“Can you take us to some of the sheds?” I asked.
She shook her head. “We never saw where we were going, and it was always at night. We knew not to ask.”
What Nandy described amounted to little more than slavery. “We’ll handle this,” I promised her.
“They’ll burn that blues club down like they did Ned’s house.”
“You know they burned Mr. Gaston’s house?” I pulled my cell phone from my pocket to call Coleman.
“It had to be them. They were mad, because I told them I was going to college.” She was crying so hard it was difficult to understand her. “I saw them at the store one day. Fred and Wanda. They’re always the ones who get to leave the compound and act like normal people. I didn’t run. Instead, I stood up to them. I told them I was going to college, that I was going to be someone. They said the people who corrupted me would pay. They said a woman’s place was to be obedient to her father and husband. I shouldn’t have gotten in their face. I should have run away. Now they’ll hurt Curtis and Patricia, too.”
“Do you have any proof they set fire to Ned’s house?”
The question calmed her tears. “No. I just know it.”
Unfortunately, that wasn’t good enough for an arrest. Nandy had a lot of suspicions based on the terrible treatment she’d received. But it wasn’t evidence.
While Tinkie comforted Nandy and Cece made some notes, I called Coleman. I recounted what Nandy had told us, and he asked to speak to Curtis.
“We’ll be along as soon as I finish the concession here. I can’t leave these people in the lurch. Maybe another hour. Would you send someone to check on Patricia? Listening to Nandy talk, I’m worried now.”
He handed me the phone.
“Good work, Sarah Booth,” Coleman said.
“I can’t take credit for stumbling over this.” Another instance where fate, not my sleuthing abilities, handed me a piece of the puzzle.
“Would you stop by Mrs. Hebert’s and alert her to potential trouble?” Coleman asked. “I’ve known Patricia Ann for a long, long time and I feel sorry for anyone who tries to cross her. But let her know there’s a risk.”
“Ten-four.”
While Curtis finished with the barbecue, we chatted with Nandy. She calmed down as she talked about the church. “The men are everything. They make all the decisions. The women do the work and obey. If a woman tried to speak out or even say what she felt, she was punished. My mother,” she teared up again, “Daddy cut her hair. In front of the church. And then he whipped her with everyone watching.”
“Why would he do that?” Tinkie asked.
“She said I was smart and maybe I should go to a church school. He said she defied him by questioning his authority.”
“How did you get away from them?”
“I saw Reverend Farley and Wanda Tatum having sex. I stole Wanda’s cell phone and took pictures of them. Then I hid the phone. I told them I had the pictures and I’d sent them to a friend who would give them to the police if anything happened to me.”
I wanted to clap and applaud Nandy. She’d learned meek behavior to survive, but she was smart and strong and brave. “And so they let you go.”
She nodded. “I thought they had. Then Mr. Ned’s house burned, and I knew it was them, getting back at me.” Her chin trembled. “I have to go back. If I don’t, they’ll hurt more people.”
“No, they won’t,” Cece assured her. “Why did your mother agree to join Farley’s group in the first place?”
“My little sister drowned while we were swimming. Mama was smoking weed and sunbathing down at the river. Daddy told Mama it was God’s punishment for her sinful ways. He said God took Julie because Mama was sinning. He made her believe she was bad. Something happened to her. It was like she broke. She just quit fighting. Daddy had been going to meetings with Reverend Farley and the Midnight Templars, and he said we were selling the house, joining the church, and living a godly life from now on. We sold everything and moved into a tent.”
“How old were you?” Cece asked.
“I was eleven. They pulled me from school, and I lived on the church property in a tent until I ran away.”
“Tell us about the Midnight Templars,” I requested. I’d never heard of the organization, and I had a very, very bad feeling I wasn’t going to like a single thing Nandy offered.
“I don’t know much. Only men can belong. Sometimes Reverend Farley and the head people go to New York or Washington for business meetings. Those are the rich people. A few of the church men belong, but in a different way. Men like Fred and Mason Britt train and practice in the woods with weapons. They teach the children about all the conspiracies in the government, how America is becoming a country of sinners.”
“Sinners as defined by Reverend Farley?”
She nodded.
“Nandy, Sheriff Peters will take care of this, and I promise you he’ll do whatever is necessary to keep you and the Heberts safe.”
* * *
We dropped Cece back at the newspaper and a cooperative Patricia Ann Hebert at the courthouse. Tinkie and I stopped at the hospital. Coleman, as promised, had called to fill us in after talking with a very groggy Mike Hawkins. Mike had been moved to a room, and when we tapped on the door, his wife invited us in.
“He’s gaining strength,” Danni told us. She was ghostly pale and shaky, but her smile was a million watts. “Every hour puts him more in the black.”
“Is he strong enough for questions?” I asked.
“He told the sheriff everything he could remember.” Danni didn’t want to say no, but protecting Mike was her first duty. “Just a few.”
“I know Coleman asked, but do you remember anything about the truck?” I hated to be blunt, but the day was slipping from us. Night was only a few hours away, and I dreaded the possibility another band member would be attacked.
Mike closed his eyes. “I got out of the van and started toward the house. I saw Danni in the doorway, waiting for me. I was so excited about the opening and how well it went. Since Danni was pregnant she had to miss the big night, and I couldn’t wait to share the evening with her.”
Danni picked up his hand and kissed it.
“So you were walking toward the house, yet you turned back to face the street. Why? Did you hear something?”
“I did hear something.” A light touched his face. “I didn’t tell the sheriff this because I’d forgotten. I heard music.”
“The blues?”
He shook his head. “No—”
“It was the national anthem, ‘The Star Spangled Banner,’” Danni said, leaning forward. “I’d forgotten, too, but it was strange. The music was so loud, coming from the truck, except I didn’t see the truck. It was like the music came out of the darkness because the truck was parked there, idling, without any lights.”
Mike was excited. “I heard the music and then the loud muffler, and then the diesel engine when the truck roared past the house and the gun went off.”
“You turned at the sound of the truck’s muffler?”
“At the music. That’s why I was shot in the chest instead of the back.” Mike looked shaky but triumphant that he’d remembered.
“Thank you,” I said. “We’re going to find the person, Mike. You’re already in the healing process. Scott will save the club. Before you know it, Bad to the Bone will be on the stage and playing the blues.”
“The person who did this has to be caught,” Mike said. “This is bigger than me or Koby or Scott and Playin’ the Bones. This is about intimidation and people who are willfully ignorant. It makes me mad they’re using our national anthem when they commit acts of terror, and that’s what this is. We aren’t going to let them win.”
“No we’re not,” Tinkie said. “Now you rest. This has been a lot of help.”
“How’s Jaytee? And Davy? And Zeb?” Mike asked. “Are they safe?”
“They are.” Tinkie checked her watch. “Davy’s in his B&B and Zeb i
s at his place. Both promised to stay put. Jaytee is at Cece’s house. She’ll make sure he stays right there, so no worries.”
“Keep us posted,” Danni said.
“Absolutely,” I promised. We left before we tired Mike.
Tinkie and I ran by Millie’s for a quick bite and then headed to Hilltop to pick up the critters. Dahlia House and Delaney Detective Agency was our destination. We had work to do researching the Midnight Templars. The crazy thing Mike and Danni had remembered—the playing of the national anthem—was a very loose connection to what Nandy had told us about the Midnight Templars and survivalists who felt they were losing control of “their” country. We needed to solidify that connection with real evidence, not my gut feelings.
But the very first thing I had to do was let Harold know his prank against Bijou might have dire consequences. He meant to inconvenience Bijou by cluttering her life with the Foundation Rock people. He’d invited them to hold a revival on her property, and while I was positive Bijou was tough enough to deal with pit vipers, Harold might want to reconsider his action. The problem was I didn’t want to tip Tinkie to what Harold had done. He could tell her, if he chose to.
We were almost home when Cece called. Tinkie answered, and in a few seconds, she grabbed my arm. “Turn around. We have to go to Cece’s.”
“Why?”
“Jaytee is missing and it appears there was a fight in the house. Cece just got there from the newspaper. She’s almost hysterical.”
“Damn,” I said inelegantly, as I whipped the car around in a U-turn and pressed the accelerator to the floor.
15
Harold was on the scene by the time we arrived. He and Roscoe were doing their best to comfort a distraught Cece, with no success.
“There’s not a sign of him. And look!” She pointed at the overturned sofa, a broken lamp, the laptop on the floor, spitting and sizzling. I reached over and unplugged it from the wall where it had been charging.
“We’ll find him, won’t we, Sarah Booth?” Tinkie kicked my foot, but gently.
“Sure we will.” I pulled my thoughts back to the immediate moment. “When did you last talk to Jaytee?”
Cece didn’t have to think. “After you dropped me at the paper, I called and told him I’d be home within the hour. I had to do the edits on my story about the club opening. I finished and came straight home. To find him gone!”
Cece wasn’t a wailer or a whiner, but she was on the verge of losing control. I couldn’t blame her. I knew what it felt like to have your beloved taken by a crazy person. But I wouldn’t think of Graf and Gertrude. I wouldn’t bring that bad karma to this door. Jaytee would be fine. He had to be. Cece deserved a shot at happiness, and Jaytee was the man for her.
Coleman, haggard and exhausted, arrived with DeWayne and began the tedious process of searching for forensic evidence. The TV shows that depict finding DNA or trace evidence in a blur of magical whirring machines and technicians who can spot a molecule on a dust mote are so far from the truth of how most small, underfunded crime units worked that it is laughable.
But I did have a little good news for Coleman. I pulled him aside and told him about my talk with Nandy and Curtis Hebert.
“Midnight Templars,” he said. “What the hell is that?”
“Tinkie and I are checking into it. Nandy wasn’t clear and she couldn’t distinguish between Farley’s activities and this secret organization of rich men. Of course, it could be Farley blowing smoke to appear to be more important than he really is. Or someone could be using Farley as a beard—taking actions they hope the church will be blamed for.”
“I’m sick to death of crazy people.” Coleman’s anger was quiet, and far more lethal than loud anger.
“Couldn’t you just shoot them?” I was only half-kidding.
“I’d like to. Talk about a way to save tax dollars, that would be my choice.”
I had plenty to add, but ranting wouldn’t help. “You can’t fix stupid.”
“Amen. But I can damn sure put it in jail.”
“I’ll investigate the Midnight Templars, but first we have to find Jaytee. Please, for Cece’s sake.”
“We’ll find him, and Sarah Booth, Gertrude has filed trespassing charges against you and Tinkie. I don’t understand why she didn’t do it immediately.”
I didn’t even care. “So, I’ll pay the fine.”
“It’s a bit more complicated, but don’t worry about that right now. There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Frisco Evans has disappeared. He hasn’t been at the car dealership since yesterday afternoon. He was last seen showing a Mercedes roadster to Gertrude. The same model car that you drive.”
“My mother’s car.”
“Exactly.”
“Do you think Gertrude did something to Frisco?”
“It’s possible. It’s also possible he’s behind the new offer to buy the club. He’s a wealthy man. Oscar helped me out a little, and Frisco made some terrific investments. He’s got a lot of disposable cash. I don’t know how he’s involved with Gertrude, or if he’s involved at all. He’s still a viable suspect in the club shootings. He’s used to getting what he wants.”
“He had an alibi.” I sounded pitiful.
“So many things have happened in such a short time frame, we’re both playing catch-up instead of offense. This is a crime wave. I need at least ten more deputies. You and Tinkie are a great help, but we can’t cover the ground we need to cover. What strikes me is that all of this started after Gertrude was released.”
“There is no end to Gertrude’s involvement, is there?”
“Her finger is in this pie, I’m just not sure how. Instead of focusing on her, though, finding Jaytee is the top priority. Now you buck up. I need you strong and alert.”
“Okay.” I met his gaze with calm. Coleman had enough on his plate. He didn’t need to worry I was melting down. “I’m good.”
“You’re amazing, but let’s put that talent toward finding Jaytee.”
DeWayne took the fingerprints he found to the sheriff’s office to run against those on file. It was a long shot, but it was something. I pulled Harold aside and urged him to rescind the invitation to Foundation Rock to gather at Bijou’s property.
“There’s a small problem. I’m not certain I can rescind the invitation. What will be, will be.”
Harold was far too blasé for my taste. “I wouldn’t object if they used Bijou for human sacrifice, but I don’t want it to splash back on you.”
“No worries. If Bijou doesn’t want them on her property, they’ll be gone. Bijou truly can take care of herself, and she isn’t hampered by the law, ethics, or what’s right and wrong. I fear for the person who crosses her. But enough about her.” He pushed my hair out of my eyes. “You look like shit.”
“Such a sweet talker.”
“When this is over, consider my offer of dinner in Venice. You could use a vacation away from everything familiar.”
“You, sir, are a tempter. I might have to report you to Reverend Farley for trying to lure me into bad behavior.”
“That’s only the tip of the iceberg.” He winked at me and went to talk to Cece.
Looking around Cece’s home, I tried to imagine what had happened to Jaytee. The door hadn’t been kicked in, so the harmonica player had opened it to someone. Or perhaps he’d been on the way outside when someone attacked.
The place had been trashed, as if the kidnapper was hunting for something. What did Cece have the kidnapper might want? She was comfortable, but not rich. The likelihood of finding great wealth or even expensive electronics was slim. What could she have of value? Was someone looking for the photos from the club opening? I thought the answer was a firm yes, based on the evidence—her files had been scattered around the room and the intruder had taken the memory cards from the two cameras on her bookcase.
Anyone who knew Cece would know she’d downloaded her photos as soon as she got home and sent
them to the paper. It was SOP for her. That ensured a triplicate set of photos—one on her camera, one on the cloud, and one at the newspaper. But a person who’d never worked in journalism or met daily deadlines wouldn’t realize that. If the intruder had meant to destroy the photos from the club opening—and Fred Doleman had behaved as if he didn’t want to be photographed and possibly identified—then I could make a deduction that might lead to Jaytee’s location.
I caught Coleman alone and told him what I suspected. “They might be holding Jaytee at the church compound.”
“That’s a damn good lead, Sarah Booth.”
“I don’t have solid evidence. Just a hunch.”
“It’ll be difficult to get a judge to give me a search warrant for a church. Everyone on the bench has to run for reelection, and invading church property … not going to happen without major probable cause.”
He didn’t have to explain. I knew the political climate. “It’s a sensitive area, especially these days.” I could have gone into another rant about how justice shouldn’t be held hostage to politics, but none of this was Coleman’s fault. We were all victims of a system out of kilter. “I can go in.”
“Oh, no.” Coleman was having none of that. “If these people are kidnapping, setting fires, and shooting musicians, they wouldn’t think twice about doing something to you. You’d open your mouth and send them into a frenzy. You are absolutely not doing anything that risky.”
“Do you have an alternative plan?”
“We’ll come up with something. Just stay away from Farley’s compound. Promise me.”
“Okay.” I smiled. I had no intention of lying to Coleman. I wasn’t that kind of girl.
* * *
Tinkie was busy comforting Cece, and Harold left for home. Cece would give Tinkie a ride back to Hilltop when they realized I was gone. I hated to set off without my partner, but Tinkie would insist on accompanying me. She was dead-eye Pete with a pistol, but she didn’t need to be involved in my plan.
Bone to Be Wild Page 21
