by Nancy Mehl
“It didn’t stay that way for long,” Mike said. “Alex cleaned up that mess and kept it clean. She did all the housework and cooking. It was like she was the grown-up and Willow was the kid.”
“Do you have any idea what we’re going to find when we knock on her door, Alex?” Logan asked.
“I assume everything will be as it was before I lived there. Willow didn’t have any desire to be an adult.”
“How do you think she’ll receive you?” Mike asked.
“I really have no idea. She used to tell me she loved me, and in her own way, I think she did. But she never really took care of me. I mean, she gave me a room to sleep in and provided for my basic needs. Of course, she had only a disability check, so all my clothes were secondhand. And if I wanted anything besides food or clothing, I had to buy it myself.”
“My mom hired Alex to help around our house,” Mike said. “And she passed my sister’s clothes along to her.”
Alex smiled. “Yes, your mother was good to me,” she said. “She was more of a mother than Willow ever was. How is your mom?” She leaned toward him. “Does she still live in the same house?”
“She’s fine, and, no, she’s moved. Dad was killed not long after you left. Car accident.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. Anyway, once my sister and I were out on our own, Mom stayed in the house alone for a while. But a few years ago, she relocated to a senior-living apartment complex. She’s really happy there. I’d like to tell her you’re in town, but I was told to keep this assignment under the radar. I wish you could visit her. She’d love that.”
“I would enjoy that too. But that will have to be a different trip. No time for anything besides getting The Book to the FBI lab.”
“Of course you’re right,” Mike said. “Maybe I could contact you when this is all over and see if you can come back for a visit.”
Alex didn’t say anything as she turned her head toward the passenger side window. Logan wondered if she really would come back to Wichita to see Mike’s mother. Alex was a loner. Yeah, she good-naturedly worked with other agents, but she rarely accepted an invitation to nonwork events. Many times she’d say she had to get home to her dog.
“Mike mentioned your aunt had cats. You have a dog, right?” Logan asked. “What do you do with him when you go out of town?”
“My neighbors take care of him.”
“I can’t remember his name.”
“Krypto. I named him after Superman’s dog.”
Logan couldn’t help but wonder why she’d chosen that name. Did she identify with Superman—someone who couldn’t be hurt?
“It’s great you have neighbors who will watch him,” Mike said.
She nodded. “Yeah, it is. They have kids who like playing with him. Sometimes I wonder if he would be happier with them.” She paused for a moment before saying, “But I need him in my life. And the truth is he’s really attached to me. Thinks he’s my protector, I guess. It’s a miracle he gets along with the other people as well as he does.”
Was there a hint of jealousy there? Or was it fear?
“This is it,” Mike said, slowing the car to a crawl.
Logan looked around. Not the best neighborhood. Lots of older homes, but for the most part the properties were well-kept.
Mike pointed to his left, at a large two-story house painted white with yellow accents. “That’s where we used to live.”
Logan turned to see Alex staring at a different house on that side of the street. He was shocked to see that her face had gone completely white.
6
Alex felt her throat close, as if fingers of fear had grabbed her and were trying to choke the life out of her.
Stop it! Remember who you are. You don’t have to be afraid of that crazy woman. She’s just the means to an end. You’re here to get that book, then you’ll never have to see her again.
Mike pulled the car over to the curb. “If you can’t get her to give you The Book, we’ll have to call in help to search her house.” He leaned over and took some papers from the glove box. “Here’s the warrant and the release document.”
Alex took them and slipped them into the inside pockets of her jacket.
“Are you sure you want me to wait out here?” Logan asked.
“Yes. She’ll shut down if you’re with me.”
Even as Alex said the words, she wasn’t sure they were true. Maybe the fear wrapping itself around her was caused by her concern Logan would see her as vulnerable if he came inside. If he saw the conditions she grew up in, would he feel sorry for her? She hated pity from anyone. She hated self-pity even more. Alex steeled herself to get out of the car and knock on her aunt’s door.
“Give me a little time,” she said. “I can’t just walk in and ask for The Book. I have to put her at ease first.” She placed her hand on Mike’s shoulder. “Please don’t park any closer. I don’t want her to see you two out here.”
“Okay. But no kidding, Alex. If you need help, you call us right away.”
“You know my aunt. She might be crazy, but she’s not dangerous.” As soon as she’d finished speaking, the memory she’d recovered popped into her mind again. It made her feel cold inside. How could she have forgotten that for so many years?
“Except someone associated with her might be planning to kill a lot of people. This is different.”
“Mike is right,” Logan said. “Fifteen minutes, Alex, or the house will have to be searched. We don’t have a lot of time for her to get comfortable.”
Although she didn’t like what Logan said, the agent in her knew he was right. They didn’t have time to play games.
“Okay.” Without another word, she got out of the car, then walked slowly across the street. Even though she didn’t want Mike or Logan to go with her, at that moment she felt completely alone. Almost as lonely as she had when she’d lived in this house.
The November wind suddenly whipped past her, causing her to pull her jacket tighter. It might have helped her body to feel warmer, but it didn’t do anything to abate the icy fear in her soul.
Adam sat in the diner, watching the people around him. Three women were laughing and talking two booths away from him, probably making fun of someone. Like other students had made fun of him when he was in college. At a table across from him, tired-looking parents with a small child and a baby ate silently, hushing the toddler several times. When the baby began to cry, the mother reached for a diaper bag. She took out a bottle and stuck it in the baby’s mouth. He could tell by her pleading expression that she was embarrassed by her children, yet she hoped they wouldn’t have to leave. The father just looked disgusted, as if the baby’s cries were somehow his wife’s fault.
His gaze shifted to an irritated man who spoke loudly to a waitress as he pointed at his plate. From what Adam could hear, he was livid because his hamburger was pink in the middle. “I asked for well done,” he was saying. “Does your cook even know what well done means?”
Without saying a word, the weary waitress picked up his plate and walked off. Adam smiled to himself. He was pretty certain either the waitress or the cook would add something special to the man’s burger. Something he didn’t want.
Adam sighed. No one here was worth saving. In fact, no one in the whole world was worth saving except his family. These beings didn’t know if they were angels or demons, and they didn’t care. That made them useless for the Master’s plan—the plan straight from the book he’d embraced with his whole heart. Why had he hated it when he was a kid? Probably because his mother was the one who first read it to him. Not his father.
He grimaced to himself. Getting rid of so many of these cockroaches would actually be a blessing. The Book prophesied that those who remained would rule the earth together as one. Although all he wanted was to do the Master’s will, he felt a twinge of jealousy. He liked being part of a small, special group that had wisdom kept from the rest of the world. If everyone were as blessed
as he was . . . Well, he didn’t like that idea.
But then he reminded himself that he would always be the one who fulfilled the prophecy. That knowledge made him feel better. He would be revered among everyone who survived the Master’s judgment.
He smiled to himself again, then went back to his notebook, where he continued to write down his plans. It wouldn’t be much longer.
Alex stood in front of Willow’s door, shivering. Just standing there made her feel sick to her stomach. She remembered sitting on these porch steps, crying. Wanting nothing more than to go home. She’d even prayed for help from a God who didn’t answer. She’d asked Him to get her out of this house. But nothing changed, and she’d had to find a way to exist with a deranged woman. If there even was a God, He obviously didn’t care about terrified little girls pleading for help.
She’d also asked Him to make it possible for her to someday become an FBI agent. Her dream of working for the Bureau had come to pass, yes. But she’d made it on her own. Without anyone’s help.
With effort that took everything she had, she pushed the ghosts of the past into the dark chasm where she valiantly tried to keep them imprisoned. Her arm felt like lead when she lifted it and knocked on the door. She could hear noises from inside, and she expected to see her aunt swing the door open. But instead, another woman did. She looked to be in her sixties and had curly salt-and-pepper hair, dark eyes, dark skin, and a wide smile on her face.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
Alex was momentarily thrown. The FBI had confirmed that her aunt still lived here. Who was this?
“I’m here to see Willow LeGrand. I’m . . . I’m her niece.”
The woman’s eyes widened. “Alexandra? Oh my goodness. She’ll be so happy to see you.” She pushed the door open wide. “Come on in, honey. Willow’s told me so much about you.”
Alex stepped inside and was shocked to find the living room neat and clean. She’d expected Willow to have let the place go back to the mess it was before she’d moved in. She’d also been afraid entering this house would trigger a reaction she wouldn’t be able to explain. But even the furniture was different. This wasn’t the house she’d lived in.
“Let me have your coat, honey,” the woman said. “I just started a fire in the fireplace. It’s nice and warm in here.”
“That’s okay. I’ll keep it,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to find anyone else here. May I ask who you are?”
The woman had extended her arm for Alex’s coat, and she let it drop. “Oh dear. I’m sorry. You’re right. I should have introduced myself. I’m Nettie Travers. I live here with your aunt.”
“What do you mean you live here?” The words tumbled out before Alex realized she sounded rude.
Rather than look offended, Nettie smiled. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll explain everything. Willow is napping, but after we talk, I’ll wake her up so you two can visit.”
“I don’t have a lot of time,” Alex said. “I’m here on a matter of urgency.”
“Then I don’t suppose you’d like a cup of tea?” Nettie asked.
“No. No tea. Thank you.”
Nettie gestured toward the couch, and Alex sat down. Nettie took a seat in the matching chair next to the couch. Alex was surprised by how nice the furniture was. Not like the secondhand junk her aunt had once owned.
“I’d been living next door to your aunt for a while before she had a stroke. It was three years ago now,” Nettie said. “Some of the neighbors tried to help her, but she needed more care than a few casseroles could provide.” She shrugged. “Although I thought the best thing for her was a nursing home, she wouldn’t leave. No amount of reasoning would change her mind. My Charlie had passed away two years before, so I asked her if she’d like me to move in and care for her.”
She leaned back into her chair. “You see, Charlie was also a stroke victim, and I took care of him for four years before he passed. I felt I had the expertise to help Willow, and she agreed to my suggestion. So I sold my house and moved in. She was living in squalor, Alex. For their sake, I was almost glad all her cats had died by then. I cleaned up, got rid of the furniture, and moved in my own. Hers wasn’t in very good shape.”
“I don’t doubt that.” Alex frowned at her. “But what are you getting out of this?”
Nettie smiled slowly. “Sorry. I thought I’d made that clear. I was lonely. Sitting alone in my house was withering my soul. Now I get to help Willow, and I feel needed. Wanted.”
“I know my aunt’s disability check isn’t much,” Alex said. “I sent her checks over the years as I could, but none of them were ever cashed. Are you paying her bills?”
Nettie stood and went to a small antique-looking desk against one wall. She pulled open a drawer and reached inside, then brought over an envelope and checkbook. She placed them on the coffee table in front of Alex.
“All your checks are in that envelope,” Nettie said softly. “I never wanted you to think I was trying to take advantage of your aunt.” Then she pushed the checkbook toward Alex. “All her SSI checks are still deposited directly into the checking account you set up for her, and every penny spent is accounted for. I pay for half of everything.” She sighed. “Your address was on your checks. I wanted to write to you—to tell you about your aunt’s stroke—but Willow wouldn’t allow it. She wanted you to come back on your own.”
Alex went through the envelope and then scanned the checkbook. Nettie was telling the truth. She looked up and met her gaze. “I’m sorry. This is just so unusual.”
Nettie’s eyes misted. “You haven’t known much kindness, have you, honey?”
The woman’s look of compassion angered her. “Look, I really don’t have time for this. Whatever you and my aunt want to do is fine with me. I don’t care. I’m here because I need something from Willow.”
“What is it?”
“A book. A very special book.”
Nettie’s kind expression turned guarded. “What’s the title of the book?” she asked.
“It has no title. My aunt and people she knows just call it The Book.”
From behind her, an unearthly screech rose in intensity, causing Alex to jump. She turned to see her aunt standing in the doorway, a look of terror on her face.
7
Nettie hurried over to Willow. As she helped her to the couch, Alex watched her aunt. Alex hadn’t seen her in eighteen years. Although Willow was definitely older and Alex could see the effects of the stroke, she was happy to note how clean her aunt looked. Her wild, curly hair had been cut short, and her clothes were much more stylish. Appropriate for a woman her age. Probably Nettie’s doing. Just like the house.
“Willow, look who’s here,” Nettie was saying. “It’s Alex. Alexandra.”
Willow stared at her as if she didn’t know her. Then the corners of her lips ticked upward into a smile, although one side of her mouth was higher than the other. After her reaction to hearing that Alex wanted The Book, Alex was surprised to see her smile.
“Hi, Willow,” Alex said. “It’s nice to see you.”
Willow mumbled something that sounded as if she were trying to say she was happy to see her too.
Alex glanced at her watch. She’d been here close to fifteen minutes. If she didn’t move this along, Logan and Mike would be knocking on the door.
She scooted closer to her aunt. “Listen, Willow. I need your help. A very bad man plans to hurt a lot of people. If we don’t find him in time, many will die. Do you understand?”
Willow nodded, her eyes trained on Alex’s.
“I know you’re not supposed to talk about The Book, but this evil man is using it to carry out a terrible plan. We need it so we can figure out what he might do next.” Alex reached into her jacket pocket and removed the search warrant. “This gives me the authority to take The Book by force if I have to, but I’d rather you help me of your own free will.”
Willow’s body stiffened, and her face contorted with fear. She be
gan to breathe quickly and say, “No . . . no . . . no . . . no . . .”
Alex’s gaze shifted to Nettie. What was she thinking? Did she know about The Book? Nettie frowned at her. “I’m sorry, Alex, but Willow needs to lie down again. I’m afraid this kind of stress could bring on another stroke.”
Before Alex could protest, Nettie helped Willow to her feet and guided her out of the living room, but not before Willow looked back and shook her head at Alex. Her fear was palpable.
Alex looked at her watch again. Time was up. The house would have to be searched. She wondered how upset that would make her aunt—and her aunt’s roommate. When Nettie came back into the room, Alex stood.
“I work for the FBI, Nettie. We have to have that book. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said lives are at stake.” She put the warrant on the coffee table. “Unless you’re able to give it to me, this house will have to be searched.”
“Oh, honey, I wasn’t getting your aunt out of the room because I don’t want you to take that thing. I just didn’t want her to see this.” She walked over to a large bookshelf, reached behind it, and pulled out something wrapped in plastic. She handed it to Alex. The Book. Alex removed an evidence bag from her other pocket and put The Book in it.
“Thank you,” Alex said, meaning it with every fiber of her being. “If it wasn’t for you—”
“No, honey. If it wasn’t for the Lord. I knew He’d sent me here. At first I thought it was just to care for your aunt, and that was enough for me. But now I know there’s more. I’m here so I can get this horrible thing out of this house.”
“You’re not—”
“Part of the Circle? Heavens no. I’m a Christian. The first time Willow showed this to me, I knew it was evil. I would have thrown it away, but she made me promise not to do that until she was ready. I’ve talked to your aunt about the Lord, and she’s very close to accepting Him instead of these lies.”
