Beth snorted. “This feels like high school. How’s she doing?”
As if in response, Rachel moaned, letting loose an ominous rattling belch. We froze, dreading the worst, but it wasn’t a bucket moment and she subsided.
Looking at my friend sitting on the end of the bed made me realize how long it had been since we had been able to talk. Really talk. Beth grinned back, and the world felt warm and safe again.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“I found a dead hand,” I answered. So much for warm and safe.
“A what?”
“Actually, Gunner found it. In the woods. I think he ate it.”
Beth clamped a hand over her mouth and, for a moment as the memories flooded over me, I thought we were going to have a three-way race for the bucket.
“Please tell me you’re kidding.” Her pale face told me she knew I wasn’t.
“I think it was Enoch’s. It had a wedding ring that matched Maliah’s to a tee.”
“How could it be? Everyone says he took off to sow his wild oats in Sin City.”
“Maybe he was going to, but never went. Or maybe he went and came back. Or maybe someone just told a bald-faced lie to make it seem like he left when he’s really resting in some shallow grave in the middle of the woods. Most of him, anyway.”
“Well, what did you do with it?”
“I told you, Gunner ate it.”
“He did not.” Her face crinkled into yuck mode. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It just happened yesterday. I’ve been trying to get to you. This place is nuts.”
“Spoken like a true mental health professional.” She paused, then, “You realize what you’re saying, don’t you? Someone’s been murdered.”
“Enoch,” I said.
Beth heaved a sigh. “All right. Let’s move on. Any luck finding Maggie?”
I checked Rachel. Still out cold. “Eli thinks there are other Elect properties. There have to be or we would have run into her again by now.”
“I’ve seen her here twice, after the mandatory services like the one when Father announced Enoch’s betrayal. If you commit to the Elect, we’ll probably see her then. She came to the last Naming Ceremony, but I couldn’t get to her. It was strange; every time I tried to maneuver closer to her, she would shift away. I couldn’t tell if it was coincidence or if the people around her were orchestrating it. The group kept away and didn’t talk to anyone that I could see. I’ll try again at your ceremony.”
“You’re going to have to. They seem to be a little cell group that’s kept isolated from the rest of the community. The question is why? I think we’re also going to need a better understanding of the Elect setup. There’s something going on here that we don’t understand yet.”
“Something more than just the usual crazy shit?” Beth asked.
“Whatever it is, it’s keeping some members off the main campus, and it’s possible that knowledge of it got Enoch killed. There are too many people here to keep a big secret. On the other hand, I haven’t felt like the folks I’ve met are hiding anything big.”
“No, but we’ve mostly been dealing with the women. Except for Moses and Eli, we hardly ever see anything of the other men.”
“The highly ranked men, you mean,” I said, thinking of Justus.
Beth smirked, as if following my thoughts. “Yeah, them. I hardly ever see Gabriel or Rachel’s husband, Dathan, or even Casper. If he’s the Elect accountant, you would think you’d see him popping in and out of the office. They’re all in-workers; we should be tripping over them.
“After Moses and Eli,” Beth continued, “Casper is next highest. If there’s some insider secret, he’s sure to know. But I doubt if Baara could be involved in anything. She wouldn’t be able to keep a secret. Gabriel is next in rank, and everyone seemed surprised that he wasn’t made head of security after Enoch left. He’s ex-military. You should have heard the rumbling when Eli showed up and Father elevated him past all the others. He’s not well liked here because of it.”
“Except by the women.”
“Oh, yeah,” Beth grinned. “The women will always like our boy.”
“I still can’t believe Father promoted him so fast. It seems so out of character.”
“It was, but I had only been here a week, so I’m just guessing. I got here right after the searchers came back without Enoch. People were really jumpy. That’s why they moved me out of Corinth so fast too, which was also unusual. Then, Father got attacked outside one of the Peace meetings, and everyone was saying it felt like a setup. The rumor was that Enoch had tried to kill Father. Maybe Father wanted to bring in someone completely unconnected to the whole church. Someone who had already proved himself. But it sure pissed the guys off.”
“Father may have brought in a ringer, but he doesn’t seem to trust him completely or Eli would have been briefed on the secret, whatever that is. Maybe there really isn’t one.”
“Hold up, I wouldn’t say that. Eli is security, but so are Moses and Gabriel. Eli runs the show here and when Father goes out to speak, but Moses is still Father’s gofer or lieutenant or whatever. So, what does Gabriel do? What is he security of?”
I mulled that over a bit. I could see Father using a divide-and-conquer mentality with his men. He might not trust Eli with all the church business, but it didn’t look like he completely trusted the other men, either. Except… maybe Moses.
Rachel started to snore. Loudly.
“Oh, great. I’ll never sleep through that,” I said.
Beth laughed. “That’s nothin’. You should try rooming with Jazzy.”
“Does she snore too?”
“Worse,” Beth said. “She has certain, shall we say, intestinal issues that arise in the night.”
“Maybe that’s why she’s always so grumpy.”
Beth gave me a sour look. “Speaking of roommates, what do you think happened to Priella?”
“Maliah happened to her. From what I can tell, Priella and Enoch had some kind of affair, but I don’t know how far it went. Rachel seems to believe that Maliah was being unfair to Priella.”
“Rachel might not be the best judge of that,” Beth said. “Rumor has it she had her own fling with Enoch a couple of years back. Supposedly they wanted to marry, but Father pushed Enoch at Maliah.”
It tied in with what happened that afternoon between Rachel and Maliah. I told Beth about it. She was sorry to have missed the fun.
“So, what’s the plan here?” I asked, getting us back on track.
“I guess we hope we get a chance to see Maggie at your Naming Ceremony, try to talk to her, and see if she’s ready to take off. If she won’t… well… we’ve done what we could. We need to bail out at that point.”
Beth’s answer surprised me. “I thought you were the big, brave investigator?”
“If Maggie’s staying here of her own free will, there’s really nothing more we can do. If it weren’t for the way she’s kept so isolated, I would be ready to leave right now, without seeing her again. This church is strange, but it could be worse. Nobody is passing out little cups of Kool-Aid, anyway. Until this thing with Enoch and your, um, discovery, I wouldn’t have said it was dangerous.
“And no matter what you think of me,” she continued. “I’m not willing to put any of us in actual danger.”
“I believe you, but something was behind your decision to pursue this. Something more than trying to keep Reggie sober.”
“Isn’t stopping a young girl from getting caught up in a group like this reason enough?”
“She was already caught up. Your decision was to chase after her.”
Beth smiled. “You’re good, you know.” She stood up, moving over to the door. “Maybe someday when we have more time, I’ll tell you about my niece. In the meantime…”
“Sleep tight, Beth.” The door shut behind her.
For a recovering alcoholic, the only reward for being forced to deal with a drunk is getting to witness th
e hangover the next day. We’re kinda sick that way.
And Rachel was sick in a whole ‘nother way.
“I’m sorry I don’t have any Tylenol,” I said. “They confiscated it the first day I was here.”
“That’s okay,” she said limply. She lay stretched out on the bed, one arm slung across her eyes, warding off light. “Tirza has some hidden away, if I can get to her.”
“My goodness, I’m seeing a whole different side to the Elect, aren’t I?”
“Churches are made up of people; people are fallible. I’m tired of pretending otherwise.”
“What are you going to tell Dathan?”
“I’m sick of lies too.” She shifted to her side, facing away.
“What lies?” I asked softly.
“Lies,” she repeated. “Lies about people…” Rolling back, she gestured around the bare half of the room. “Look at how lives are destroyed.”
“Character assassinations.”
“Exactly.” She flinched at the pain her own exuberance caused.
“How well did you know Priella?”
She was silent for so long, I about decided she wasn’t going to answer. When she finally spoke, her voice was soft, small.
“I didn’t know her. I knew Enoch. He was a truly good person. He wasn’t a playboy like they’re all calling him. He was a true seeker.”
“You don’t believe Enoch and Priella were having an affair?”
“Not a physical one.”
“An emotional affair?” I had counseled plenty of couples who suffered under the strain caused by “technical” fidelity.
“More like… spiritual. He was always searching for a deeper understanding, always trying for perfect obedience.”
“Like agreeing to marry Maliah,” I said.
“He didn’t let his own desires turn him away from doing what was right. No matter what temptations were calling to him, he stayed focused on preparing for the return of the King.”
“Sounds like a lot to give up.”
“We’ve all sacrificed.” The pain in her voice reminded me of the conversation in the kitchen.
“Didn’t Talitha say you have children? You went to visit them?”
“They’re with their daddy. In Arizona.”
“Don’t you miss them?”
She swung her bloodshot eyes to mine. “Every minute of every day. Sometimes it’s all I can do to keep from running off to them.”
The heat of her gaze shifted to the ceiling as if she could cause her children to drop from the heavens if she concentrated hard enough. “When I first came, I didn’t think I would end up staying, but it just felt like the world was getting worse every day. My ex always fought my visits anyway, so I just… stayed. The Bible tells us to keep watch for Jesus’s return, to stay vigilant, and I knew this place could help me do that. My children and I will be together again, if not in this life, then at the throne of Jesus. So I stayed.”
“Why aren’t kids allowed here?” The question had been bugging me for a while.
“The official explanation is because children are guaranteed to be raptured in the first wave. They are innocents. Jesus said, ‘Let the children come unto me.’
“But Father says they’re a distraction,” she continued. “He says they can split our loyalties too. Focusing on earthly ties means our eyes are off the Lord.”
“What’s the unofficial reason?”
“Father hates kids,” she said, deadpan.
We both smiled.
“You could probably sneak them in, and he’d never know. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him outside his house or the temple.” If you didn’t count rolling around in the bushes, that is.
“I do need to see them,” Rachel said. “But not here. There’s too much…” Her eyes clouded as her attention turned inward, tracking thoughts she wasn’t ready to share. When it was obvious she wasn’t going to finish her sentence, I tried nudging.
“Too much what?”
“I’m sorry. I don’t feel good. I have to find Tirza.” Even though she was dodging the question, her pasty complexion bore witness to her statement.
After she left, I lay in bed a while longer trying to snuggle under the thin blanket. Back in the real world, this would have been my Saturday to see clients at the clinic. Guilt rose like a blush, warming my torso but leaving my arms and legs chilled. Closing my eyes, I took a few minutes to think about each person and our work together and sent up a good thought. Was that prayer?
I knew Rachel was right—every church, every organization had its dysfunctional members. Anything run by a group of people was going to have a random mix of do-gooders, control freaks, and your basic, garden-variety whack job. Professionally speaking, that is. But a group where the leadership was fundamentally flawed—maybe even evil—was a dangerous proposition.
With a sigh, I stood up, instantly regretting the decision as my toes curled on the cold floor. I would stay in bed brooding, but that would mean missing breakfast. Not gonna happen.
Talitha was cooking this morning, and she offered a choice of watery scrambled eggs or a gritty homemade granola cereal. Still, it was better than nothing as the recent fast had proven. I learned gratitude in A.A., and it came in handy here.
With only twenty minutes left for breakfast service, the hall was fairly empty. Baara, Cozbi, and Naomi sat lingering over their plates at one table while Maliah and Abigail shared silence at another.
I wouldn’t have minded sitting with Abigail, but it was too early in the morning for Maliah. 11:59 p.m. was too early in the morning for Maliah. Pretending not to see Abigail’s plaintive face, I sat down across from Baara and Cozbi. Rachel trudged in moments later.
She had changed clothes but still looked mighty rough. Bypassing the food line, she foraged in the cooler, returning to the dining hall clutching an overripe banana. Talitha, looking as if she was about to object, took in the pale face and red eyes, and settled for a tsk-tsking headshake.
A sour morning-after smell rose like a scented omen around us as Rachel sat. Eyebrows raised like scandal sensors, Talitha grabbed a kitchen towel and began to wipe the clean table next to ours.
She wasn’t the only person alert to Rachel’s condition. Sitting with her back to Maliah, Rachel was as unaware of the sharp eyes stabbing her back as she was of Maliah’s approaching presence. Until the woman took the seat next to her, that is. Nostrils flaring at Rachel’s odor, a smile darted across Maliah’s face.
Only Baara remained unaware of the brittle quality the air around us took on. Naomi picked up her tray, said a brief good-bye, and fled the scene. Cozbi was the most difficult to read. While not outwardly excited by the brewing drama, she seemed too alert to be called undisturbed. Mostly, she watched.
Clearing my throat, I said to Cozbi. “Has Father mentioned that I’ll be working with you?”
“Yes, I’m looking forward to it. How about we get together after breakfast?”
“What are you talking about?” Maliah demanded.
“Father has assigned me to be Letty’s mentor. She’s preparing to take The Vow.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. She hasn’t even been named yet. And there are several others who have been here longer. What about Beth? Or even Cheryl?”
“Do you question Father’s wisdom?” Rachel cut in, drawing first blood. “Obviously, he’s seen something special in Letty. He believes she’s ready for The Vow.”
Having been effectively backed into a corner, Maliah was left to either disagree with Father or accede that his decision to fast-track my admission to the inner circle was appropriate.
Shrugging her shoulders in feigned disinterest, Maliah attacked from a different angle.
“Don’t upset yourself, Rachel. You don’t look well. Is it the flu?” Smiling at Rachel’s sudden flush, she continued. “Of course, the decision to bring someone in to the Elect isn’t as onerous as when we have to remove a threat from our midst.”
“We? I thought Father was in c
harge here.” Rachel’s face rapid-cycled to ashen in her anger.
“Father said Priella is going to hell,” Baara inserted.
Rachel and Maliah remained locked in battle.
“Priella was no threat,” Rachel said. “Except, obviously, to you.”
Maliah gritted her teeth so hard I expected to hear them crack. I was not upset at this thought.
“Evidently Father felt she was,” Maliah said.
“Even he can be misguided if he’s given false information.”
A sharp gasp from Baara yanked attention away from the two combatants.
“Father doesn’t make mistakes.” Baara’s voice sank to guttural, nearly growling with intensity.
The anger drained from Rachel’s face and she reached a hand across the table to Baara’s. “But even Father, if he’s not given all the facts…”
Baara stood abruptly, wrenched her hand away, and tipped over a glass of orange juice. “Don’t you say that. Father—”
“Baara—”
“—doesn’t make mistakes. You’re a liar. And liars go to hell too.”
She stomped out of the dining hall, banging the door behind her. Rachel sat in stunned silence while Talitha mopped at the spilled juice.
“Goodness,” Talitha said. “I don’t know what got into poor Baara. She used to follow Rachel around like a lamb. Rachel was even teaching her to read. Baara was so proud of herself. But I guess with all the craziness around here, people are bound to go off half-cocked. And, of course, she’s not exactly right in the head, is she?”
“Talitha,” Cozbi said.
“What?” Talitha looked honestly confused.
Maliah let out a decidedly unattractive snort. Richly satisfied with her morning’s work, she pushed up from the table and tossed a frothy “bye now” over her shoulder as she exited.
“There’s one in every bunch,” Cozbi said.
“She’s mean enough for three bunches.” Talitha, undeterred, blurted out another observation.
This time, no one scolded her.
Chapter Twenty-One
After feeding the dogs, I left to meet with Cozbi. The cabin she and Moses shared was situated across the driveway from the dining hall and between Father’s house and the lodge. Tangles of autumn-browned shrubs and scrub trees grew all around, effectively screening the cabin from view, except possibly in dead winter. Instead of rustic privacy, the dense vegetation gave off an aura of hostility; anyone trying to walk through there would poke her eye out.
The Blood We Spill: Suspense with a Dash of Humor (A Letty Whittaker 12 Step Mystery Book 4) Page 17
