by Jan Coffey
“Which explains why I feel like I’m being dissected,” she said, rubbing her sweaty palms on her pants.
“I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”
“That’s okay. Anyway, it’s getting late.”
“Do you have a few minutes to go for a walk, or just to sit out on the deck? I promise to behave and not ask so many questions.”
Strangely, Kelly wanted to, but she glanced up at the clock hanging on the wall. “It’s midnight. I have to be up early.”
“Do you walk around and lock up?”
“I usually walk around and double check on things,” Kelly admitted. “Turn off the lights, turn the keys in the locks…if they have them. But all and all, we don’t worry too much about security around here. No fancy alarm systems. We’re so far into the woods that any kind of crime would probably be an inside job.”
“And has there ever been an inside job?”
“I was joking.” She scrunched up her nose. “This must be a professional hazard of your job. A cop is always a cop…even on vacation?”
“You eavesdropped on our dinner conversation.”
“I think you made sure you said it when there was no way I could not overhear it,” she challenged him, taking an apple off the fruit bowl as she started for the door.
“I guess I did.” Tossing his half-eaten apple into a trash barrel, he followed her.
“Why?” She asked, turning off the lights in the kitchen.
“Single male in his mid-forties, traveling alone. I wanted to give you some reason not to be nervous about me.”
Kelly closed the back door. “You thought I’d trust a cop?”
“I figured I’d have to take my chances.” He reached around her and turned the dead bolt on the door. “You didn’t hear everything, though. There was a little detail about me being out on medical leave because of stress.”
“Pressured to write more parking tickets?” she teased.
“Nah. They frowned on me handcuffing so many wisecracking women.”
“In that case,” Kelly said, “I hope they confiscated your equipment before sending you this way.” As they reached her office, she paused and switched off the light inside.
“I managed to smuggle out a few vital pieces.”
She pulled the door closed and turned around, only to run into Ian’s chest. She immediately took a step back, flustered by how close they were in the narrow hallway outside her office.
“I still have to check the front door…and the door from the deck…and…” Her smart mouth had started this, but now her mind was a mush. She tingled in unmentionable places. Her body’s reaction was too embarrassing.
“After you,” he said, edging back, but not giving her too much room to maneuver.
As she slipped past him, her body brushed against his, pushing her senses into overdrive. The lights in the porch dining room were off, but Kelly noticed some of the cushions had been left on the chairs on the deck.
“This is more than you bargained for. I might have to put you to work.” She walked to the door leading outside.
“I’m here to serve. Do with me as you please.”
Kelly waited until she was on the deck. “Are you flirting with me, Mr. Campbell?”
“Would that be a bad thing?”
“I don’t know.” She picked up a cushion, not looking at him. “I can tell you right now, I don’t date. I don’t have affairs. I don’t get especially friendly with the guests at the inn, either…for reasons…well, like this.” Her arms were full. She straightened up and he was right there again, in front of her
“I guess I am hitting on you,” Ian said. Reaching over the cushions in her arms, he kissed her lips.
She was too shocked to move, or say anything, or even kiss him back. At that moment, all she could think of was how good it was to feel this way. To be kissed. To be wanted. The cushions slid out of her arms and fell onto the deck. She tore her mouth free and backed up, looking at him in shock. Then, she bent down to pick them up. Ian bent down at the same time, and they bumped heads.
They both looked up, both of them rubbing their foreheads.
“I used to be little more dignified than this,” Kelly said, unable to stop the laughter from bubbling out.
“I’m a little out of practice myself,” he said with a chuckle, picking the cushions she’d dropped and tucking them under one arm.
She looked down at his left hand, trying to remember if he’d been wearing a ring. Hoping that he wasn’t.
“No wife,” he said, reading her look. “No children. No live-in girlfriends… or boyfriends,” he added with a smile. “I thought I should mention that after the dinner conversation I had with Vic and Brian tonight.”
“Victor is quite a character.” Kelly lifted the lid of the storage bin. He stacked them all in.
Ian’s attention shifted to the lake. A moment later Kelly realized what had distracted him as she heard the bump of a paddle against the side of a canoe.
“I think our newlyweds are back,” he said just as the boat left the line of trees and became visible in the moonlight.
“I should have done a count of the cars and the boats. I could have totally forgotten about them. I can’t imagine they would have liked to be stuck out on the deck for the night.”
“There are worse things than making out under a moon like that,” he said quietly. “But those two don’t strike me as being all that romantic.”
Kelly agreed, but she kept her comment to herself. Standing next to him, she watched Dave and Marisa Meadows step out of the canoe and pull the boat out of the water. The oars went where they belonged. The efficiency with which they worked together was practical…and not at all romantic. There was no joking, no laughing or hugging. Watching them walk up toward the house, Kelly noticed that they were not holding hands. But then, the couple might have seen them on the deck.
“Nice night, isn’t it?” Ian asked casually of the two, as they drew closer.
The woman jumped, and a whisper passed between them.
The husband answered. “Yeah, it’s a great night.”
“How was the water?” Ian pressed, casually slipping an arm around Kelly’s waist.
She didn’t understand what he thought he was doing, but she didn’t step away.
“The water?” Marisa answered as they came up the steps onto the porch.
“Yeah, we were thinking about going for a swim.”
She would have given him a sharp jab with her elbow if it weren’t for the peculiar look that passed between the Meadowses. Kelly couldn’t really describe it. It was almost a look of disapproval, like they were making a judgment. What business was it of theirs? she found herself thinking. She leaned more closely into Ian, and his arm tightened around her.
“It’s definitely too cold for that,” Dave Meadows commented, ushering his wife toward the door. “By the way, what time do you start serving breakfast?”
“Seven,” Kelly replied crisply. “Good night.”
The couple disappeared inside, and Kelly wished she had an ounce of Jade’s stubbornness. Ian would’ve gotten a kiss that would really gave the Meadowses something to be judgmental about. Unfortunately, she was an utter coward.
She reluctantly pulled away and sent him an apologetic look. “I’m ready to pack it in for the night.”
“I’d be happy to accept a rain check,” he said pleasantly, opening the door for her.
Kelly went inside ahead of him. “And what is it exactly that I’d be giving you a rain check for?”
She never gave him a chance to answer. As soon as she was inside, she heard Jade’s voice on the intercom. She was scared and calling for her.
“You go,” Ian said. “I’ll lock this and check the front door.”
Kelly rushed toward the steps, anxious to reach her daughter. To be honest, she was also a little thankful to Jade for getting her out of whatever it was she was getting herself into with Ian Campbell.
Chapter 7
At midnight, all of the lights in the compound were extinguished except for a single bulb that illuminated an open area at the center of the camp that spread up from the edge of the lake. Beneath the old-fashioned light, a raised covered platform called the Pavilion, had been built of rough timber and planks. In the center stood a single chair and a small table. Wires ran from some audio equipment at the side of the platform under the planks to large speakers. All the electronic equipment had been covered with plastic sheeting. A pit for bonfires had been dug in front of the platform, and smoking embers smoldered in dying colors of red and orange. Split-log benches, arranged as in an amphitheater, spread out in concentric crescent rows from the pit and the Pavilion.
Around the Pavilion, long log cabins for attendees extended in pairs like rays from the sun. They started to the right, not thirty yards from the lake, just beyond empty racks built to store dozens of canoes, and continued in a large arc two thirds of the way around the center. There, a cluster of other log buildings had been built, including a very large dining and recreation hall, several administrators’ and counselors’ cabins, and a nurse’s office. Latrines and showers were interspersed among the array of campers’ cabins.
With the exception of an occasional crackle or spark from the dying fire, the camp was deadly quiet. The place was orderly and clean, even though over a hundred new arrivals had been coming in all day. Families, small groups, and individuals had been transported from the commuter parking lot out by the state highway, where they had all left their vehicles. The only sign of habitation, aside from the glowing embers in the pit, was a large white banner that had been strung from the roof of the Pavilion, behind the chair and table. On it, in red letters, “BDM~MDB” were arranged like a mirror image. Those in the camp knew what the letters stood for.
“Butler Divinity Mission~Ministry of the Divine Blood.”
Beneath the letters, three red drops were depicted falling into a cup from one tip of a golden crescent moon.
The beams of flashlights cut through the darkness by the cabins. Two young men wearing heavy belts and holsters containing pistols were making their security rounds. Shining the lights into every dark corner, they worked their way up and down between the cabins, checking the showers as they went. With a gesture at his partner, one of them led the way into the woods toward the path that defined the perimeter of the camp. In half an hour, they would be back doing the same round again, and again, until the time came.
~~~~
Exhaustion had set in hours earlier, and Lauren Wells found herself fading in and out of consciousness. She was somewhat surprised that they hadn’t already killed her. Perhaps they figured she’d just die on her own and save them the trouble. One thing she was sure of, no one would ever see or hear of her again.
She’d known what was coming the moment she saw the crescent moon in the van. There was no escaping them. She’d tipped over her bag on the floor at her feet, hoping to find something to use as a weapon, but she had nothing. As she replaced the items, she’d pushed a receipt under a seat, but that wouldn’t help her much. She might as well have put a message in a bottle. One of the ruffians had moved next to her soon after that, and they’d overpowered her as the driver pulled the van off the road. If she’d been fifteen years younger, she thought, she would have given them a much better fight.
After taking her glasses, they taped her hands and feet and mouth with duct tape and covered her with a sleeping bag on the floor. Then they’d driven for quite some time. She knew the moment they left the main road. The jarring left her bruised and sore, and by the time they carried her from the van into a cabin, she could barely hold her head upright.
The cabin was pitch black and the bunk they’d laid her on smelled musty and old. She had no idea what time it was. She was dreadfully thirsty, her head ached, and her bladder was about to burst.
When a door creaked open in another room, she wasn’t sure if she was awake or dreaming. Trying to focus on the sound, Lauren was nearly blinded by the light that flooded the room when several people entered.
She struggled but was unable to sit up in the bunk. There was no feeling left in her bound arms and feet. She tried to breathe through her nose and made a muffled noise as she looked in panic at the group.
“This is no way to greet an honored guest,” the man standing in the center said gently. “Remove the tape that binds her.”
The voice was one she’d heard before. She tried to focus on him. Tapes were cut off her wrists and feet. The one pulling away from her mouth left her gasping for air.
“Welcome back, Lauren.” The voice was tranquil. Strong fingers touched her forehead, moved to rest on her head. The warmth seeping through the man’s hand gave her a familiar jolt.
Lauren looked up and tried to focus on the face that had separated itself from the others. The light of the room made him look pale. His hair was thinning on top. The eyes were puffy and had dark bags under them. But the blue stare was the same.
“Ty?” she asked uneasily. “Brother Ty?”
“It’s Father Ty now, Lauren,” he said softly. “And yes, you’ve come back to us again.”
“Us?” she whispered, blinking at the man, trying to distinguish between sleep and reality.
This was the only name she knew the man by. He was one of Michael Butler’s ministers, one of the top lieutenants in the organization, when she went to the Butler Divinity Mission twenty-two years ago. He’d been the one to meet her at the office in Albuquerque when she first arrived in New Mexico. He’d personally taken her out to the compound in the desert.
Lauren Wells had gone to take her daughter and grandson back home with her to Indiana. Debbie had gone there with the idea that Reverend Butler’s mission was a safe place for runaways and abused wives and children, for people who had no one to protect them and take care of them. Everyone thought so. Sixteen years old and six months pregnant, Lauren’s daughter had run away from home and her abusive father. It had taken Lauren a divorce from Debbie’s father and almost two years of constant searching before she’d found her daughter and grandson at the Butler Mission. Once there, though, she’d soon realized that leaving was not an option.
“Yes, you’re back with us. With your brothers and sisters.”
“There was no us left after Reverend Butler was done,” Lauren said bitterly, the memory of her last hour at the mission still vivid in her mind.
She had stolen a set of keys to one of the cars. Everyone knew something horrible was going to happen that night. They’d been rehearsing it for days. But Debbie wouldn’t leave with her, so Lauren had taken her grandson instead. The toddler had come to her with open arms. Then, when another young mother realized what Lauren was doing, she had pushed her baby daughter into Lauren’s arms. That was Sydney, less than a year old. William was fourteen at the time and wiry as a starving rat. The state of New Mexico had put him there only three weeks earlier, and he didn’t like the looks of things. The talk going around was that this was the end of the line, and he wasn’t buying it. He was in the station wagon and waiting before Lauren got there. The last one had been Kelly, with her large green eyes. She looked as delicate as an angel. She’d stood there beside the car and in the tiniest voice had whispered to her.
Please take me. Don’t leave me.
Lauren glared accusingly at the self-styled Father Ty, who had obviously taken on the mantle of his predecessor. “The only us left after that massacre were the innocent children who escaped twenty-two years ago. But someone killed Sydney. And then they killed William. Those were no accidents…I know that. It was you. You and your people!”
He sat next to her on the cot. His smile was false and cold. “You’re tired. Hysterical. You’ve forgotten that our mission is not about taking lives but directing them to a higher level—to an eternal one.”
He wasn’t denying her accusation. She inched away from him on the cot. “You’re sounding as crazy as Reverend Butler did before he died.”
“Lauren, you’ve never been able to live past the guilt you bear for robbing your grandson of the gift of eternal peace. You stole him away from his chance at timeless bliss. It’s very sad that he had to die at your hand in that car accident.” His fingers came to rest on her shoulder, but she pushed his hand away. “Debbie, however, has moved on. And now she’s waiting for you and for the rest of us to join her.”
“You’re talking nonsense.”
“I’m promising you the chance to make peace with your daughter. She’s ready to forgive and forget. This is the moment of our Khumba Luxor. This is the time that God has aligned Saturn and the Sun and the Moon. The government is bent to destroy us, but this is the opening of the path for us, the true believers. This is our moment to follow those who went before. That’s why you’re here.”
“I’m here because your people tricked me and abducted me at the bus stop. I came to New Hampshire to warn Kelly that Sydney and William are dead, and I’m too old to believe in coincidences. ” She cringed and moved off the cot when he tried to touch her. Her legs barely held her and she stumbled, her shoulder striking a wall.
“Sydney and William were both given a chance,” he replied. “They were once the children of the Mission, like the rest of us here, like all those who are arriving here this weekend. They could have joined us. But they turned their backs on us. They joined forces with our enemies. They threatened to expose us, so they had to face the consequences.”
“You’re a hypocrite. If you believed in all of this nonsense, then you should have killed yourself with the rest of them. But no, you ran away.” She pointed a finger at him. “You’re a coward…and a thief. No one ever found even half of the funds the Mission had been collecting. Don’t you think everyone knows that you took that money?”
He came abruptly to his feet. The chilling smile was still painted on his face. “Lauren, Debbie is not the only one who forgives you. We forgive, too. All of us.” He made a sweeping motion at the handful of people standing behind him.
