Darkness at the Edge of Town

by Jennifer Harlow

  “Why wasn’t the sheriff informed?” Luke asked, God bless him.

  Echolls glanced at Carmichael, who momentarily grimaced. “I didn’t feel we’d reached that point yet. We’re only three months into the investigation,” Carmichael said.

  “Three months on their patch and you didn’t think they deserved to know? What? Did you think they couldn’t help you?” Luke asked.

  Carmichael scowled, but I smiled at the unhappy man. “There’s plenty of fault to go around, Agent Hudson,” I said. “But I would recommend that after this meeting you bring Sheriff Hancock into the loop. For what it’s worth, I professionally and personally vouch for him. He was my mentor. I wouldn’t have become half the law enforcement professional I am without his guidance. Sheriff Hancock would be an absolute asset to your investigation. And he’s motivated. The moment I brought my suspicions about the Movement to him, he immediately wanted to open a file. I begged him not to. I was terrified for my brother. I still am. I wanted to extract Billy before anything official began. I didn’t even tell Lu—Agent Hudson what I was doing,” I said, forcing a blush at my “faux pas.” I shook my head. “Sheriff Hancock fully intended to begin building a case but was keeping it unofficial until I saw my brother. But I will reiterate again, had he known about your investigation perhaps all this trouble could have been avoided. The sheriff and the Grey County Sheriff’s Office did nothing wrong, legally or morally. And I will swear to that in a court of law.”

  Echolls cleared his throat. “I don’t think that will be necessary, Dr. Ballard. We’ve worked with Tim before. It was a mistake not to keep him in the loop. We will from now on.”

  “Thank you, Agent Echolls. I’ll hold you to that,” I said with a saccharine smile. I reached into my purse and removed my notes and the zip drive with my interview recordings. “And now that we’re all finally on the same page, here are my notes, thoughts, and evidence on the New Morning Movement. I’m also prepared to answer any and all questions I’m sure you no doubt have.”

  I gave them the quick version of my investigation, making sure to be vague with the details. It was the only way to get them to share.

  “So Megan Snyder recruited you?” Carmichael asked.

  “More or less. She was my primary handler. From the start she was manipulating me. Tons of compliments, acting like my best friend, she even tried to seduce me at one point.” I glanced at Luke, who had more red in his cheeks than usual. “And when it was revealed who I was, she went into defense mode. I don’t know if she believes in their dogma, but she definitely believes in Mathias. Getting her to flip would be impossible. She is loyal. But I do think she knows more than others. If this were the military, she’d be a lieutenant or sergeant. It would not surprise me in the least if she were involved in the apparent drug side.”

  “What about Helen Mitchell?” Carmichael asked.

  “No, she’s a true believer. She’s there to help people. She might suspect something untoward, but with her son’s history, I’d be shocked if she had anything to do with drugs. She’s their front.”

  “Do you get the sense she’d flip?” Lucerno asked. I took him to be Carmichael’s partner.

  “She has a conscience, and her son died from drugs, so it’s possible. But if you’re after the group for drugs, then she’d be a bad source of intel. Plus she does love everyone there, so she could also decide she just doesn’t care. She’s a gamble. I wouldn’t chance it.”

  “What about Paul Roselli?” Carmichael asked.

  “Don’t know. He believes, but that doesn’t mean he’s an angel. He’d do what Mathias and the others told him to. He was ready to marry me before we even met, so…” I shrugged.

  “Who gives the outreach assignments? Where do they send people to hand out fliers?” Lucerno asked.

  “They’re called journeyman ambassadors,” I clarified. “Uh, Megan maybe. I don’t recall. Why?”

  “And do these ambassadors use their own cars or does the Movement provide them?” Carmichael asked.

  My eyes narrowed. “Do you think that’s how they’re transporting the drugs? The ambassadors act as mules?”

  “We’re not at liberty to say,” Carmichael said.

  “Oh, come on.” I leaned forward. “Look, I get why you’re mad. I treaded on your case, but I’m not some civilian. I was imbedded with these people, brief though it may have been. And the whole time I was thinking fraud, not drugs. I’ve been to The Apex. I’ve met the man himself. If I’m really going to be any help to you, I need the full picture.”

  “But you are a civilian now,” Carmichael pointed out. “And this is an active investigation.”

  “I’m also a forensic psychologist with almost a decade in the FBI. I can help. If you let me.”

  Echolls leaned in to whisper to his underling’s ear. Carmichael slowly blinked and momentary scowled before the men broke apart. His scowl deepened when he looked back at me. Ha, ha. I won.

  “Mathias Morning was born Samuel Hans Mueller in Lancaster County seventy-three years ago,” Carmichael started. “He was raised Amish, if you can believe it. Parents remained together; he was the third of seven children; nothing spectacular about his childhood beyond the obvious. His first arrest was when he was eighteen for possession and check-kiting with one Kenneth Young, former Marine dishonorably discharged for theft and conduct unbecoming, who we believe was and is his lover. During that arrest, Young assaulted a police officer and received five years in prison, Samuel only one. When Samuel was released he returned to the Amish community. He married and had two children, but when Young was released, Samuel left the community soon after. They went west and joined a hippie community, while also running drugs for the Hell’s Angels. Young was arrested again for trafficking and went away for fifteen years. Samuel wasn’t arrested, for that at least. He did go back to kiting checks and various frauds, with a few months in jail here and there. We think it was about 1971 when he came across the Jim Jones cult in Northern California.”

  “You’re kidding me,” Luke said.

  “Nope. He lived at the compound in Ghana for a few months, but must have seen the writing on the wall and got out while he could,” Carmichael continued. “Within a year of leaving, he was running his own little group called Victory Rise back in San Francisco. Mostly gay men doing outreach and mobilizing, but really Samuel, then David Marshall, was collecting bank information from his members. All told, when he vanished, he had twenty-five grand.”

  “Was he arrested?” I asked.

  “No. By the time he surfaced again the statute of limitations had run out. He’d fled to Canada and was living under a false identity for ten years. He’d started his own little commune just outside Niagara Falls. Had about forty people there, including two women who claimed he was their baby daddy. The commune was a way point for cocaine, heroin, and pills coming into or leaving the US. When we and the Mounties stormed the place, Mathias made a deal with the Canadians to remain in the country and got only three years.”

  “That’s it?” I asked.

  “He did get shivved in prison if it’s any consolation. He almost died. Spent his time in solitary and vanished again when he got out. We think he and Ken reunited and went to Mexico. With their law enforcement mess down there, who the fuck knows what they got into. It wasn’t until 1998 that he popped up again in Phoenix, this time as the leader of a doomsday cult. There were a million of those cults, and his group was small, only about sixty people, but I got a tip from an informant that the compound was a way station site for the Sinaloans. It took a year, but we got a couple members to flip. One member even tipped us off to when the drugs would arrive. Boom, we got them, right? The fucker should have been put away for life, but our two key witnesses met unfortunate ends. One hung himself and the other was murdered in her cell by another cult member. The murderer told us the world was about to end, so why the hell not, huh? Samuel had those people so hosed. They actually believed he could save them from Y2K. They were creepy as fuck
. Like the Brady Bunch meets the S.S.”

  “I know exactly what you mean,” I said. “Any proof he was involved in the killings?”

  “None we found, and we fucking looked. Still, Samuel got twenty years up in Atwater. Young got the same in Atlanta, but Samuel was such a model prisoner they granted his request in 2005 to join his boyfriend. Once again, model prisoner. Helped others earn their GEDs, helped with appeals, even got involved with the drug rehab programs there. Due to overcrowding and good behavior, he was out in 2014. He returned to Rebersburg near Lancaster and reconnected with some of his family, including Betsy Snow. His great-granddaughter.”

  My mouth flopped open. “Betsy’s his great-granddaughter?”

  “Yes. It was actually her parents who contacted me, which of course you know using any technology is a big deal to the Amish. I’d interviewed the family back in ’98, so they knew me. Betsy wasn’t even alive then. Samuel had been writing to them all from prison and his grandson Peter, Betsy’s father, was one of the few who responded. Betsy too. When he was released, Samuel spent a little over a year in Rebersburg, working, being a model parolee, but the moment he was no longer under parole, he was out of there. Young had a cousin who put him up in Dunlop and Samuel joined them. ‘Mathias’ had already begun recruiting for his new cult back in Rebersburg. Helen joined them, Megan soon after, and when they were on rumspringa Betsy and two of her friends, Hannah and Ruth, eventually came too. He must have been grooming them, or really Betsy was. I would have known about Samuel’s new enterprise a lot sooner, but I was still stationed in Phoenix, and it took almost a year for the Snows to find out what happened to their daughter. They just assumed she’d left after the rumspringa. Kids do. When Ruth’s parents finally heard from their daughter, they told the Snows, who called me. It took about two months for me to convince my superiors to transfer me here and open an investigation.”

  “What have you done since?” Luke asked.

  “What your girlfriend here did. Interviewed past members. Found an informant in the group. She’s been trying to get permanent residence at The Apex, but it hasn’t happened yet. She’s how we know about Helen and Megan’s positions in the cult. I called her right after I talked to your sheriff. She said you rattled everyone. People are growing more paranoid by the minute. They think the FBI are going to go in shooting. Their children would be taken away. You’ve created quite the shit show for us, Dr. Ballard. Thanks for that.”

  “Have you uncovered any evidence of drugs yet?” Luke asked, changing the subject.

  Carmichael sat up a little in his chair. “During two of her ambassador duties my informant checked the car they used. Hidden in the trunk she found OxyContin and meth packaged for wholesale. She hasn’t had the chance again.”

  “Then why didn’t you get a search warrant for the properties?” I asked.

  “We’re building a case,” Lucerno said. “The CI didn’t see who put the packages in or picked them up. And the car didn’t belong to someone with a record.”

  “Your brother was one of the few members without a rap sheet,” Carmichael said with smug satisfaction.

  My stomach lurched. “My brother’s car was used?”

  “Yep,” Carmichael said.

  “My brother would never be involved with anything to do with drugs. There was no way he knew that shit was in his car.”

  “The CI felt the same,” Lucerno said. “Your brother appears clean. Betsy, not so much. We think she’s part of the inner circle. She worships the old man, and he seems to dote on her too.”

  “That must be why Mathias risked bringing Billy to The Apex,” I said. “She liked my brother, got herself knocked up, and begged Gramps to convince Billy to marry her and live there.” I scoffed. “All of this because a teenage girl had a crush.”

  “Do you have proof she’s involved in the drugs?” Luke asked.

  “Not yet,” Carmichael said.

  “And do you think they’re just trafficking?” Luke asked.

  “No. We believe they’re storing and even manufacturing at this Apex. There’s been some chatter from a biker club, The Scythes; they set up a new meth manufacturing site somewhere in the area. From the satellite footage, it appears there were a few trailers set up on the edge of the property away from everything else. The owner of the farm is also the grandmother of a known Scythe member. She has dementia and lives in a home.”

  “Mathias did say a friend donated the property,” I said.

  “That seems risky,” Luke said, “having so many people on the property when they’re cooking meth. What if a member stumbled onto the trailers?”

  “The only people allowed at the farm are the fully compliant ones,” I said. “All Mathias has to do is tell them there’s bad juju in that location and they won’t go near it. Plus with all the members coming and going already, it’s less suspicious if a few bikers come and go too. Not that anyone’s looking. The nearest neighbor is miles away.”

  “But why a cult?” Luke asked. “Why not just stick to drugs? It’d be cleaner. A cult draws attention.”

  “Actually, we think the drugs came later,” Lucerno said. “He’s been building the Movement for over a year. Our guess is they needed funding and fell back on old tricks about six months ago.”

  “And he has kept the Movement small,” Carmichael added. “Your sheriff didn’t know about them, and the only reason I do is because of the Snows.”

  “So where do we go from here?” I asked.

  “We were asking ourselves the same damn thing before you arrived,” Carmichael said. “Because of you there’s a ticking clock.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “I told you. You spooked the fuck out of them. They know law enforcement is onto them. They—”

  “No, they don’t,” I cut in. “I was there as a sister, nothing more. And Mathias threatened to spread lies about me and my family if I didn’t back off.”

  “He blackmailed you? With what?” Lucerno asked.

  “That I was in a three-way with some members, just to name one lie. Since I’m in the public eye, even rumors can ruin my reputation. Worse, they can ruin Agent Hudson’s. I was leaving town when Sheriff Hancock told me about your investigation. Once Mathias hears I’m gone, it may take a little time, but everything should return to normal there. He won. He knows it.”

  “Then why has he begun destroying evidence? The trailers we believe the bikers were using were removed from the property last night,” Carmichael said.

  “Yeah, last night, when he knew I’d be coming the next day. I would have moved them as well. But he neutralized the threat. Me. And unless your CI blabs, he knows fuck-all about the DEA investigating him. Keep it that way. He’s already paranoid. If you do anything to fan those flames, you’ll scorch the whole damn mountain. I’ve met this guy, okay? He’s pure sociopath. And at age seventy-three he knows if you catch him even selling a joint, he will spend the rest of his life in prison. He will do anything to make sure that doesn’t happen. He will not let you win. Now, I fucked up going to that farm. I admit that. I underestimated the man. But I left my twin brother there. I was leaving fucking town because I don’t underestimate him anymore. And from everything you’ve told me today about him, I still think the best course of action is to back off. Do not take any chances here. Take the python approach. Stick to the shadows, build your case from there, and spring your trap. It may take time, but it’s the safer route.”

  “We will definitely take it under advisement,” Echolls said with a smile, but Carmichael’s stony face dropped a rock into my stomach. He hadn’t heard a damn word I’d said. Echolls stood. “I think we’ve covered everything, no? Dr. Ballard, you’ve been a great help.”

  I sighed. “Thank you. You have my notes and interviews. I hope they’re helpful as well.”

  “I’m sure they will be.”

  Luke and I stood too. “I leave this case in your more than capable hands, gentlemen,” I said. “Just please heed what I said about
Sheriff Hancock and how to proceed. And please keep me informed. I ask not as a former member of law enforcement but as a sister. My brother is an innocent in many ways. If he knew what was happening, if most of them did, they wouldn’t be there. They’re just lost people looking for a place in the world. Be careful, please.”

  “We will,” Lucerno said.

  “Thank you.”

  Luke peered at Carmichael. “It was nice to meet you. Keep up the good work.”

  “Let me walk you both out,” Echolls said.

  As we walked out of the conference room, Luke said, “It was great seeing you again, sir. Say hi to Mrs. Echolls, Victoria, and Danielle. And if you’re ever in D.C., I owe you a steak dinner at Morton’s.”

  “I will hold you to that.”

  “If you’re ever in Charlotte or Grafton, I owe you the same,” I said. “Thank you for letting Luke sit in. And thank you for reining your agent in about Sheriff Hancock.”

  “We should have utilized him before; you were right. We’ll remedy that ASAP.”

  We stepped into the reception area and handed in our visitor badges. “And when you inevitably bring in my brother, please let me know.”

  “I…will try.”

  Another rock tumbled into my gut. “Thank you.”

  We all shook hands, and Echolls left after one last smile for Luke. Mine dropped the moment he was out of sight. “Get me the hell out of here,” I whispered to Luke.

  He placed his hand on the small of my back. “Come on.”

  We walked to the parking lot and got into his Charger, turning on the air immediately. I ripped off my cardigan and wished I could do the same to my pantyhose. “Jesus, it’s fucking hot,” I muttered.

  “You should see what it’s like in D.C. This place is practically Antarctica.” He tossed his own jacket onto the backseat. “I think that went as well as could be expected.”