by Jan Coffey
Ian knew things were not always that simple, but he let it go and walked past Caleb into the cabin.
~~~~
A bright red pick-up sped into the lot and Special Agent Ed Dershiwitz of the FBI’s Boston Field Office switched the phone to his other ear. Turning, he glared as the vehicle skidded to a stop in one of the convenience store’s parking spaces. His SAC was presently in Concord, coordinating the last stages of the operation.
“Listen, Ed. I talked to O’Hara in the Attorney General’s office an hour ago. We can’t get the warrant to go in there until we know for sure he’s there.”
“They’re armed, damn it,” Ed said thinly into the phone. “Automatic weapons, assault rifles, bulletproof vests, explosives, the whole nine yards. I saw them. They were keeping everything in the two cottages at the inn. He may or may not simply be sending the faithful on to their reward. There could be more here, and those weapons are reason enough for us to go in.”
“Ed, you’re not hearing me. O’Hara will not produce the warrant until we know Tyler Somers is there.”
“We might be dealing with kidnapping, too. The old woman, Lauren Wells, was heading this way. Now she’s missing.”
“We already know that. Had a couple of calls on it. The locals are keeping their eyes open for her.”
“She might still be alive. If we go in now, we can get her out.”
“No one has seen her. We don’t know if she’s there any more than we know if Somers is there.”
“Jesus Christ!”
“You listen to me. You’re not the Special Agent in Charge here, I am. We have an objective that we will accomplish.”
“But we can get her out alive if—”
“We can get over a hundred fifty people out alive if we wait until Monday morning,” the SAC snapped. “Our sources say that’s when he’s going to show up.”
Ed held the phone down by his leg, trying to regain his temper. When he raised it to his ear, his commander was still talking.
“…chasing this slimy bastard for over twenty years. If we don’t get our hands on Tyler Somers this time, every whacko in America will figure he can pull this shit any time there’s a full moon. This is the first time that we know for sure he’s showing his face.”
Ed shook his head and looked in the back of Bill’s truck. The groceries he’d picked up for Wilson sat lined up in a dozen brown bags. “Did you get anything else on Campbell?”
“Yeah.” Ed heard the papers rustling through the wire. “He’s on his own. Completely. He was offered a promotion with the San Diego force last month, but he said no. Just threw it in their faces and walked out, taking a personal leave. If you think he’s a loose cannon, we can take him out of there.”
“Not yet. It’s okay having him around, so long as he doesn’t get in the way.” Ed reached over the side of the truck and touched the five-gallon tub of ice cream in the first bag. It was getting soft. “I’ve got to get back. I’ve got to put my Dan hat on and get back to work.”
“We’re planning to move at first light on Monday. We’ll rendezvous at the mile marker on the state road.”
“Right.”
“And Ed…Dan, let us know if you see him sooner. I can have that warrant in an hour.”
~~~~
Ken and Ash were not done with their photo shoot, so Bill offered to take Ian back to the inn and then come back for the other two.
On the ride back, Ian found the old man to be very pleasant, willing to answer any questions and to offer advice, solicited or unsolicited. He was surprised that the two of them got along so well. When they got back to the inn, Ian went looking for Kelly.
“Is there anything I can help you with?” Janice said, appearing out of nowhere behind him as soon as he poked his head inside the empty office.
“No, I need to talk to Kelly.”
“She’s very busy this morning,” Janice said tartly. “If you have any questions about the menu today, we’ll be starting to serve lunch in another fifteen minutes. The menu is already on the board. Also, dinner will be early tonight. The entrees—”
“I’m looking for Kelly,” he repeated, looking beyond the pink glasses and white hair toward the deck. The Meadows couple was there, sitting in a pair of Adirondack chairs. By the lake, he could see the Stern boys pushing a canoe into the water.
“If there is a problem with the room—”
“No problem. Thanks for your help,” he said as pleasantly as he could muster before heading for the stairs. She wasn’t in the office, she didn’t look to be on the deck or by the lake, and Bill had her car, so she had to be here. He hoped that she was up in her apartment with Jade.
Ian wished he had better news for her about Lauren. Still, he needed to talk to her about a few things he’d noticed at the camp. There was no one on the second floor. He took the back staircase two at a time and was surprised to find Kelly sitting in the rocking chair on the landing at the top, waiting for him.
Her face was somewhat flushed. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and he decided she’d been crying. The brisk rocking of chair blades on the wooden floor spoke volumes about her nerves.
“What’s wrong?” Ian asked, immediately looking for Jade. He glanced in through the open door of the apartment and saw the little girl sitting on the floor between the two beds, deeply into a giant floor puzzle. His gaze moved back to Kelly, and he felt a twist in his gut as a tear rolled down her cheek. “What’s going on?”
“Do you have something to tell me?” she asked quietly.
Ian looked into her pained face as the chair continued to rock. She rubbed her hands up and down her arms as if she couldn’t get warm. He looked around her and saw the laptop sitting open on the floor by her feet.
“The Internet’s a wonderful thing,” he said finally.
“It’s not the Internet. I’ve kept files,” she said. He could hear the note of temper edging into her voice. “And I’ve been looking up a few things.”
“Like me.”
“Like you.”
He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Kelly, I—”
“What are you doing here? What do you want from us, Detective Campbell?” she asked bitterly.
“I don’t want anything from you,” he returned, matching her tone. “I’m here to protect you.”
“Protect me? Who are you protecting us from…you, yourself?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
She pushed herself to her feet so fast that the chair continued to rock madly on its own. “I had nothing to do with what happened at the Mission. I was twelve years old. I didn’t know all of them would actually kill themselves.”
“I don’t blame you.”
“I don’t know why your wife stayed that night. I’m sorry that she did. I’m sorry that you suffered…that you had to be the one who walked in there and found her…found the rest of them. The whole thing was so unfair. Life is unfair. But I was a kid. I…It wasn’t my fault. I couldn’t stop them even if I’d stayed. I just had to go, and that was my chance. I couldn’t take it anymore. I begged Lauren to take me. I was scared. I was so…scared.”
Ian closed the distance between them and drew her into his arms. She was crying softly, shaking uncontrollably. He pressed Kelly’s face against his chest and held her tight. He caressed her back, pressed a kiss into her hair. He understood what guilt felt like. The guilt of surviving loved ones. He’d lived with it for the past twenty-two years. That Mission was in his territory. He’d let his own wife walk in there. He’d let her die. He hadn’t even seen it coming.
“Is Mommy okay?”
His own vision was blurred. He saw Jade standing in the doorway of the apartment, one bare foot rubbing on top of the other. Green eyes gazed up with great concern at the two of them. Ian nodded, unwilling to trust his voice. Kelly pulled herself out of his arms. She turned to her daughter and crouched before her.
“I’m okay, honey.” Her voice still quavered. “Why don’t you go and
finish your puzzle? I’ll be right here if you need me.”
“Do you need a Band-Aid?” the little girl asked, touching the tears that continued to fall down Kelly’s cheeks.
She shook her head. “Not now. But why don’t you save one for me for later.”
“Will you tell me when it’s later?” Jade asked, caressing her mother’s hair.
Kelly pulled her into a tight embrace before letting go. “I sure will.”
Jade looked up at Ian as she backed toward the door. “I have boy Band-Aids, too, if you want one.”
“Thanks.” He cleared his voice, smiling. “I’ll take one later, too.”
The intercom in the apartment buzzed. Following Jade in, Kelly answered it. It was Janice.
“We could use your help serving lunch, Kelly.”
Thoughts of strangling the old woman ran through Ian’s head.
“You’ll have to do without me.” Kelly said shortly. “And Janice, I don’t care what happens, please just handle it.” She turned off the unit completely and turned to Ian. “We need to talk.”
He couldn’t agree more.
“Wait here.” She went down the stairs. He heard her close the door at the bottom. She came back up a few seconds later. “I don’t want any more interruptions.”
“We can talk in my room,” he said, motioning toward the closed door. “There are a few things there that I need to show you.”
She wiped her face with the back of one hand and nodded, following him across the sitting area. She stopped as she reached the doorway.
Ian pulled his suitcase from under the bed. She was looking back toward her own apartment and Jade. Sitting on the bed, he unlocked and opened the case. He could feel her eyes on him. He knew she would see the gun when he opened the suitcase to get the thick manila folder. It was inevitable. When he looked up at her, she was staring at the pistol, her concern showing in her face.
“I’m an officer of the law. I carry a gun. When I’m not carrying it, I keep the pistol unloaded and under lock and key.”
Her arms crossed. She leaned against the door jamb.
Ian locked the case, put it away, and sat down again on the bed. He opened the folder on his lap. “Why don’t you come and sit down.”
“Why didn’t you tell me who you were when you came?” she asked.
“I did tell you,” he said. “I used my own name, my own address. I even made sure you knew what I did for living. If any of that struck a familiar cord with you, it was okay with me.” He patted the bed next to him. “As far as why I’m here…”
She didn’t move from the doorway. “I’ve never been driven to search for answers. I didn’t dig into what happened. Other than collecting a bunch of information and letting it sit in my computer, I decided somewhere that I’d just as soon forget. Is this something that I should know?”
“Yes, it is,” he said seriously.
Her steps were hesitant, but she came and sat on the edge of the bed, a foot away from him. She tucked her hands between her thighs, watching everything he did. Ian opened the file folder, pulled out a print of an obituary from the San Diego paper, and handed it to her. She stared at it for a couple of seconds, and he knew the moment she made the connection.
“William Bridger…William. That’s him. He left the camp with me. He’s dead?” she asked, going pale and looking up at Ian before turning her attention back to the newspaper obit.
Ian gave her a summary. “Thirty-six years old. Ran a small center that offered day-care service for mentally retarded children. Well liked and respected. Popular with the kids and their families. No wife and kids of his own.”
“This doesn’t say how he died.”
He handed her a second sheet containing a copy of an article about a fatal fire in a day-care center.
“They claim it was an accidental fire at the center,” he said. “A cigarette butt dropped into a trash can. Happened on a late night this past April. He was the only one there, but he couldn’t get out in time for some reason.”
“Was it an accident?”
“You want the police report or my opinion?”
She looked down at the paper again. “San Diego…shouldn’t it be the same?”
“Not in this case,” he said, digging out a write-up of the accident from another paper. “He was a smoker. But he’d supposedly quit last Christmas. Nobody else in that building was a smoker. Not even the custodian. Also, there was something wrong with the lock in the office he was in. He seems to have been stuck in there.”
“Isn’t what you just told me enough to call for a homicide investigation?”
“They investigated, but there was no hard evidence to suspect foul play. Everybody liked him. He was a very down-to-earth guy, apparently. He was not romantically involved with anyone at the time. There were no suspects. No one to point a finger at.” Ian dug into his file again.
“You have something else?” Kelly asked, shivering slightly.
He handed her another obituary. This one was from the Chicago Tribune. She looked at it, already knowing what it would be.
“Sydney Gerhart. Oh my God, this…this is the baby Lauren took out with us. Sydney.” Kelly looked at the black-and-white picture of the young woman that ran with the obituary.
“Twenty-three years old. Graduate student at Northwestern. Shared an apartment on the eighth floor of a high rise with two other girls.” He took out a copy of something that looked like the summary page of a police report of the accident. “She fell off the balcony of her apartment in the middle of the afternoon.”
“An accident?”
“The whole thing is still under investigation. But there are no eyewitnesses, no suspects, no evidence of forced entry into the apartment. Her boyfriend was questioned, but he was in class at the time and there’s nothing that ties him to her death.”
“None of her roommates were at home?”
Ian shook his head. “The investigation is still open only because of the possibility of suicide. But that’s a long shot because there was no note, and she seemed like a well-adjusted young woman.”
Kelly’s chin trembled. Her eyes filled with tears when she looked up at him. “We went our separate ways. None of us knew each other. But in a way, they were like family to me. And now they’re both dead. What’s going on? Are these two deaths related?”
Ian hoped she was ready for what he was going to unload on her.
“I couldn’t just walk in here and tell you or show you these things. You would have thrown me out, not believing any of it.” He took her hand when she tried to pick up a stack of papers. “I believe William and Sydney’s deaths are directly related to what happened at the Butler Mission twenty-two years ago.”
Her hand drew back immediately, as if she’d been burned. Out of reflex, she looked through the open doors for Jade.
“Everyone died,” she whispered, finally looking back at him. “Father Mi…Reverend Butler died.”
“Only those who were at the Mission that night died,” Ian said, forcing himself not to see in his mind again what he witnessed so many years ago. He picked up a stack of papers and flipped through the first pages until he found what he was looking for. “Tyler Somers. This is a DMV photo. It dates back to before he left the Mission. Do you remember him?”
Kelly leaned close enough to look. “Brother Ty. He was really close to Father Mike. He worked in the office a lot. He was the front person. In a way, he was our contact with the outside world. He answered all the questions from the families of people who were at the Mission. He left the same month that…everything happened. I don’t know where he went.”
“Michael Butler was too wrapped up in his end-of-the-world routine to bother with filing any charges. But what showed up after the cult suicide was that Somers had practically emptied the bank accounts on his way out.”
“I don’t think there was much to take, anyway. We were pretty poor.”
He shook his head. “The families living there thought they
were poor. Michael Butler had a mailing list of over two hundred thousand people that he sent a letter and contribution envelope to twice a year. He appealed to people’s generosity to help him care for the runaway and abused young mothers and children who showed up every day at his door with nowhere else to go. He had a pretty convincing package, and he was able to hook in even a few major contributors.”
“How much did Ty Somers take?”
He shook his head. “I don’t know, but I am sure the FBI agents who’ve been chasing him for all these years can tell you.”
“So you’re not working for someone else. You’re not acting on behalf of some government agency? You’ve done all this investigating on your own?”
Tell her only the truth, Ian reminded himself. He’d traveled all the way across the country to find her, and it looked as though he’d gotten here on time. He didn’t want to lose this second chance to find out what happened. To find out why.
“I couldn’t let go,” he started. “I lost my wife twenty-two years ago. In the wake of that, I lost my faith in my own judgment. Worst of all, I missed out on the chance to ask the questions that were driving me crazy. Questions about the cult, about Butler. About Anne. I needed to know if Anne’s death was a suicide or a murder. But I couldn’t find any answers.”
He took a deep breath and continued. “Moving away—going from New Mexico to California—should have helped. I was no longer living in the middle of all the memories. But I found I still couldn’t let go. So I started keeping track of things. Like a hobby. I started collecting anything and everything new and old about the Butler Divinity Mission.”
“I did the same thing, but it was only for a short time” Kelly told him. “That was how I had copies of articles about you in my laptop. I stopped collecting them when I got married, and then, after Jade was born, I couldn’t move far enough away from it.”
“She’s a great kid. You’ve done a great job raising her.”
Kelly’s expression softened. “She’s very special. What she’s done to me here—” she touched her heart, “—is to make me feel more than I have ever felt for another human being. The love I feel for her is more than I ever felt for my husband, or for my adoptive parents, either.” She looked down at the papers on the bed. “But I’ve been so scared lately. I’ve lain awake at night, worrying that something might happen, and I wouldn’t be able to protect her. And now, you’re showing me all of this.”
