by Polly Iyer
“I almost blew the whole thing wide open, but I don’t want to talk about that now. I should have done things differently. Better.” Maia lowered her voice to a whisper. “Do you know about the kidnapped babies?”
“Yes. At first it was just gossip, a whisper. I didn’t believe they’d do something so stupid. Then someone confirmed it. Cal tells me what’s going on when he visits, as do others. I can’t imagine anything worse. They’re spitting in the face of the law because they don’t think the law applies to them, that they’re above it. Whose idea was that? Do you know?”
“Phillip’s, of course. He’s the Grand Master, and he’s getting old. Time to speed things up. Dione and I didn’t know anything about it until one of father’s dutiful lapdogs got caught. Do you know about Deems?”
Anat nodded. “He killed himself rather than face kidnapping charges.”
“Or be forced to tell on the group. I don’t know how far they’d go to protect themselves these days. They’ve lost focus.”
“Isn’t that what happens with megalomaniacs?” Anat asked. “Damn. This has to stop. I’d do it, but I’m a little tied up. Even if I weren’t, I have no idea where the hell we are. Someplace in Oklahoma, I think, but I’m not sure.”
“They’ve done well keeping this place secret. I’ve tried to figure it out―two-hour plane trip, no ocean, mountains, but that could be a zillion places. When I learned about the babies, I should have gone to the police. You would have. Unfortunately, I’m not as brave. Now I won’t have the chance because they won’t let me go.”
“Maybe they’ll give you the suite downstairs,” she said. “We could talk from the balconies.”
“It’s not funny, Anat. Our father is involved in something that could put him and the others in prison for life.”
“Good.”
Maia was taken aback by the hatred in Anat’s voice.
Anat drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Have you seen what he’s doing to Brigid and Nona, with my mother’s blessing? They’re nothing more than genetic material and wet nurses. And Silas, our…father, I wouldn’t be surprised if―”
“If what?”
Anat clasped her hands around her neck and shook her head. “Never mind.”
After Maia saw what her two half-sisters were doing, she banished those theories too perverse to give credence. She bet Anat thought the same thing now.
“What about Dione?” Anat said. “Is she still the obedient servant?”
Anat hadn’t handled her imprisonment as well as Maia first thought. Resentment colored her tone, not that Maia blamed her. “Don’t be so hard on her. We can’t all have your courage. Dione’s coming around. Still, I don’t think she has the nerve to go to the police.”
Anat signed. “Too bad.”
“Cebele is a bitch,” Maia said with more venom than she intended, “and she spawned a bitch―four bitches―all with their husband’s dicks wrapped around their little fingers.” She paused and caught Anat’s eye. “I’ve asked Seth to help get the babies back to their parents.”
Anat snorted. “Don’t count on him. He’s their number one soldier and master organizer. He’s sterile except with you.”
One part of her hoped Seth had lied. Then he’d be easier to forget. But he’d told the truth. “I didn’t believe him.”
“Yup, his little swimmers sank every time. He sure made beautiful children with you. He brings them here often. I hate what they’re doing to them, and I worry about Phillip.”
Maia’s nerve endings pricked to attention. She found it hard to draw a breath. “Phillip? Why?”
“He’s withdrawn and shy, complicated. I’m not sure―” Anat stared out over the balcony. “I’m not sure something hasn’t happened to him.”
“Like what, Anat? Tell me.”
Her sister spoke so softly, Maia strained to hear her over the roar of the water below. “I’m not sure. Something isn’t right. I’ve asked, but no one’s telling.”
Maia paced the balcony. “Phillip did seem unnaturally quiet.” Peering over the side, she looked down at the raging rapids scrambling over the glistening rocks, splashing foam into the air. For a brief moment the rocks came toward her, as if she had plummeted over the side in a feverish attempt to avoid what she didn’t want to face. The vision seemed so real. Did her mother see the pavement coming toward her when she threw herself out the window, or did she close her eyes until she splattered to her death? Had her guilt about her retarded son, Maia’s brother, been the cause of her death?
Her own guilt churned inside her. How many times had she wanted to steal her children and run away? Except where was the compound? Each time she came by company jet, she relinquished her cell phone so the GPS couldn’t reveal the location. Seth knew because he flew in and out on occasion, even though this was his home, and he rarely left.
She’d failed her children miserably. If they were damaged, she blamed herself. She was no better than the others, probably worse. “We need to get out of here. Send the authorities. Something, Anat.”
“Cal and I have had a plan for years,” Anat said, “but we couldn’t carry it out alone. We need Seth. With him on our side, we might have a chance to stop this madness. You’re our only hope.”
Chapter Thirty- Seven
Who’s Watching the Children?
Lucier pushed aside the papers on his desk to answer the phone.
“You were right, Lieutenant,” Dione Compton said. “My father took my phone and checked the numbers in the data bank. He found nothing, thanks to you. I would never have thought of doing that.”
“Did you find out anything about your sister?”
“No. After I asked about Maia, everyone clammed up more than usual.”
“What’s your honest opinion?”
“I’m almost sure they’ve sent her away.”
“Do you know where?”
A long pause hung on the line. “Hmm, yes…and no.”
What the hell did that mean? “Your father’s group is on the verge of being exposed. I’d hate to see you caught in the crossfire.” Lucier could almost hear Dione Compton wrestle her conscience.
She remained silent for a long moment before she spoke. “I can’t. You don’t understand. I’m afraid. Terrified.”
“I do understand, Ms. Compton. Without satanic ritual abuse, worshipping Satan in itself is not a crime. Five babies, maybe more, have been stolen from their parents. Whatever justifications your father and his friends gave, kidnapping is a federal crime.”
Dione didn’t respond. The telephone line crackled with the silence of fear. Was he getting through to her?
“Maia and I didn’t know about the babies until that kidnapper was caught,” she said softly. “Oh, God, please, what should I do?”
“If you believe in God, you’ll make the right decision. It’s not too late.”
She sniffed, and Lucier thought perhaps he’d finally broken through. “Are you familiar with two young women who call themselves Brigid and Nona Fulceri?”
Dione Compton hung up.
* * * * *
Maia spent the afternoon in her quarters with her children. She was no psychologist, but she agreed with Anat. Her older son Phillip was abnormally withdrawn and remote. He’d suffered something traumatic, and he wouldn’t confide in her. In fact, he only spoke in one-word answers. Leo, the youngest, clung to her and didn't want to let go. She sensed that he, too, was on the way to having problems. Only the girl, Iris, acted like a girl her age should act―if she were raised within the confines of the group.
“What happened to Phillip?” she asked Seth later when they were alone.
He looked at her quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“Something’s wrong. Haven’t you noticed?”
“He’s a quiet kid.”
“How much time do you spend with him?”
“I see him every day,” Seth said. “I see all of them every day.”
“Not see them. Spend time with
them.”
“What are you getting at, Maia?”
“Do the boys stay with you at night?”
“You know all the kids stay together.”
“Who watches them?”
“The leaders take turns. What’s this about?”
How could she phrase this without proof? “I think Phillip has been sexually abused.”
Seth started to laugh but stopped when he realized Maia was serious. “Don’t be ridiculous. The pleasuring here is strictly heterosexual, and a strict hands-off policy is in effect until the kids reach a certain age. You know that.”
“What about Cal Easley? Does he spend time with the children? Could he have been with Phillip alone?”
“Cal? He spends time with all the children, teaches them math and science and art. Every subject imaginable. The kids love him. Cal’s the most gentle person here. He’d never touch a kid. He may be gay, but I think he’s more, I don’t know, asexual. Sex with either gender doesn’t seem to interest him. He’s always been…different, an anomaly, ever since we were children. He does pretty much what he wants, and no one pays attention. Cal shouldn’t be here,” Seth admitted. “If he could find his way out, he’d be gone. Cal is instrumental in the intellectual cultivation of the next generation, but a sexual predator? No. Not Cal. Not anyone.”
Maia felt ashamed to suspect Cal because he was gay. Child predators were a special strain of deviant. “I don’t believe this.” Maia paced the floor of her suite. “Don’t you care what happens to the children? To your children? Your sons have all the characteristics of troubled psyches, and you choose not to notice.” She fell into a chair. “It’s as much my fault as yours. I’ve been a pawn in all this. Silas said go, I went. Silas said stay, I stayed. Silas said fuck, I fucked. My children have been raised by others when I should have raised them. But not here. Not in this place. I want both worlds and I can’t have either.”
Seth knelt down before her. He gently brushed away a tear crawling down her cheek. “I’ll talk to Phillip. If something bad has happened, he’ll tell me. I’ll find out, Maia. Promise.”
“I need to talk to the group, Seth.”
“Not until you go through…counseling. Those are my instructions.”
“You don’t mean counseling, you mean a dozen sessions of brainwashing. It won’t work. It didn’t work on Anat, and now it won’t work on me.”
“Then you’ll never leave here. That’s the word from the counsel, which is okay with me. Nothing would make me happier.”
Never leave? Even though she’d brought up the possibility herself, hearing the words from Seth turned her stomach into a tornado. Had she made another mistake? Screwed up again? Why didn’t she just keep her mouth shut and go along until they let her go? Then she would have blown the whole thing wide open. Instead, she was caught in a web of her own doing.
Her sons needed counseling, outside the compound. There was no time to lose. Anat’s plan, as difficult as it would be, was the only way.
Chapter Thirty- Eight
The Night of the Crescent Moon
After the abruptly ended conversation with Dione Compton, Lucier finished up his work and headed to Diana’s house. Dinner there had become a routine. She practiced her cooking, he ate. He couldn’t have cared less about the food. He loved being with Diana.
Tonight she ordered a pizza, which was fine with him. They devoured it in record time. He patted his belly. “Good dinner. Pizza from Gino’s Grotto is my favorite.”
“I didn’t feel like cooking tonight. Hope you don’t mind.”
They were sitting on the sofa. An empty pizza box took up most of the coffee table, along with paper plates, soft drink cans, crushed red pepper, and the remains of freshly grated Parmesan.
“Once my belly’s full, doesn’t matter whether I’ve eaten a gourmet meal or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.” He moved closer and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck. “Actually, my needs are more primal. Food is survival. Making love is soul food.”
“I love soul food,” she whispered in his ear, “but I want to hear more about Dione Compton.”
“Riiight,” he drawled, disappointed she didn’t pursue the more amorous angle.
She gathered the crumpled napkins, tossed them into the box along with the paper plates, and brought them into the kitchen. Lucier carried the drink cans.
He gazed wistfully at the moist spot on her neck and sighed. “When I asked Dione if she knew where her sister was, she gave me a rather cryptic answer.”
“Like what?”
“How did she put it? ‘Yes and no.’”
“She knows but doesn’t know the physical location?”
“That’s what I thought.”
Diana finished her Coke and tossed both cans in the recycle bin. “You haven’t found possible properties?”
“A clever corporate attorney can tangle properties into all kinds of corporate mumbo jumbo. Neither Jason nor Ralph Stallings, with all the FBI’s data, came up with anything. They’re still trying.”
“If they hadn’t stolen the babies, we might never have known about this group.”
“This is bigger than I thought. The idea gives me the creeps.”
“Wherever this place is, it must be remote, and they go by private jet. What do the experts say? Ninety-eight percent of the population lives on two percent of the land? That leaves a big part of country from which to carve out their hideaway.”
“Thanks,” Lucier said. “I feel a whole lot better. Both Crane Corporation and Compton International have their own planes, but the pilots aren’t around for us to interview. That leaves the airport and Dione. I bet Compton or Crane pays out enough money to the right people, who in turn will say whatever they’re told to say.”
“Will Dione be at Compton’s the night of the crescent moon?”
“I doubt he’ll allow it. Checking her cell phone means he doesn’t trust her, and I’m sure he won’t want her anywhere near me.”
“Maybe if I say she asked for a reading. What do you think?”
“You’d be putting words in her mouth.” Lucier stopped and weighed his words. He couldn’t deny how uneasy he felt about their upcoming evening. “What if I asked you not to do this reading?”
She stopped wiping down the counters and raised an eyebrow. “What? Say that again. I must have misheard.”
“You didn’t. I asked you not to go to Compton’s on the crescent moon.”
“Why?”
“They’ve done everything to broadcast that something will happen on the night of crescent moon. Dione confirmed that you’re in their plans. I have a bad feeling for good reason.”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to have those prescient feelings. Besides, it’s tomorrow night. What can they do, Ernie? People will know where we’ll be. Compton wouldn’t dare do anything. If he was seriously planning something, why would he send notes and warnings?”
“Maybe he’s not the one sending them.”
“Then who?”
“I don’t know, but I don’t like it.” Lucier’s premonitions came shrouded in a black cloud. He couldn’t shake it. Compton and Crane’s wealth and power had insulated them. They flaunted their misdeeds in the faces of those they considered inferior and expected to get away with them. Lucier didn’t know what they planned for Diana, but his job was to make sure nothing happened to her, both as a cop and a lover.
* * * * *
All the next day, Diana’s thoughts focused on this night―the night of the crescent moon. She peeked out the bathroom window. Though still light outside, the pale sliver of moon hung low in the sky, one eye winking at her. Her heart beat a little faster, and a ring of heat circled her neck. She’d determined long ago that she had a screw loose somewhere to keep tempting fate. Now, she was about to do it again.
Lucier had gone home to change. She hadn’t heard him come into the house, but she turned to find him leaning against the frame of the bathroom door with an admiring expression
on his face.
“Are you ready?” he asked.
After a dab of her bright red lipstick, a quick fluff of her curls, and one last check in the mirror, she said, “Yup, ready as I’ll ever be. Tonight’s the big night. The night of the crescent moon.”
“You’re sure you want to do this?”
She drew a deep breath, let it out in a long sigh. “Positive. This is our chance to find out what’s going on. Five men think they can hide their inner sensations. I’m betting at least one of them will give off vibes that exposes their plans, whether he wants to or not. That’s all we need. Just one.”
“I’m worried about ‘Diana of the Moon, we await you.’ They want to place you on an altar and worship you.”
She snorted. “They’ve already done that.”
“Except this time I’ll be watching everything you put in your mouth. Drinks out of the same containers as everyone else; food the same way.”
“They can’t drug me without drugging you, and how can they do that when your men know we’re there.”
“We still have to be careful. These people think they’re above the law.”
“In their world, they are the law.”
“I’ve planned a few things of my own.” He put something in her hand the size of a dime.
“What’s this?”
“A GPS tracking device. Tuck it in your purse. I put one in my wallet and another on the car. My people will know where we are at all times.”
She shrugged and dropped it in her evening bag. “I feel like Mata Hari on some kind of spy mission.”
He kissed her. “You’re my Mata Hari. Come on.”
They left in Lucier’s car and arrived at Compton’s French Quarter residence five minutes after seven. Since only the men asked readings, Diana wasn’t sure the women would be there, but they were, minus Anastasia Easley, each in slinky dresses. So slinky and close to the skin Diana could tell none of them wore underwear. A quick exchange with Lucier told her he noticed too. She scanned the room. No sign of Edward Slater. She wasn’t surprised but thought he’d be curious enough to show up.
