.

  How pathetic.

  Sometimes the truth was pathetic. Didn’t mean it was any less true or something to be ashamed of. She was tired of being ashamed of her mother for being sucked in by Daniel Karsni. Daniel had some pretty major faults, but one thing Ronni never doubted was his love for all the people at the molehill.

  Melanie said a few more words about the ailing tractor and the need to keep it running through the busy holiday season. Profits depended on keeping all the equipment operating to cut down on manual labor. She also brought up that the oven at the house was going on the fritz and needed to be looked at. It was burning some things and not thoroughly cooking others, no matter how much she adjusted the temperature. Did anyone have experience repairing commercial ovens?

  No one raised a hand or commented, most people turning to look at their neighbor.

  Adam stepped forward, gave her shoulder a squeeze, and addressed the crowd. “If we have to call in a repairman, it will eat into our profits, and you know how tight Melanie is with the money.” People chuckled and nodded. “Those of you with a gift for mechanical things, please consider taking a look at the oven today or tomorrow and put Melanie’s mind at ease, okay?”

  Melanie gave Adam a huge smile, then turned the stage back over to him. Pride showed on his face and he clapped with the rest of the crowd as she resumed her seat next to Ronni.

  It was hard not to appreciate Adam’s warmth.

  He opened his sermon with a prayer, called on a few people in the group and asked about troubles they’d had, such as a cold or injury, or a disagreement, and he asked a few to share positive things they’d recently experienced. Laughter rang out frequently as Adam put a light-hearted spin on everything.

  Once the group shared what was on their mind, Adam dove into scripture. He didn’t read from the Bible—apparently he knew the passage by heart. The girl next to Ronni swung her legs under the pew and folded her hands in her lap. Every once in a while, she’d sneak a look at Ronni, even when her mother purposely put a hand on the side of the girl’s face and turned it to face forward.

  Adam was soft spoken, like Daniel had been, and filled with the same passion. He wasn’t reading scripture or preaching just to hear himself speak…he believed in his message. Believed he was transcending his congregation to a higher truth.

  He spoke a lot of about truth and honesty. Ronni tried not to judge.

  It had been a long time since she’d been to a bible study. Twenty years to be exact. Her mind wandered and raced—where was Thomas? Was he okay?—but after a few minutes of listening to Adam’s fervent and enthusiastic sermon, her mind settled, quieted. Like muscle memory, her brain shifted gears. As a nine-year-old, she’d enjoyed the study sessions with Daniel. His view on the spiritual and earthly dimensions had seemed wondrous. A real life fairytale filled with monsters, angels with flaming swords, and a happy ending for those in his flock.

  Melanie ardently watched Adam pace in front of the packed crowd as he revealed his latest vision and how it tied into Revelations 21, a new heaven and a new earth. The look on her face…

  Mom. Ronni’s mother had looked at Daniel that same way. Believed in him the same way.

  Adam didn’t use a microphone, but he didn’t one. The room was quiet, the listeners held in rapt attention. Nothing he said was outrageous, just a studious dissection of biblical verses. There was no doubt he knew his scriptures inside and out.

  “The bible is a coded story,” he entreated his followers. “All you have to do is understand it. All the miracles inside are revealed. All those revelations bring you closer to your higher self. To God. You are a son of God. A daughter of God. Sons and daughters of the Divine, and God, Himself, has laid out these wondrous messages for you, right here.”

  Adam understood the Bible’s confusing language, and as he continued to read from Revelations, he dissected the “code” into layman terms. All around him, his followers nodded and chuckled at his “inside” jokes.

  “You see?” he cajoled with a smile on his face. “I understand the code, and you can too. I’m the key for you to use to decode the messages. To prepare for the second coming. Together, we will build a new earth. Together, we will enjoy a new heaven.”

  A round of applause erupted. The girl on Ronni’s left clapped like her mother. Gave Ronni an odd look when Ronni didn’t join in.

  As the bible study progressed, Adam drew the group deeper into the palm of his hand. When he asked questions, dozens of hands went up, people eager to answer and gain his approval. He was a teacher. Encouraging, smiling at his pupils, equally as eager to involve them in the process of revealing God’s hidden meanings. When anyone answered a question he posed correctly, he showered them with praise.

  After an hour or so, Ronni shifted in her seat, using her peripheral vision to look around. Unlike her, the group didn’t seem bothered by the length of the sermon.

  Adam had told her that everyone at the farm attended bible study. Everyone, including novices and initiates to The Church. Did that include those in quarantine? She hoped it did, because for all his perfectness and annoying attitude, somehow, someway, Thomas had become her touchstone.

  Slowly and carefully, she shifted to her other hip, crossing her legs, and taking a quick peek over her left shoulder. Her eyes scanned the rows behind her, and…

  There. In the back pew. She caught sight of his blue T-shirt, the curve of his neck above the material. A woman sat in front of him, blocking Thomas’s face, but she knew it was him.

  Thank goodness. She faced forward once more, releasing a furtive breath.

  Initially she hadn’t wanted to involve him or anyone else in this operation. Now, she was relieved to have Thomas with her.

  Partner. The word had taken on a deeper meaning. She’d told him trust didn’t just happen, it grew out of something more. Something she’d previously believed was intangible. Now it seemed very real in the form of a six-foot man with incredible blue eyes and an endless supply of playfulness.

  Playfulness. On stage, Adam was acting out the role of God in a humorous manner. So like his father. Unbidden, the ghosts of the past rose from her memories, taunting and just out of reach.

  Mom.

  Ronni had to admit she understood Adam’s search for the truth. She’d shared the same internal mission. When she’d learned of her mother’s death after the siege, her world had flipped upside down. Men and women working for a government agency had interviewed her, over and over. Never unkindly, but she’d been so devastated and terrified after what she’d seen and lived through, she couldn’t speak. Reactive mutism. Overwhelmed by the outside world and suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, she’d mentally and emotionally retreated to a place deep inside where no one could reach her.

  One of them, Anne Marie, was especially kind. She provided new, soft, comfortable clothes, all the food Ronni could eat, and gave her a teddy bear. Peace offerings meant to calm and reassure her. And with every offering, Anne Marie dangled the carrot…if Ronni agreed to talk to them, they’d let her see Adam.

  Ronni’s father had been in the Air Force, stationed in Beirut and far away from the Wrightsville tragedy making headlines around the world. It took nearly a week to clear him to return stateside and find a home for his now motherless daughter. He had yet to remarry and start a new family, and Danielle’s parents were both deceased, so Ronni had no other family to t
ake her in.

  Before the government would hand her over to her dad, though, they’d sent her through deprogramming. Exit counseling, they’d called it, and later, strategic intervention therapy. Like she had a drug or alcohol addiction, instead of suffering from a subtle brainwashing.

  The carrot of seeing Adam had finally opened up the dam inside her chest. She hadn’t told Anne Marie or the others everything…just enough to satisfy some of their questions. No, she’d never been abused or seen her friends being abused. Yes, Daniel had multiple wives and children by them. Yes, some of the wives were teenagers. No, she didn’t know who fired the first shots…

  In front of her, Adam’s voice rose. He lifted his arms in the air and stared heavenward. “I am the Light, the Truth…” He paused, closing his eyes. “The truth. Our mission here tonight and every night, my friends. Find the truth. Be part of the truth.”

  Amens echoed through the room. Adam smiled, eyes still closed. He clenched his raised fists. “I am the Way. I. Am. The. Way.”

  More amens. Someone behind Ronni said, “Yes, Adam.”

  The girl beside her stared up at Ronni with beguiling eyes. For her young age, she was extremely well-behaved. Less fidgety than Ronni. Innocent.

  Adam opened his eyes, scanned the crowd. His gaze fell on her and the girl. “No one comes to the Father but by me.”

  The girl stiffened, feeling the intensity of Adam’s gaze and his words. There were many ways of indoctrinating people. Had Daniel ever forced anyone to believe he was gifted by a higher being? No. Was Adam forcing anyone in this room to stay here and listen to him preach? No.

  Blatant, aggressive, violent brainwashing did not exist inside Heaven’s Gate Farm any more than it had inside Mount Royal. The people here wanted to be here. Why couldn’t that ever be enough for the men leading them? Why did cult leaders commit crimes, knowing the government would have to intervene and stop them?

  Innocent children sat inside the room. The girl next to Ronni one of them.

  Whatever happens in the next few days, I can’t let them get hurt.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The evening was hot, the dry air tainted with the smells of lavender and sweaty bodies.

  Thomas waited at the back of the room for the meeting to end. After Adam was done—thank God—they’d sung a couple of hymns. A guy had strummed a guitar while Melly played piano. A final prayer was offered, and the group was dismissed.

  Two hours. Two fucking long hours he’d had to sit on a hard church pew. His ass was killing him.

  Better than quarantine, he reminded himself, although the room he’d been shown to wasn’t that bad. A single bed, nightstand, lamp, and plenty of bibles and study guides. One of the guides written by none other than Adam Karsni.

  “Memorize it,” Jacob had said, tossing him the tract. He’d shown Thomas to the room in the men’s quarters and stripped him of his phone, keys, and pocket change. “This is your new way of life.”

  Thomas had thumbed through it, tossed it on the bed. Dysfunctional religious leader with a definite narcissistic personality—the label fit. Adam seemed to be able to empathize with others, but still believed he was the end all and be all. In person, he exuded a childlike manner…not innocent, but untainted by the world and driven by an inner force. He wouldn’t last a day on the streets, and yet his authenticity and determination carried him far in this world.

  After the service, Jacob had demanded Thomas return immediately to his room in the men’s quarters. Ignoring him, Thomas tried to catch Ronni’s eye. He just needed to make eye contact to reassure himself she was okay. He’d sensed he was being watched by Jacob and a few others during the past two hours, so tried not to stare at her. Hard not to. His attention had been constantly drawn to her. She’d calmed her crazy hair a bit, but it hung belligerently above her elegant neck, calling attention to her tantalizing skin, the neat outline of her gorgeous shoulders.

  Taste…he wanted another taste of her luscious lips. Wanted to trail his mouth down that neck and over those shoulders.

  Ronni was currently surrounded by a group of people Adam had called forward. Survivors. The word drifted in the stale evening air.

  Of Wrightsville?

  One by one, they vigorously shook hands with Ronni, some even hugging her. Every once in a while she disappeared among them. There was laughter and a few tears as women embraced her.

  A survivors’ meeting. Had Ronni been prepared for that?

  She seemed at ease. Almost glad to see the others. Adam had an arm around her waist, doting on her like a normal younger brother, proud of his older sister. What was he up to?

  The guy is seriously messed up.

  But the way to stay close to Ronni was to get close to Adam. Thomas had a plan.

  Jacob approached. “Find your way back to the men’s quarters. Now.”

  At the front of the room, Ronni turned and scanned faces. Looking for him?

  “I need to speak to Adam,” Thomas said.

  Jacob stepped in front of him, blocking his view of Ronni. “Everyone wants to talk to Adam. He doesn’t have time for you today.”

  He might not see Ronni again until tomorrow. Shifting, he moved around Jacob so he could keep her in his sight. Her gaze, still roaming the crowd, met his. She was beaming.

  The image brought to mind his mother and all the times she’d walked out of a movie theater with that same look on her face. Whimsical, daydreaming happiness. All the movies they saw together—just her and Thomas—they had intentionally lost themselves in a fictional world where the good guys trumped the bad guys and love conquered all.

  Not entirely different from the world Adam was handing his followers.

  Thinking about his partner enjoying herself in this crowd made Thomas’s skin crawl. He had the urge to shake her out of it. How could she fall so easily for this crap?

  “It’s about the tractor,” Thomas said to Jacob. He started walking toward the front, ignoring the man’s demands to stop.

  Thomas did an imitation of his run through the airport, dodging people as he went after his prey. The only thing different was that this time he was being pursued as well.

  Jacob was no slouch, his previous military training evident. Avoiding him was difficult, but Jacob apparently didn’t want to create a scene. He stayed two steps behind Thomas and almost caught him at the front pew, but Thomas jumped the pew and landed behind Adam, brushing his hand across Ronni’s hip as he went.

  But Jacob was smart. He’d signaled another man near the stage, and the guy—a regular behemoth—grabbed Thomas by the back of his shirt. “Not today, young man.”

  Ronni sighed, pinched the bridge of her nose. The light left her eyes as she came to his rescue. “He means no harm.”

  Adam shook his head in irritation. “Escort him back to his room, Ralph.”

  Getting close to Adam meant gaining his trust. Thomas needed to prove himself useful instead. “I can fix the tractor. Get you back in business in an hour or two, tops.”

  Adam looked doubtful. “Is that so? You don’t even know what’s wrong with it.”

  No, he didn’t, and this could backfire on him big time. He shook off Wreck-It Ralph’s grip and exuded total confidence anyway. “I’m a bit of a gearhead. I can probably fix the oven as well.”

  Silence. An exchange of guarded expressions. Adam glanced at Ronni, saw her pleading eyes and considered the offer. “I’ll allow you two hours. If the tractor is not fixed, return to your room. Ralph and Elias will show you where the tools and such are.”

  Melly jumped in. “What about the oven?”

  “If he fixes the tractor,” Adam said. “He can look at the oven tomorrow.”

  Ronni gave Thomas a sly smile. Yep, he was brownnosing and she knew it. Adam probably knew it, too, but it was no skin off Adam’s back if Thomas failed.

  God, he hoped he could pull it off. What the fuck did he know about tractors?

  He winked at Ronni—false bravado—then followed R
alph outside.

  The tractor was where it had crapped out by the fence. Ralph led him into a tool shed. Another man—Dr. Elias Elgin, the one Ronni had told them about—joined them. Elias wore overalls with oil and mud stains on them—not exactly medical profession attire, but after a couple words from Ralph, Elgin nodded and pointed Thomas to a wall of tools. Ralph crossed his arms over his broad chest. Together, he and the doctor waited.

  A test. “I need to see the engine before I know what tools I’ll need.”

  Without waiting for them, Thomas headed for the tractor. The red monstrosity stared belligerently back at him. An engine’s an engine. He’d seen and worked on a few diesels in Iraq, under fire even. How hard could it be to fix a simple agricultural tractor on a warm day in Southern California?

  Heaving a giant sigh, Thomas put a hand on the tractor’s side. Bowing his head, he did his version of a prayer. “Help me out, here, ol’ girl. I need it.”

  “Let me show you around,” Adam said, leading Ronni out of the meeting room.

  The air outside was humid, but a slight breeze cooled her skin. Better than the airless room inside.

  A few people followed them, some stopping Adam and asking a question or reporting in on something about the farm. A few more introducing themselves to her and shaking her hand. Some matched their pictures in her binder. Others were harder to place. Adam was patient and good natured with everyone, and while he was distracted, Ronni took the opportunity to look around and find Thomas.

  The tractor was in the same spot it had been when they’d arrived, a cultivator attached at the rear. Thomas kneeled on one side of the engine, sleeves rolled up, and hands buried deep inside the beast. Ralph and Dr. Elgin stood watching him, and although she was too far away to hear what he was saying, she could see he was talking as he worked.

  As people drifted away from her and Adam, some of them gathered around the tractor, watching and listening. Women stood in groups, whispering to each other and giggling behind their hands. A few men, also grouped together, stood with arms crossed, shooting irritated glances at the women, but soon they, too, lightened up and laughed at whatever running commentary Thomas was spouting.