by JR Roberts
“Why, thank you,” the lady behind the counter said.
“Does Father Stoll enjoy your teas?” one of the women asked.
The tea lady smiled and said, “He has his own brews, I’m sure. Have a nice day, ladies.”
The ladies left, and the proprietor turned her attention to Clint and Tully.
“Can I help you gentlemen?”
“Are you Mrs. Henry?”
She smiled, which made her pretty face light up.
“There’s no Mrs. Henry. My name is Carol Holby.” She pointed to the name “Mrs. Henry” etched on the window. “That’s just the name of the store.”
“Why?” Tully asked.
Now she pointed to a shelf, on which boxes of tea were stacked. The boxes were labeled “Mrs. Henry.”
“That’s the name of the tea I carry,” she said, “among others.”
Tully still had more questions about the tea, but Clint cut him off.
“Miss Holby, my name is Clint Adams.”
“I know who you are,” she said. “I heard you brought Aggie Kimball back to town. That was a brave thing to do.”
“If it was,” Clint said, “I didn’t know it. To me it was just the right thing to do, not leaving her hanging there.”
Carol folded her arms and said, “Poor Aggie. Such a horrible thing to do to her, and for what?”
“You know,” Clint said, “I don’t really know that. I mean, exactly why she was lynched?”
“Nobody knows,” Carol said. “You’d have to ask Mr. Stoll that.”
“Mr. Stoll?” Clint said. “You don’t call him Father Stoll? I mean, like that other woman did.”
“No,” she said, “I don’t. What can I do for you, Mr. Adams?”
“Well, for one thing, you can call me Clint.”
“Fine, and you can call me Carol. Now that we’re friends maybe you’ll tell me what you want from me?”
“I wanted to talk to someone about Mr. Stoll,” Clint said. “I was told that you’re part of his ... I don’t know what he calls it. Cult?”
She laughed. “Oh, he doesn’t call it that.”
“Okay, whatever it is,” Clint said, “I was told you’re a member, but you don’t sleep and live there.”
“No,” she said, “I don’t. And I’m not a member. Oh, I was, but ... ”
“But what?”
She stared at him for a few moments, then tightened her arms around herself.
“He not only wanted me to sleep there,” she said, “he wanted me to sleep with him. I wasn’t about to do that, so I left.”
“I see,” Clint said. “Then you really are somebody I want to talk to. Can you tell me what you heard, while you were there?”
The door opened and several women came in.
“I have a business to run here, Mr. Adams,” she said.
“Well, how about if I come back when you close? I’ll buy you supper. I really do want to talk to you.”
Carol Holby hesitated, then said, “Fine, come by at five. But I want a good meal.”
“You pick the best place in town,” Clint said. “No problem.”
“We’ll see,” she said, and went to help the new customers.
Clint and Tully left.
“I wonder why Mrs. Henry’s tea gets so much attention?” Tully said.
“You’ll have to try it to see,” Clint suggested.
“Maybe I will,” Tully said. “I actually like tea.”
“Not me,” Clint said. “I hate the stuff.”
“So, what do we do now?”
“You said you had somebody at the hardware store working on a casket?”
“Yeah, Ollie Johnson.”
“Let’s go see if it’s ready and I’ll help you get it to your shop.”
“Okay.”
~*~
They got the simple casket into Tully’s place and locked the front door.
“What do you think?” Tully asked, looking around. “Anybody been here?”
“If they were, they didn’t make a mess looking for Aggie’s body,” Clint said.
“Right.” Tully led the way to the back room, where they knelt down and pried up some of the floorboards. Underneath, wrapped in a blanket, was poor Aggie. This was a hiding place Tully’s grandfather had used to use for items he deemed valuable.
They hauled the body out, carried it to the casket and laid it inside.
“Perfect,” Tully said. “That Ollie does good work.”
They fitted the top of the casket on, and then Tully nailed it down.
“When do you want to take her to the cemetery?” Clint asked.
“Let’s do it in the morning,” Tully suggested. “Early.”
“First light, then,” Clint said.
“I’ll stay here so you can move around,” Tully said.
“And then I’ll spend the night,” Clint said. “After she’s buried I’ll get a hotel room.
“You’ve got a few hours before five,” Tully said. “What are you going to do?”
“I thought I’d take a walk and see if I can get a look at Stoll’s compound.”
“Are you going to talk to him?”
“No, not yet,” Clint said. “I won’t do that until I know more about him.”
“From Carol Holby?”
“And anybody else who’ll talk.”
“Do you think anybody else will?”
“I don’t know,” Clint said. “Maybe Carol can tell me about some other people who joined and left.”
“She’s a pretty woman, that Carol,” Tully said.
“Yes, she is.”
“I don’t know where she came from,” Tully went on. “She wasn’t here when I was.”
“I suppose she moved here after you left,” Clint said. “I tell you what, I’ll find out, if you’re interested in her.”
“Me?” Tully said, laughing. “No, not me. You. Didn’t you see the way she was looking at you?”
“You’re imagining things,” Clint said.
“You better pay attention, then,” Tully said.
“Sure, Tully,” Clint said, heading for the door, “I’ll pay attention.”
Chapter Twelve
Clint walked to the east end of town, kept walking when the buildings ended, following tracks in the dirt. The tracks had been left by boots, horses, and buckboards.
The tracks eventually came to a gate. There was a sign on it that read PRIVATE. He climbed over the gate and walked along the trail until he could see some buildings ahead. Then he took to the woods around the place, to try and get a closer look.
Finally finding a good vantage point, he watched people walking around the compound, all seeming to have jobs to do. They also seemed happy to be doing them. And then he saw a man he assumed was Stoll, walking with two women, each hanging onto an arm. People stopped and nodded to him, smiling. He smiled back and waved.
Stoll walked around the compound like a king, blessing his followers with a generous wave. Finally, he went into the largest building, which Clint assumed was his residence. He took the two women with him. Clint waited a few minutes, but the man didn’t come back out. He finally gave up and walked back to town.
~*~
There wasn’t much for him to do until five, so he went back to Tully’s and the two men took chairs outside and sat down. As people walked by they looked at the two men curiously.
“Do you know any of these people?” Clint asked.
“Not a one,” Tully said. “This whole town seems to have changed since I left.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“About four years.”
“You think so many people moved out, or in, during that time?”
“Seems like it,” Tully said.
“What about your grandfather?” Clint asked. “Did you hear from him while you were gone?”
“A few letters, but they eventually stopped coming.”
“So you came back, not knowing if you’d see any familiar faces,” Clin
t said.
“Just my grandfather,” Tully said. “I sure didn’t expect to come back in time to bury him.”
“That was too bad.”
“And now Aggie,” Tully said, shaking his head. “I don’t understand how Stoll does it. Or how any of them do it. I’ve seen these fellers back East, but I never expected to see it here, in the West.”
“Why not?” Clint asked. “People everywhere tend to look for somebody to follow, don’t they? Politicians, mostly.”
“And now some kind of phony religious leader,” Tully said. “Jesus, I don’t even know if this town still has a mayor.”
“The sheriff says even the mayor is under Stoll’s spell.”
“I can’t figure it,” Tully said. “How do people lose their minds to somebody?”
“I don’t know,” Clint said. “Maybe they’re just weak-minded.” He stood up. “Time for supper.” He stepped into the street.
“Like I said,” Tully called out, “pay attention!”
~*~
Clint entered the teashop, saw that it was empty except for Carol Holby.
“I’m just finishing up,” she said, from behind the counter.
“That’s okay, I’ll wait,” Clint said. “It smells good in here.”
“It does, doesn’t it?” she asked. “I love the fragrance of tea—and so many varieties.”
She closed the metal box she’d been fussing with, shoved an envelope into her pocket.
“I’m ready,” she said, coming around the counter. “Remember, you said the best place in town?”
“I remember.”
“Well then,” she said, “follow me.”
~*~
She took him to the Winslow Steak House, several blocks from her shop. The place was doing a brisk business at suppertime, but they were able to get a table near the back, where most people didn’t want to sit, but which suited Clint.
They sat and ordered two steak dinners from the waiter.
“The biggest and best that you have,” Carol told him.
“Yes, Miss,” the man said, “comin’ up.”
Carol ordered lemonade to drink and, in the absence of beer, Clint asked for coffee.
“I went out and took a look at the compound today,” Clint said.
“Did they see you?”
“No, I snuck around,” he admitted. “I saw a man I figure was Stoll, with two women, and people cow-towing to him.”
“That was him, all right,” she said. “All the women have to be available to him.”
“How does he convince them of that?” Clint asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “He couldn’t convince me.”
“And what about the men?”
“They’re convinced that they’re not really doing their part if they keep their wives and daughters from him.”
“Unbelievable,” Clint said. “I’m surprised somebody hasn’t tried to kill him.”
“Is that what you intend to do?” she asked. “Kill him?”
“Of course not.”
“Well,” she said, “I just mean ... your reputation, and all ... ”
“Reputations aren’t all they’re made out to be,” he said. “That’s mostly just newspaper fodder, and the stuff of dime novels.”
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean—”
“That’s okay,” Clint said. “People tend to believe reputations.”
“Well,” she said, “you do seem like a very nice man. I mean, look what you did for Aggie.”
“There wasn’t anything else to do,” Clint said. “I thought about burying her out there, but at the time I didn’t know if she had any family.”
“When will she be buried?” Carol asked. “I’d like to be there.”
Clint decided not to be so forthcoming—not yet, anyway. He didn’t know her well enough to trust she wouldn’t go running to Stoll with information.
“We haven’t decided, yet.”
“But Mr. Tully has her body?”
“It’s in a safe place,” Clint said. “Somebody’s already tried to take it, twice.”
“That’s awful.”
Their steaks came and they stopped talking about bodies long enough to get into the meal.
Clint found that she had come from back East somewhere about three years ago, almost two years before Albert Stoll first appeared.
“At first he was just a pleasant, nice man, but then he started ... I don’t even know if preaching is the word ... but spinning this web that he cast over most of the people in town. Little by little his following increased, and then he built that horrible compound. I didn’t know what went on there until I decided to join—and then I was sorry.”
“Because he tried to get you to sleep with him?”
“There was really no sleep involved,” she said. “If he doesn’t have the women working, he has them in bed with him, and ... not sleeping.”
“I get t.”
“It’s terrible,” she said. “I mean, I like sex, I really do, but sometimes there’s just ... all these naked bodies in one place, one bed ... and there, in the center of it, is Albert Stoll with what I can only describe as a ... a devilish grin on his face!”
She shuddered, and went back to her meal. “I’m not going to let those terrible images spoil my supper.”
“It is very good,” he said, cutting into his own steak and very much liking the color he saw.
“I told you,” she said, “best place in town!”
~*~
They finished off supper with some good coffee and excellent pie, and then Clint went back to the subject.
“Do you know how many men Mr. Stoll has out there?” Clint asked.
“Well, he’s got some male followers, but I don’t know how many. Some husbands went with their wives, but they’re not happy about it.”
“No, I meant, how many men he has working for him?” Clint said. “Like ... wearing guns, upholding his ... what are they, laws? Rules?”
“Commandments,” she said.
“You’re kidding.”
“I’m not.”
“How many of them?” Clint asked. “Ten?”
“Eight, I think.”
“Eight.”
She nodded. “But I don’t remember any of them.”
“That’s good,” Clint said, “because I’m not really interested in that.”
“And what are you interested in, Mr. Adams?” she asked.
Since he’d been paying attention, like Tully told him, he noticed her flirtatious smile.
Chapter Thirteen
Clint walked Carol home, which was a small house in a section of town he hadn’t yet seen. It was about as far from the compound as she could get.
“Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” she asked.
“I hate tea,” he said.
“You said my place smelled good.”
“Oh, it does,” he said, “but I don’t like the way tea tastes.”
“Well then, maybe you’ll like the way something else tastes.”
She leaned in and kissed him.
“You’re right,” he said. “I do like the taste of that.” He kissed her, and she grabbed hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him into her house.
~*~
Albert Stoll rolled over in his bed and looked at the two naked women next to him. They were wives five and six—or were they six and seven? He was losing count. Maybe remembering their names would help.
These women were in their thirties, married to other men for more than ten years. But he had managed to lure them to his bed by convincing them they needed to be with him in order to enter the Kingdom.
Yes, he’d decided to call it the Kingdom. That sounded much better to him than “Heaven.” Or even “Paradise.”
He eased off the bed without disturbing the two women, who were practically spooning each other. He’d managed to pressure them that having sex with each other was almost as important as having sex with him.
He walked naked to the window, his hard penis leading the way. Outside it was still daylight and his followers were busy at their tasks. His timetable was moving along at exactly the pace he’d envisioned, and it should only take him another couple of months to have the entire town of Winslow converted. At that point the town would be his compound.
The only hitch in his plan had been that bitch, Agnes Kimball. He’d managed to take care of her, only to have this man Clint Adams bring her back to town for burial. There was no way he could allow that. It would be the first chink in his armor for people to see. Even though Adams had already killed two of his disciples, he would bring in more to handle the problem. Once he was rid of Adams, he’d be able to concentrate on the tea woman, Carol Holby. Now there was a conquest he was looking forward to making.
“Father?”
He turned, saw the two women looking at him, while they still lay with their bodies pressed together.
“Are you comin’ back to bed?” one asked.
“I think,” Stoll said, “you two should come over here on your hands and knees and show Father how you truly adore him.”
The two women immediately slid off the bed and crossed the room to him on their hands and knees. Once they reached him they each stroked his hard cock, and then while one of them licked the length of it, the other ducked down even further to glide her tongue over his inner thighs and his balls. Soon they were taking turns sliding his dick in and out of their hot, wet mouths and before long he was ready to explode ...
~*~
As the women got dressed, Stoll told them what their tasks were to be for the next day. For one it was the laundry, for the other the kitchen. He walked them to the door, kissed them both and sent them on their way. He was about to close the door when a small boy named Raymond started by.
“Ray, my boy!”
“Yes, Father.”
“Do you know Billy Caldwell?”
“Yessir, I do.”
“Well, find him for me and tell him I want to see him, all right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“You’ll get a candy for the errand.”
