Turn Back Time

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Turn Back Time Page 13

by Stacy Claflin


  He wouldn’t until he was dead. At least as far as Nick was concerned. Sure, he knew how frustrating married life could be. Even before the divorce, there had been plenty of times he’d wanted to inflict harm on Corrine, but he never did. In fact, he’d only raised his voice with her a handful of times. When he was angry enough to want to hit, he walked away and went to the gym. He worked out his feelings through weights or a punching bag until he could speak calmly.

  Chester leaned over the table, pressing his arms against it. “Did you come to admire me?”

  Nick folded his arms and kept his expression void. “You know it.”

  “Hate to tell you, but this is all you get. I don’t kiss on a first date.”

  “How’s prison life treating you?”

  “Everyone loves me.” He rubbed one of his bruises.

  “Ever get any visitors?” Nick rested an elbow on the table and relaxed his pose.

  “What’s it to you?”

  “Just making conversation.”

  Chester’s expression tightened. “What do you want?”

  “Just checking up on my old buddy.”

  “Right.” Chester cracked his knuckles.

  “Ever see your wife or kids?”

  The prisoner flinched. Nick had hit a nerve. Chester’s now-ex-wife had never once visited him, much less brought their twins in to see him—he’d never met them.

  “No?”

  “What’s the point of this visit?”

  “Like I said, just came to say hi. Am I your first visitor?”

  Chester pressed his palms on the table. “And if you are?”

  “I’m not.”

  “All you had to do was look at the visitor log, officer.”

  “Captain,” Nick corrected.

  “Whoop-de-do.” Chester held out his forefinger and twirled it in a circle.

  “Who came to give you a big kiss?”

  “You’d know.”

  Nick shook his head. “Your friends used fake IDs, Woodran. The best of the best—even got through the doors of this maximum security prison.”

  Chester shrugged. “I had nothin’ to do with that.”

  “You know who they really are.”

  “I know their true names, not their worldly names.”

  “Why’d they come to see you?”

  “I’m one of the great prophets.” Chester puffed out his chest.

  “Did you prophesy your arrest?”

  The prisoner’s mouth formed a straight line.

  “Guess not. So, your visitors are from the cult. Or does everyone have a ‘true name’? What’s mine?”

  Chester tapped his nails on the table and arched his bushy brows.

  “What did they tell you? That they’re rebuilding?”

  Something flickered in Chester’s expression, but only for a split-second.

  “Not feeling talkative, are we?”

  Chester narrowed his eyes and his nostrils flared.

  “What’s it going to take to get you to open up? You don’t kiss on a first date, so how about roses? That’s what my ex always liked.”

  His eyes brightened like he was amused, but the man in chains didn’t speak.

  “How about your ex?”

  Chester’s eyes widened.

  “Yes. I know about the divorce, ol’ buddy. Would you like to talk with her?”

  “We aren’t divorced. I never signed those papers. Prophets never suffer dissolution.”

  “You must not be a prophet, then. It’s legal.”

  Chester shook his head. His hands shook.

  “The truth hurts.”

  “Worldly laws have no basis in reality. My marriage to Rebekah extends beyond this world. It’s morally unbreakable.”

  “Try telling that to her husband.”

  His whole body went rigid. He didn’t even blink.

  “Woodran?” Nick tilted his head.

  Chester made two fists. “Bring her in, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

  “Should I bring in the kids, too? What about her husband?”

  He slammed his fists on the table. “I am her only husband and authority!”

  Nick smirked.

  “You don’t believe me?” Chester leaned over the table as close to Nick as he could.

  “Hey, it’s not my place to judge.”

  “You’ve got that right.” They stared each other down for a full minute before Chester spoke again. “Actually, I have a better idea, officer.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Nick asked, allowing his smile to show his amusement. “What’s that?”

  “Forget bringing her in. She won’t come all the way over here. Transfer me into a lower security prison. Then I’ll talk. Tell ya anything you want to know. Hell, I’ll even throw the highest prophet under the bus if you want. Just get me outta here.”

  Nick paused. Why was Chester being so agreeable all of a sudden? “They have a low security area here. It’d be a snap to have you transferred.” Actually, it wouldn’t, but it was doubtful Chester knew that.

  Chester crossed his arms and shook his head. “Nope. Transfer me closer to home. Somewhere near enough that Rebekah will actually visit.”

  Ah, so that was his angle. “Sure. I’ll see what I can do.” Nick pulled out his tablet and scribbled, pretending to write notes. In reality, he was actually watching Chester from the corner of his eye.

  “Really? You can do that?”

  “Well, a police captain could. Not sure an officer has that kind of pull.”

  Chester sighed. “All right, Captain. What do you want to know? I may need time to gather intel.”

  Nick held back a snort. Chester really was mentally disturbed if he thought Nick bought into his sudden willingness to team up. “Just trying to find out if the community is rebuilding legally. If they are, we can leave them alone, you know.”

  “I’ll see what I can find.”

  “And I’ll get you transferred to a minimal security prison closer to home.”

  Chester held up his right hand as high as the restraints would allow. Holding back an eye roll, Nick shook his hand. It was almost believable that the two had struck a deal—especially since Nick had no other choice except to push for the psycho’s transfer. It wouldn’t last. A minimal security unit would never put up with him. Chester would be back here so fast he’d get whiplash.

  The trick would be getting the information out of him before that happened.

  Remembering

  Macy handed out the last flier and headed across the busy street to where Luke spoke with an elderly gentleman. Luke put his arm around her, thanked the man, and turned to Macy. “Any luck?”

  She shook her head. “Maybe we’re too far away from where everyone is being taken.”

  “The community could be anywhere. We’ve exhausted our town.”

  Macy nodded. “True. How many fliers do you have left?”

  “None. I’ve been showing people pictures from my phone.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea. Do you want to keep talking to people or head back?” Macy rubbed her aching neck.

  “I want to tell anyone who will listen, but you’re probably tired.”

  “Exhausted.” Pain squeezed her head from the top and radiated down.

  Luke kissed the top of her head. “Let’s get going. Do you want to stop somewhere to eat?”

  She didn’t realize until that moment just how hungry she was. “Yeah, actually.”

  “I saw a little Italian place near where we parked. Want to go there?”

  “That sounds good.”

  Luke took her hand in his, and they headed for the car. Macy’s head pounded, and the sounds of traffic only made it worse. Luke squeezed her hand. “Are you okay?”

  “I have a headache. I’m sure eating will help.”

  “We’ll go home and rest after dinner. Hopefully that’ll help, too.”

  She nodded, feeling a little of the pressure lift. Just knowing he cared helped so much. They stopped at
a crosswalk. She leaned her head against his shoulder. Luke was definitely her rock. He’d helped her through so many of life’s challenges, and now he was being supportive of her even when his mom was missing.

  The light changed and they crossed. The restaurant came into view. It was a small red building with white siding that looked like it had been a house before being transformed into a business.

  By the time they were seated, Macy's head had begun to feel better. After she drank a glass of water and ate the complimentary bread, her head felt even better. Then, once her stomach was ready for ibuprofen, she reached into her purse for some.

  As they looked over the menus, Luke told Macy about some of the people he’d given fliers to. Even with her headache getting better, it was hard to concentrate. She nodded along, trying her best to listen.

  Just after they’d ordered, her phone rang. She groaned, not wanting to deal with anything else. She dug the phone out of her purse and saw that it was Alex.

  “Hey, Alex. Is everything okay?”

  “Unfortunately, I have bad news.”

  The headache squeezed harder. “What is it?”

  “I just heard that Chester’s ex-wife is missing. You’ve always said good things about her, so I thought you’d want to know.”

  The room spun around her. Macy nearly dropped the phone. “She… she…?”

  Luke looked at her in concern.

  “Macy?” Alex asked.

  She handed Luke the phone. A flurry of emotions danced around inside. Her stomach twisted in knots. Luke asked questions into the phone in the background. Macy couldn’t make sense of them.

  The restaurant disappeared around her, and suddenly she was back at the community with Chester. Macy was scared that she’d never see her family again, especially inside the confines of a crazy cult. She sat, covered in a blanket, in the tiny electricity-free home, as Chester made a fire while telling Macy about Rebekah.

  Chester had just dragged Macy into the community that day, and that evening, he was to marry a woman he’d never met—only exchanged letters with.

  Macy’s memories forwarded to the big meeting hall, where she and Chester stood in front of everyone with Jonah and his wife, Eve. Eve had spent most of the day drilling Macy on the community’s rules. Jonah performed a strange ceremony welcoming Chester and Macy into the cult, and then asked for Rebekah to come up.

  The woman who joined them was barely older than Macy, and turned out to be one of the sweetest people Macy had met. She and Luke were the two people who, more than anyone, had helped Macy adjust to the cult without losing her mind.

  “Macy?” Luke’s voice broke through her flashback. “Macy?”

  She shook her head and blinked. Luke’s face came into view, blurry at first but then clear.

  “Are you okay?” His eyes were wide.

  “I just… Rebekah, was she kidnapped? Or did she go willingly?”

  Color drained from Luke’s face. “Her husband heard her scream in the backyard where she was painting something. When he went outside, the can of paint had been knocked over and she was gone.”

  Macy felt like she was going to be sick. “What about her twins?”

  “They were at her parents’ house.”

  Luke and Macy stared at each other. Macy’s mind raced. “They’re going to come after us, too. The leaders are taking everyone, aren’t they?”

  “It would appear so. I wouldn’t think Teacher Rebekah would be on their hit list, though.”

  “I’m not surprised.”

  He arched a brow.

  “Think about it. Everything that happened that night—it all comes back to me. According to them, she was my mother.”

  Luke nodded knowingly, worry in his eyes. “And responsible for your actions.”

  Tears blurred her vision. “It’s all my fault.”

  “What? No, it’s not.”

  Macy nodded. “It is. I was the one who wanted to escape, and look what happened. People were hurt—people died.” She choked back a sob, the events of that night flashing before her eyes.

  Luke put his hand on hers. “You didn’t kill them. And besides, you were far from the only one who wanted to get out. You were the only one brave enough to try. I was waiting for a job that would let me outside the walls so I could run. That was my big plan.”

  She blinked her tears away. “At least your plan wouldn’t have gotten anyone killed.”

  “How can you blame yourself? It was Jonah’s idiotic rules that caused all of this.”

  Macy frowned. “If I wasn’t stupid enough to get kidnapped in the first place, nobody would’ve gotten hurt.”

  “Then what? Jonah would’ve just kept running the community like a tyrant, and we never would’ve met.”

  She swallowed and held his gaze. It was true she couldn’t imagine life without him—she loved him more than life itself. But at the same time, every day she regretted ever meeting Chester Woodran because of the emotional torment that followed her around. And without having been kidnapped, she never would’ve met Luke. It gutted her that she even considered taking back the one thing that had allowed her to meet Luke, but if it meant saving so many people such torment, she couldn’t help but wish it.

  Mistake

  Alex tapped his steering wheel and stared across the street at the abandoned buildings with broken out windows. Nick’s warning to let the cops handle the case rang in his mind. Alex pushed it aside. Between Lottie’s kidnapping and the distress Macy was dealing with, Alex couldn’t just sit around and wait. No, he had to do something. Tonight, that meant talking with people at a homeless camp on the outskirts of town.

  He checked his torn, greasy flannel and mud-stained jeans. Hopefully, it would be enough to fit in and put people at ease enough to tell him what they knew. He pulled down the visor and checked the mirror. For good measure, he ruffled his hair out and smeared the dirt he’d rubbed on in front of his house.

  A loud crack sounded. Alex glanced around. Across the street, two men were punching each other. One threw the other against a large window that had once been a storefront.

  It was almost enough to make Alex lose his nerve.

  Alex got out of the car and took a deep breath. Sadly, his car looked like it belonged there. The only thing that made it stick out was that it had all its windows intact—and leaving it there might fix that by the time he came back.

  He took a deep breath and headed across the street. A three-legged black cat ran in front of him and down the street.

  “That’s comforting.” He jaunted across the street and headed for an alleyway. Conversation and scuffling sounded beyond it. He stepped over people passed out and held his breath at the strong odor of urine and defecation. It smelled so bad, he wanted to go back to the Meriwether so he could breathe fresher air.

  As he exited the alleyway, the stench was covered by smoke from burning garbage.

  He pressed himself against a wall and took in the sights, trying to figure out where he should start. For the most part, everyone was grouped together.

  A group of three teenagers entered a building not far away. He followed them, keeping a good distance.

  Alex walked inside, acting nonchalant. He scratched his chin—the dried mud really itched—and slowed his pace as the teens stopped at a long-dead escalator and sat on the steps, laughing and shoving each other. They reminded him of the kids he’d seen at the beach earlier. Aside from what had to be horrible life circumstances, they weren’t really any different.

  Without warning, a boy from the group jumped up and headed toward Alex.

  He took a couple steps toward the kid. “Hey.”

  “Who’re you?”

  “I’m looking for someone.”

  The kid folded his arms. “You an undercover cop or somethin’?”

  “Not even close. Just trying to find out what happened to a friend.”

  “I can’t help you.” He moved to the side.

  Alex blocked him. “Maybe you can.
Do you know any of the people who’ve gone missing?”

  He glared at Alex. “People come and go around here all the time, dude.”

  “But are they usually taken?”

  “I don’t know what happens to people. They come, they go. It’s not like anyone’s tied down to a lease, ya know. Let me by. I have to whiz.”

  “Do you know a guy named Rory?”

  The kid shook his head.

  “How about—?”

  “Nope.” He unzipped his jeans.

  Alex moved out of the way. The kid went to the nearest corner and peed. Alex turned away and sighed in frustration. But what had he expected? The first person to open up and tell him everything he needed to know? It was ridiculous, and he knew it.

  He wandered through the former department store, still not finding anyone approachable. Near the back, he found a stairwell. Would he have any better luck upstairs? It was worth a shot. He headed up the stairs, avoiding sleepers and yellow puddles.

  A skinny dude with four missing teeth sat up as Alex approached. “Got a smoke?”

  “Nope. Do you know of anyone who’s been kidnapped around here?”

  “I do if you got weed or somethin’ better.”

  “How about you tell me what I want to know, and I’ll see what I can dig up.”

  “Right.”

  “I will. I just don’t have anything on me.”

  “Hey, yo. Weed talks, or I walk.”

  Great. If Alex wanted information, he’d have to become a drug dealer. Assuming the guy even knew anything. “Forget it. I’m walking.”

  “Your loss, man. I know some guys who been up and kidnapped.”

  Alex waved at him and continued up the stairs. He’d take his chances on finding someone else. Upstairs, he found more groups of people, but they all eyed him wearily. One man even pulled out a dirty blade, making it clear he didn’t want Alex around.

 

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