by Polly Iyer
“People say that about a lot of criminals, after the fact. Anyone here who might know something about him?”
“The secretary might. I’ll go find her and bring her here.”
Diana started to say something after he left, but Lucier motioned her to keep quiet. A slight shift of his eyes indicated a small light inside the vent high on the wall facing the visitors’ seats. Diana’s almost imperceptible glance confirmed Lucier’s discovery, and her instinct cautioned a camera probably meant a recording device. Maybe the surveillance had its purpose, but until they knew for sure, she wouldn’t say anything.
Slater returned with a beautiful young woman who looked to be about twenty. Diana couldn’t help notice her voluptuous figure, small waist and hips, with breasts out of proportion to her small frame. Her dark auburn hair fell past her shoulders. She wore no makeup, but her Madonna-like face required none.
“Ms. Racine, Lieutenant Lucier, this is Brigid. Maybe she can help you.”
“Do you know this man?” Lucier asked, showing her the picture.
The girl stole a glance at Slater as if she were asking permission to speak. He nodded. “Yes, that’s Dudley,” she said in a soft voice. “He sometimes helps out here. In return for a bed, many men offer their services. I haven’t seen him in a while, though.”
“Do you have an address for him?” Lucier asked.
“I doubt he has one,” she said, “which is why he comes here.”
“Check with the others, will you?” Slater said. “See if anyone knows more about him.”
She nodded again at Slater and left the room.
“Beautiful, isn’t she?” Slater said when she left. “A runaway. She showed up here a few months ago, pregnant and alone. Her father sexually abused her. The child was his. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your point of view, she miscarried. She stayed on, grateful to have found a safe place. She’s smart and efficient.”
“And obviously quite devoted to you,” Diana said. “Do many young girls in her condition come here?”
“I don’t know about devoted, but my staff and I treat those who come here with kindness and respect. Women like Brigid respond. We have an open door policy. Most women who come here seek refuge from abusive lifestyles. Others have fallen on hard times and have no place to go. We give them meals and clothes, ask no questions, and offer no counsel other than a sympathetic ear. When they’re ready to face the world, we help them find work. We hope those abused women won’t go back to their former lives, but many do.”
“How do you get your contributions?” Lucier asked.
“As I said, donations. They’re a matter of public record, but I bet you’re referring to Jeanine Highsmith.”
“Who’s she?” Lucier said.
Slater smiled. “Ah, Lieutenant, I’m sure you checked me out before you came here and learned of the lawsuit slapped against me and the mission last year. Ms. Highsmith made that donation of her own free will, and I gratefully accepted. We used the money to purchase more beds, food, and supplies. For some reason, she accused me of defrauding her. Nothing could be further from the truth. She later dropped the charges.”
“You seem to know my mind, Mr. Slater,” Lucier said. “Don’t tell me there are two psychics in the room.”
“Hardly. I just know how people think. They assume places like this are fronts, and that people like me pocket the money and one day disappear into an early and comfortable retirement. I assure you that’s not the case here. Sunrise Mission was my idea, but the state monitors us closely. I solicit donations and, along with the overseer, recommend how the money should be allocated. But I don’t handle it.”
“Have other girls come here in the same situation as Brigid?”
“You mean pregnant and victims of incest? No, and we don’t save all those who do. Not that I’m in the savior business, but we do what we can.”
Brigid came back into the room. “I asked around. No one here has any idea about Dudley, Lieutenant Lucier. Is that all, Brother Osiris?”
“Yes, Brigid, that’s all. Thank you.” A slight bow of her head and she was gone.
Diana watched her go. “And you, Mr. Slater, mentioned being broken into pieces and put back together like your mythological counterpart. What’s your story?”
“Oh, I’m afraid it would bore you. Let’s just say that I’ve seen hell, and it made a huge impression on me.” He paused. “Anything else I can help you with?”
“No, I don’t think so, but if Deems shows up, I’d appreciate a call.” Lucier handed Slater his card.
Slater turned to Diana. “If you don’t mind my asking, are you officially involved in this investigation? I seem to recall that after your shocking experience recently, you said you were leaving the entertainment business and would no longer assist the police in finding missing persons.”
“That’s true, but I could hardly ignore the disappearance of an infant. I haven’t been much help locating her, but I don’t give up easily.”
“I wish you success.”
“Thanks,” Lucier said.
Diana stopped in front of the bookcase on the way out of the office. “I see you’re a student of religion. Are you a devotee of one in particular?”
“I follow no religion but am interested in all of them. I’m a disciple of faith and reverence. I’ve seen some dreadful things in my life. Things that make me respect the power of evil. One must never be complacent. It is only then that the soul is damned.”
“What happens then, Mr. Slater? What happens when the soul is damned?”
The electricity in the room crackled. Diana and Slater traded stares, neither surrendering the stage. Lucier stood silently to the side.
“Why, you go to hell,” Slater said, maintaining the intensity of his visual focus.
“Ahem, um, I think it’s time leave, Diana. I’m sure Mr. Slater has other things to attend to, and I have to get back to work.” Unopposed
But the two people remained locked on each other until Slater broke contact.
“It’s been very interesting,” Diana said, her outstretched hand ignored. She smiled. Slater was afraid of her touch. “Maybe one day we can continue this conversation. I’d love to discuss mythology with you, considering your obvious fascination with the subject.”
“It would be my pleasure. The goddess Diana is an important presence in mythology, with threads to nature and fertility, as is Osiris, I might add.”
“She’s also Goddess of the Hunt.”
Again, the sparks ignited, and a small smile played across Slater’s lips. “Yes, she is,” he said. “A versatile and talented figure. Are you in the hunting business, Ms. Racine?”
“I hope not, Brother Osiris.”
When they left the building, Lucier showed his irritation. “What the hell went on in there? I felt like I was watching a stage play, with you two in the lead roles and me without a script.”
“I’m not sure, Ernie. You noticed he wouldn’t touch me, didn’t you? I think he was afraid of what I’d see.”
“And did you see anything without the touch?”
“No, but I sensed Edward Slater is a very conflicted man. I’m not sure whether he’s the real thing or a blatant charlatan, a do-gooder or an opportunist, but he has a magnetic charisma, and he knows how to use it. He’s smooth as silk.”
“Did you see the girl? She wasn’t his secretary; she was his disciple. There’s a difference.”
“More his slave, I think. The way she looked at him before doing anything. A young nubile thing like that can hardly be ignored by a virile man.”
“I didn’t notice,” he said.
She laughed and punched him in the ribs. “Get out, you did too. I saw you staring.”
“Just a quickie. I am a virile man, you know.”
“You sure are.” She latched on to his arm and snuggled beside him. “I’d love to know what’s behind those locked doors on the bookcase.”
“A first edition, some valuable si
gned version of a manuscript or publication, or maybe it’s not a book at all.”
“Maybe, but somehow I think the secret to Brother Osiris is in that office.”
As they walked to the car, they exchanged glances when a slim young woman headed into the mission, her angelic face framed by straight blonde hair that blew slow motion in the breeze like a diaphanous curtain. Diana placed her age in the late teens. The buttons of her white blouse strained across her woman’s chest.
Another runaway, or another disciple?
Chapter Nine
The Pink Room in the Pink House
“Anything on Deems, Sam?”
“Nothing. He’s disappeared off the face of the earth. Could be he’s off kidnapping another baby. The feds are issuing a news release with his picture.”
“Good,” Lucier said. “Janitors come and go. It’d be perfectly natural for him to cruise the corridors without raising suspicions. He probably used different names and disguises.”
“None of the babies have turned up, and no ransom notes either.”
“Sam, can you get me a list of contributors to the Sunrise Mission? Should be public record. And dig deeper into Edward Slater, alias Brother Osiris. A complete profile. I wish the hell we could get his fingerprints.”
“Why? Do you think he’s involved in this?”
“Probably not, but my gut tells me there’s something fishy about our do-gooder. Diana thought so too.”
* * * * *
That evening when the doorbell rang, Diana checked to make sure it was Lucier before she opened the door. He would have chewed her out if she hadn’t. She kissed him on the lips. “You look tired.” She pointed him to the sofa. “Relax, I’ll get you a beer.”
“I am tired. It’s been a long day.”
She handed him the beer, then curled up next to him. He leaned back and took a long swallow. “Tastes good. Aren’t you having one?”
“I promised myself I’d cut back.”
“I thought it was just until you fully recovered. You’re recovered.”
“I know, but it won’t hurt to take it slow.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “When was the last time I told you I love you?”
“Last night, in the throes of passion. That’s okay, I’ll take those words any way I can get them.” She took his beer bottle from his hand and leaned into him. “You know what they say when a person stops drinking?”
“What?”
“That they need something to take its place.”
“Really? What did you have in mind?”
“Sex.”
He lifted her onto his lap. “Come here.”
“If I get any closer I’ll fit you like a glove.”
“Exactly what I had in mind.”
He moved her hair aside and put his warm lips on the back of her neck, alternating between kissing and licking.
“Hmm, that is so sexy,” she said.
Still kissing her neck, he moved his hands up under the front of her shirt and brushed over her breasts, barely touching but touching enough to send her nerve endings into spasms. She closed her eyes and released a soft moan. “Oh, God, Ernie, I’m so in love with you. Love me like you’ve never loved me before.”
“Loving you like that will take a long, long time.” He removed the back sofa cushions and threw them on the floor. “Maybe all evening.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She lifted her mouth to his and whispered in his ear.
He broke into a raucous belly laugh. “I love when you talk dirty, as if I needed more encouragement.”
He moved his kisses to her ear and nibbled on her lobe while he ran his hands up under the back of her shirt and unsnapped her bra. “You don’t really need this.”
She stopped unbuttoning his shirt to glare at him. “Thanks for reminding me.”
“I didn’t mean it that way. The size of a woman’s breasts means nothing to me. What matters is who they belong to. For me, yours are perfect. I only meant I can’t feel these getting hard through the fabric.”
These were her nipples, and between the warm kisses on the back of her neck and the delicate touch of his fingers on the tips of her breasts, she thought she would scream in pleasure.
“You have pants on and nothing’s stopping that weapon of yours from doing the same thing.”
“I can’t help it. You turn me on in ways I can’t describe. Everything about you, your head full of curls, your lips, your perfect little body,”―he nuzzled into her neck―“the delicious, sweet scent of you. When I thought I’d lost you, I knew I’d never survive. I’d gone through it once. This time I would have died a slow death.”
He pulled her shirt over her head and slipped her bra straps off her shoulders. He got up and took off his clothes, never removing his gaze from her. Diana loved his body, his tight muscles and strong arms that lifted her like she was nothing more than a puff of air. She loved his coffee-colored skin against her white, his gold-flecked hazel eyes, and the imperfect overlapping of one of his front teeth. She loved everything about him, especially now that he was taking off the rest of her clothes in the slow, methodical way he always undressed her, as if he delighted in revealing every naked inch of skin.
He reached for her hand and raised it to his lips, kissing each finger, nibbling on the tips, never taking his gaze off her. The tender action sparked every nerve ending, inciting her need of him in ways she couldn’t explain. A playful smile crinkled the corners of his eyes as he moved into a slow, gentle kiss while he worked his fingers into the mass of curls, caressing, massaging the base of her skull, causing shivers of delight. His lips moved to her cheek and into her ear, his tongue curious, his breath hot, then down her neck to her shoulder, part kiss, part gentle, erotic nipping.
“I never thought I’d be blessed with love again,” he said. “It’s totally different the second time. One takes the first time for granted. Mid-twenties, you fall in love, get married, and have kids. You don’t give it much thought. It’s all in the timing. Then when everything crashes, you realize how much you lost. The second time is sweeter because you know how fleeting life can be and how important it is to make every moment count.” He moved toward her and kissed her forehead. “I appreciate you more than words can say.”
Diana’s heart went into double rhythm. “Thank you. That’s about the nicest thing you could say, because it wasn’t said in the heat of passion. Well maybe a little passion. Sweet passion.”
“I know we’re not ready to live together, but it’s nice to know there’s someone waiting, especially after a week like this. I hope you feel the same way.”
“I do. I love being part of your life. Even the cop part. Makes me feel like I’m not completely retired.”
He took her into his arms. “I can’t wait much longer.”
“Then don’t,” she said.
* * * * *
After, they lay still for a long time. Diana enjoyed the warmth of his arms around her, the touch of his skin next to hers, the unmistakable scent of sex. “I know how difficult this week was.”
“The Seaver kidnapping is eating at my gut. The longer the baby’s missing, the less likely she’ll be found.”
He was right. The missing child ate at her too. “Anything on Brother Osiris?”
“You mean Edward Slater? Grew up in Dallas, both parents were teachers, good student, went to Brite Divinity School at TCU, but he dropped out before graduating.”
“Any reason why?”
“Nothing on the record except a later problem with drugs and alcohol. Got picked up a few times. Then around 1993, he disappeared from sight until seven years ago when he showed up here as the driving force behind Sunrise Mission.”
The missing block of time must be why Slater avoided her touch. What was he afraid she’d see? “What would make a divinity student drop out and turn into a drug-addicted drunk?”
Lucier’s face scrunched as if in deep thought. “I couldn’t find anything else tha
t suggested the hell he said he experienced. Whatever it was must have happened during that ten-year period.
“The only complaint against him is from the Highsmith woman, and she recanted when he produced the papers she signed. Perfectly legal.
“I wonder why she turned on him.”
“Maybe they had something going, and after he got the money he dumped her,” Lucier said.
Or maybe it was something else. “Have you talked to her?”
“She teaches psychology at LSU. I’m seeing her tomorrow between classes at ten.”
Chapter Ten
The Devil’s Room
Dr. Jeanine Highsmith was not what Lucier expected. Tall, elegantly dressed, and attractive, she didn’t appear to be the type easily conned into parting with her hard-earned money by some smooth-talking swindler.
“Thank you for seeing me, Dr. Highsmith,” Lucier said.
She directed him to a chair in front of her desk. “What’s this about, Lieutenant? I thought everything concerning the Sunrise Mission was settled. I had no case; I withdrew my complaint.”
“We’re investigating the disappearance of the Seaver baby. Maybe you read about it.”
“Yes, of course.”
“There’s a person of interest who’s spent time at the Mission, trading a bed in exchange for doing odd jobs.”
A curious expression flashed across her face. “You don’t think Edward had anything to do with that, do you?”
“No, but you’re one of the volunteers who spent time there other than the few employees and the women seeking refuge. We’ve questioned all of them with little success. None of them paid this man any attention. I’d hoped you might remember him, even chatted with him. Any information you could give us is more than we have now.”
Highsmith examined the photo of Deems, and Lucier watched her expression.
“The only person I recall who even resembled this picture didn’t have a beard. This man looks, I don’t know, scruffier and darker.”
“He changed his appearance.”
