by Jan Coffey
That had been his way of thinking, anyway, before being introduced to the joys of finger-painting with Jade. Now he thought maybe he was really meant for a career in art.
“You have to do the green next,” the little girl instructed, pointing to the paints Kelly had poured into saucer-shaped plastic dishes. Ian now understood Kelly’s wisdom in bringing everything out on a battered old kitchen tray and setting them up at one of the picnic benches. The bench she’d picked was an older one that had been moved to the edge of the parking area. It was in a spot that was sheltered from the wind but still caught the last rays of sun. She had also dragged the end of the hose out, leaving it next to them.
She’s done this before, Ian thought, eyeing the green paint.
The three of them had eaten an early dinner. The guests who were back at the inn were being served now. Kelly had left the dining room duty tonight to Rita and had locked herself in her office to make some calls. Ian thought he’d succeeded in convincing her that she had to leave the inn, at least for a few days. She just needed to stay out of harm’s way until Monday was behind them.
Kelly had told him that she would contact some friends she’d stayed in touch with in New York. One of them was Dan’s mother. The college kid was the only one in this entire place that she trusted. He was the only one that she’d hired herself.
She’d promised to be ready to leave tomorrow morning. And Ian would make sure that she got out of here safely…before the madness started.
“Green, Ian,” Jade said, prompting him.
The large poster board they were working on was a masterpiece of color already. Ian looked down at his hands. One was yellow. The other one was dripping with blue.
“I’m going to make my own green.” He rubbed his hands together and showed her the results.
“That’s no good. Use this one,” Jade directed as she dipped her finger into the paint and held it up in front of his nose. “See? This green.”
She was holding the finger too close to his face for him to focus on, and Ian didn’t miss the puckish look that crept into her face. She had paint in her hair and on her face and all over her clothing. Other than his hands, so far, he’d managed to stay clean.
He caught her hand just before she had a chance to smear it on his face.
“Arm wrestling with a three-year-old,” Kelly scolded, coming across the parking area.
“She’s almost four,” Ian argued.
“Well, that’s okay, then.”
“Look at her. The little imp is a royal mess.” He backed away when Jade tried to put her other hand on his shirt. “How many times a day do you have to change her clothes?”
“This will be her third change today. That’s actually a pretty good day.”
“Green!” Jade shouted, not giving up wrestling with him as she complained to her mother. “Show it to him, Mommy.”
Kelly dipped the tip of her finger in the paint and held it up. “This one?”
“Yeah,” Jade said excitedly.
Ian let go of the child but couldn’t get his hands on Kelly before she dabbed the paint on his chin.
“That does it.” He grabbed her by the waist, but like her daughter she seemed to have six extra hands. The paint was flying at him from every direction.
He got up from the bench, carrying Kelly away from her source of ammunition. Jade, however, was an excellent markswoman and didn’t think twice about picking up the tray of paints and winging it at the two adults.
Using Kelly as a human shield worked. The blue and yellow and red hit her on the back of the pants and T-shirt, and as Ian turned her around in his arms, the green saucer connected, as well, leaving a bulls-eye on her chest.
“I can’t believe this.” Her arms stretched out to the side, she looked down at the colorful mess she’d become.
Ian let go of her and stepped back. Jade, standing only three steps away, started giggling. “We painted Mommy.”
“You little paint pixie,” Kelly growled, chasing after her daughter for a couple of steps. Jade screeched in delight and went around the table. She swung around toward Ian. “How could you let her do this to me? Look at me.”
She was more relaxed than Ian had seen her since arriving at the inn. She also looked damn cute covered with all that paint.
“Hey, we were having a quiet, civilized time together. You started the trouble.”
“I started the trouble?” She took a threatening step toward him.
Ian didn’t back away. He stared at the green paint on the front of her T-shirt. For a few mad seconds he imagined how interesting it would be to take off those clothes and smear the rest of that paint over her naked body.
“I think it’s only fair that you should get some of this, too,” Kelly said, coming closer. “How about it, Ian? Just a little hug?”
She didn’t have to ask twice. Reaching out, he took a fistful of her shirt and pulled her toward him hard enough that she fell into his arms. He kissed her lips before she could voice a complaint. His hands were on her back and bottom and on her neck and into her hair, and he could feel the paint on his fingers. A soft moan escaped her throat, and she rose up on her toes and wrapped her arms around him, answering the kiss with so much passion that he lost all interest in where they were and who was their audience.
“Me, too.”
Jade’s voice knocked them apart abruptly. Kelly’s face reddened with embarrassment. Ian scooped Jade up into his arms.
“None of this ‘me, too’ stuff,” he told the little girl. You started all of this, you little monkey.”
“So? I want a hug, too.” Not waiting for him, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tight.
Ian’s throat knotted up. He pressed the child’s head against his shoulder. His gaze and Kelly’s locked. She reached up and touched his cheek before hugging him, too, with Jade sandwiched between them.
“Did you make the call?” he asked her softly.
She nodded. “We’re all set.” She placed a kiss on his lips.
A car coming down the gravel driveway made Kelly pull away and look back. Ian recognized the driver. He was annoyed when Shawn Hobart saw them and immediately pulled in close to their picnic table, kicking up dust as he skidded to a stop.
When Jade saw who was driving, she tried to crawl higher on Ian’s chest. He handed the child to Kelly and stepped in front of them.
“You’re asking for trouble, coming this close,” Ian told him as he got out of the car. Hobart hung a small leather bag over one shoulder.
“Yeah, well, I’ll be watching that there’s no paint spatter on this finish.”
“We’re not making any promises.”
Hobart nodded to Kelly. “I hope I’m not late for dinner. Your front desk warned me this morning of the change of the hours for dinner.”
“You’re cutting it close, but we won’t let you starve, Mr. Hobart,” Kelly said politely. “I’m sure Wilson can scrape together something for you in the kitchen.”
Turning her back on the man, she began to clean up the mess they’d made. Sundown was approaching fast. The shadows were getting longer, and the air was getting cooler.
“So how are things across the way?” Ian asked, openly inspecting the mud on the tires and the fenders of Hobart’s car.
“Across the way?”
“At the camp.” Ian motioned with his head. “I stopped over there this morning. A very impressive set-up. I had a chance to chat with Joshua Sharpe, and then Caleb showed me around. A lot of people seem to be showing up. And it’s good that they have a list. It makes sense to know who’s supposed to be there, and who’s not. So what’s your function? Are you one of the ministers or just a member of the congregation?”
Color rose on the man’s neck. He moved his bag from one shoulder to the other.
“I’m just here as part of our church retreat,” he finally said in a gruff voice.
“A member of the congregation, then?”
“You could say
that.”
“They invited me over for some of the sermons,” Ian lied. “But I forgot to ask the names of some of the guest speakers.”
“I don’t know anything about that.” Hobart made a big production of locking the car. “Got to get some dinner.”
“When are you going back over?”
The older man’s expression darkened with annoyance. He glanced at Kelly. “I didn’t know I had to report in to other guests.”
“I was only going to ask you to pick me up a schedule of the activities and the speakers,” Ian said. “But I wouldn’t want to put you out.”
“I’ll see if I can get you a schedule tomorrow,” Hobart grumbled as he walked past them and proceeded toward the inn.
Chapter 16
Kelly couldn’t take a suitcase or any kind of carrying bag that would bring attention to what she and Jade were planning to do. She looked around at a room full of memories, knowing she had to leave it all behind—for now, at least. The very few photographs she dared put in her handbag would have to be selected after her daughter was asleep.
Ian’s suggestion was for the mother and daughter to walk out of the inn tomorrow morning and get in their car, pretending to go and do some routine chore—going to church or visiting one of Jade’s friends or something like that. They didn’t want to raise any suspicions, at all. Kelly didn’t want to tell him how bitter and fearful she’d become about religion, after her early upbringing. She definitely didn’t have the heart to tell him that Jade had no friends. And she couldn’t bring herself to admit to him what a huge effect his presence was having on both of their lives.
“Is Ian going to tuck me in tonight, too?” Jade asked from her bed.
“He had some things to do, but I saw him give you a hug before he went downstairs.” She rolled up the old yellow blanket and put it next to Jade on the bed.
“I know.” The little girl sighed dramatically, cuddling with her favorite blanket.
Kelly pushed a strand of damp hair out of Jade’s face. It had taken some hard work to wash Jade’s hair and scrub every bit of paint off her face and hands. Both of them were finally squeaky clean. And both of them were dealing with unexpected feelings for the same man.
“Will you stay up here, Mommy?” Jade asked in a little voice when Kelly turned off the bedside light.
“Yes, honey. I’ll be right outside the door, doing some grown-up reading.”
“Love you,” she whispered, closing her eyes.
“Love you, too.” Kelly whispered back, brushing a kiss over her daughter’s forehead.
She had to get up from the edge of the bed, had to tiptoe away, before the tears came. She was an emotional tumbleweed right now, and there was no telling what direction the breeze would roll her tonight.
Downstairs earlier, she’d struggled but had been barely successful at remaining civil with Janice. As the guests were finishing dinner, she’d told the older woman that she was going up early and the rest of them could take care of locking up for the night. Kelly hadn’t said so, but the thought ran through her head that they were in control, anyway.
Kelly wasn’t sure when this mess had started. She wasn’t sure how many years her life had been a lie. She’d always thought she had escaped the Mission, but she now wondered how completely the strands of Michael Butler’s vile web ran through her life. Could it be that everyone, every chapter of her life, had somehow been a part of it?
She wasn’t going to stay here to find out. Not with Jade at risk. She knew what these people were capable of. She’d move her clear across the country, if need be. Out of the country, even.
Kelly walked to the sitting area.
She’d been able to connect with Sally Davies, Dan’s mother today. After saying that she and her daughter were going to be in New York City for three or four days, Kelly had needed no other reason for coming. Sally had insisted that they stay with her.
If they didn’t know she was running away, then they wouldn’t come after her, Kelly reasoned, walking into Ian’s room and taking the file with all the information off his dresser. Her worry was not about how to get from here to there safely, but how to deal with Ian staying behind.
Kelly went back to the sitting area on the landing and sat down, opening the files on her lap. The obituaries were on top. Brother Ty’s…or rather Father Ty’s new army of believers could obviously commit murder, and she was terrified at the thought that Ian could be hurt, even killed. At least she had the peace of mind of knowing that Ian was a policeman. He was trained and capable, and he knew better than anyone what he was facing.
Old attachments were difficult to break, Kelly thought, thumbing through the rest of the information in the thick file. Toward the bottom of the pile, she came across a copy of an article that she hadn’t seen before. The piece was dated one year after the Butler Mission suicide. She looked at the picture of the woman on the first page. Anne Campbell. Kelly remembered her because she was an outsider. She was young, beautiful, full of life. She tore her gaze away from the picture and read the headline.
Social Worker Was a Cult Member.
Kelly scanned the article. The investigation following the mass suicide had concluded that Anne Campbell’s presence at the Mission compound that night was voluntary, and that the twenty-two year old social worker was a member of the religious sect and a willing participant in the suicide.
Kelly let out a frustrated breath. She understood why Ian had to stay. She knew why he had to find the truth.
~~~~
Ian’s socks were damp and his shoes soggy. Dropping a pillowcase containing other clothes on the picnic bench, he gathered up the wet items and stuffed them into the makeshift laundry bag as he surreptitiously studied the cottage closest to him.
This was where Dan was staying, and it was the first time he’d seen the door left ajar. He looked back toward the house. Daylight was quickly fading, and the shadows of the trees covered the area around him. A few minutes ago, when he’d been coming down the back stairs, he’d heard Dan and Wilson arguing in the kitchen. The cook had been ripping into the kid about not washing the floor under one of the food prep tables, and Dan had returned a few choice words in response to being called back to the kitchen to repeat a perfectly satisfactory job.
Ian walked to the cottage door and slipped inside. A bedside light had been left on, and he had a clear view of the entire place. The first impression that struck him was how clean the place was. No clothes tossed on any chair or on the floor. No leftover food composting on the table. No beer cans decoratively stacked on the windowsills. No piles of magazines sporting covers of athletes or musicians or buxom models. The guy was certainly not fitting the profile of what Ian thought most college kids were like these days. Dan’s living quarters definitely did not match the image Ian had in his head.
He could see an oversized bag and a black suitcase stuffed under the bed. He eyed a backpack that had been left on the bed. On a dresser next to him, the kid’s wallet and watch and some change caught his eye.
Ian flipped open the wallet. Dan’s New York license—picture and address—matched what and who he claimed to be. Ian picked up the watch and glanced at the back.
Congratulations, Ed.
Love, Mom & Dad
Ian heard the footsteps outside and turned the watch over in his hand.
“What are you doing in here?” Dan asked, clearly annoyed as he marched into the cottage.
“Admiring your watch,” Ian said, tossing it to the younger man. Dan quickly strapped it on. “High school graduation present?”
“Yeah, something like that. What do you want?” He pocketed his wallet and looked around the room before grabbing a windbreaker that was hanging from a peg on the wall.
“I’m looking for a laundry machine,” Ian replied, motioning to the pillowcase filled with clothes at his feet. “I definitely underestimated how much clothes I needed when I packed.”
“There’s a washer and dryer in the basement of the i
nn,” Dan said, grabbing his backpack and ushering Ian toward the door. “The door across the hall from the kitchen. You can’t miss it.”
Outside, Ian stood around as Dan made a point of locking the door of his cottage. “Hot date?”
“How did you guess?” The young man gave him a long look before running off into the darkness in the direction of the parking lot.
Ian stayed where he was for a minute or two. No cars left the parking area. He knew that Dan didn’t have his own wheels up here, and he wondered if the kid was traveling on foot...and where.
The dining room lights were out. Going back to the inn, Ian noticed that Victor Desposito’s rental truck was not back yet. Wilson Blade’s car was already gone.
Nobody had locked the door. Ian poked his head into the kitchen, where the lights were turned off. The door across the way, which he assumed led to the basement, was ajar. Ian opened it further and saw a light burning below, where someone was moving boxes or something around. Reaching around, he unsnapped the strap of his pistol holster.
“Hello,” he called. “Someone down here?”
The noise stopped. He moved down a few steps and crouched low when he had a good view. The dank smell of basement and a distinct odor of mice filtered into his nostrils as he surveyed the area. Washer. Dryer. Shelves above them filled with detergents and things. A slate laundry sink on one end. In the center of an adjoining alcove, a giant furnace and a pair of huge water heaters sat at the ready. A large table, probably used for folding laundry sat in the middle of the space, and a fluorescent light overhead buzzed and flickered every couple of seconds.
