Obsession

by Buchbinder, Sharon

  “Uno, dos, tres…”

  Isabel sidled up to him and sipped her red wine. “Nice of you to spend time with Angie. I think she’s lonely.”

  Not now. Please. “She’s your friend. I’m just looking out for her. It’s all business.”

  “Didn’t look like business to me. If you guys had been alone, you’d have been doing the deed right there on the floor.” She fanned herself. “You guys made me hot just watching you. It was like the best movie scene, ever. Made me want to jump Sean’s bones right here. The air around you two was crackling. I swear I saw sparks flying when she touched your face.”

  He bit his lower lip. “It won’t happen again. I promise.”

  His boss punched his shoulder. “Are you out of your freaking mind? It’s a sign you guys are meant to be together. It’s like that for me and Sean. That kind of connection only happens once in a lifetime. I know you’re ambitious, want to climb the ladder of success with my company, but life can’t be all work and no play. You need to let go of that uptight accountant act once in awhile, have fun. Angie needs it too, in case you hadn’t noticed. If she was wrapped any tighter, she’d be a guitar string. She needs a good tuning. For heaven’s sake, go for the girl. Don’t throw away a chance for happiness, Alejandro.”

  Love advice from the Queen of the Cartel? What was next? Spiritual counseling? He shuddered at the thought. “I’m not the marrying type.”

  Isabel shook her head. “Let me tell you a story.” She motioned to Alejandro to take a seat and grabbed a bottle of wine out of a server’s hands. “Gracias.”

  He had a feeling he was in for a long evening. He glanced at the front door and wished he could run after the red haired woman.

  “Once upon a time, I was on the faculty of Baltimore Metropolitan University. I became good friends with Sarah Rosen who was married to Dan Rosen. Sarah didn’t know that well before they were married, while she and Dan were on the outs and ex-boyfriend and girlfriend, he had a fling with Angie.”

  Isabel smiled. “I can see from the stunned look on your face that you never took Angie for a one night stand kind of a gal.”

  “You got that right. She’s so straight, her face has angles.” Was this the source of her antipathy toward him. Did she think he was married? She’d asked about his family. He would have been happy to let her know he was single. That much was true.

  “Angie didn’t know Dan had been engaged and had just had broken up with Sarah. And Dan didn’t know his little fling with the redhead would produce a child who would literally show up on his doorstep—and that his new wife would take the child in.”

  His head spun with the layers upon layers. “This sounds like a telenovela.”

  She nodded and laughed, a deep throaty guffaw. “It is like soap opera. There’s more.”

  Alejandro stroked his beard and watched the children swinging the baseball bat at the piñata.

  “She told me her father tortured her to find out where the baby was. And she escaped.”

  Isabel nodded. “Yes, she ran to the home of the only man she trusted. Dan Rosen. Sarah rushed her to the hospital, nursed her back to health, protected her from police accusations, and even protected Angie from being killed by her own father, the crazy cult leader, Reverend Edmonds. In short, Sarah became Angie’s guardian angel, if you’ll forgive the pun.”

  “Where are you in this story?”

  Isabel waved her hand and the wine slopped in the glass. “I had my own issues to deal with. A sleazy husband in the ‘construction business’, if you get my drift. A missing nanny. A mysterious explosion. When my husband disappeared, I worried my kids might be next—or me. Sean insisted on coming with me to my parents’ house.” She glanced over at the broad-shouldered man giving Ruby a lift to hit the piñata. “What can I say? The kids love him.”

  “What am I missing here? How do Sarah and Angie fit in?” The dots were not connecting. He had sources, could find out on his own, but he wanted to hear her version.

  “My darling ex-husband sent Sarah a DVD, claiming I was a murderer.” She gave Alejandro an incredulous look. “Can you believe it? That thug was an enforcer for my father, someone who could torture people without leaving marks. How could anyone believe that I could kill him?”

  Alejandro worked to keep his emotions in check and his mask in place. Oh, he could believe it, all right. She had worked over that cult follower with her steel tipped boots. She’d bragged about it.

  He tsked. “Ridiculous.”

  “Exactly. Sarah still has the DVD. I have it from a very good lawyer that letters from the grave are inadmissible in court.” She shrugged. “But, what can I say, I like Sarah, I don’t hold that DVD against her. She asked me to help Angie. And I said yes. Sarah’s like the sister I never had. Practically family.” He could have sworn he saw tears fill her eyes.

  He decided to take a risk with her good mood. “Speaking of family, where are your parents tonight? Seems like they’d want to see their grandchildren in the Christmas pageant.”

  Alejandro locked gazes with Isabel. Despite the blazing fire, a chill settled over him. Her emerald green eyes were as cold as any hired killer’s he’d ever seen. In that split second, he knew without a doubt that if she had wanted to kill her parents, she could have done it. The real question was, did she kill them—and why?

  Smart, sexy, and beautiful, Professora Ramirez wanted for nothing. In some parts of Chihuahua, the people revered her as a female Solomon, arriving in impoverished villages with great fanfare, giving food and money to the poor, holding court for the little people, ensuring rough justice was dealt to thieves and bad teenagers. To top it all off, she ran rehabilitation centers for alcoholics and drug addicts, of all things. She was, for all intents and purposes, Queen Isabel of Chihuahua. Why bother killing her parents?

  Her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “They’re on a trip around the world, too busy having fun to bother with a little thing like grandkids.” Isabel threw the rest of the wine down her throat. “My parents are selfish people. Nothing like Sarah or Angie. Jake belongs with his mother. Not stuck in some crazy, abusive cult. God only knows what they’ll do to him.” A tear slid down her cheek, and she dashed it away with her fingertips.

  “Kill her father. Kill them all if you have to. Bring back that child.” She stood. “And while you’re at it, don’t forget the gold.”

  Chapter Ten

  Rigid with anger, Miriam tapped her thigh with the Disciplinarian and strode down the corridor toward the women’s quarters and the Crèche. What was wrong with these people? They had their orders, said they knew what they were supposed to do. So, why was she cleaning up their messes? Why did she have to do everything herself?

  She strode past a cluster of female congregants, their clucking silenced by her presence. Good. That was as it should be. She marched up to Sister Anne.

  “What’s going on?”

  Sister Anne stood in front of the locked door of the Crèche and wrung her hands. “They want to go home.” Her red-rimmed eyes filled with tears. “They want to know why they’re being kept prisoners.”

  “They were selected to serve Father and the Chosen One. There is no greater glory on this earth. Who’s the ring-leader of this insurrection?”

  The other woman trembled under Miriam’s gaze. “Mina.”

  Guillermina. Of course. No good could ever come from naming a girl after a man. “She’s been trouble from the start.”

  Sister Anne nodded. “Brother John isn’t much help. He’s afraid of them, just keeps telling them to calm down. And they yell more.”

  Miriam lifted her chin. “We’ll see about that. Open the door.”

  Wide-eyed, Sister Anne pulled back the deadbolts with shaking hands and followed Miriam into the dimly lit chamber. A din of high-pitched voices assaulted her ears. Enough was enough. She gripped the Disciplinarian until her hand hurt. She had to get control. Right now. She kicked the door shut. “Shut up.”

  Sister Anne tra
nslated in Spanish, her voice a pale imitation of Miriam’s.

  The jabbering ceased, and the unruly youngsters tightened their cluster. Twelve pairs of wary brown eyes stared at Miriam. She scrutinized the room for the useless eunuch.

  “Where’s Brother John?”

  A muffled voice moaned, “Over here.”

  Brother John dragged himself out from under a bed. Bloody scratch marks stood out on his pallid skin, and the beginning of bruises mingled with his blue tattoo.

  “It was horrible. They attacked me en masse. I had to hide.” He rolled his eyes and shuddered. “They were going to kill me.”

  “Grow a spine. The Lord helps them who help themselves. Watch and learn.”

  Miriam scanned the group of girls for the root of evil and spotted her in the back of the crowd.

  “Mina.” She locked gazes with the girl and crooked her finger. “Come here.”

  Mina lifted chin and shook her head.

  Miriam wasn’t without compassion. She’d been young and foolish once, too. She’d give Mina the chance to repent. She waved her over and repeated the command.

  Mina flipped her the bird.

  Miriam gasped, and her pulse kicked up a notch. “Where did she learn that disgusting gesture?”

  Sister Anne mumbled something about movies and tourists.

  “It was a rhetorical question, you idiot.” Her last thread of patience snapped, and Miriam’s pulse thundered in her ears.

  Mina would pay a heavy price for her defiance. Dressed in white flannel nightgowns, the girls parted like foam on the Red Sea when she pushed her way through them. She dug her fingers into the soft part of Mina’s upper arm and laughed at the look of surprise on the brat’s face.

  “I’m a lot stronger than I look.” She dragged the whimpering adolescent to the door and pushed her face into the wood.

  “This is for your insolence.” Air whistled through the holes of the wooden paddle, and the girl shrieked when the Disciplinarian struck the back of her thighs. “Do I have your attention now?” Miriam slammed the paddle down a second time, this time on the young woman’s round rump.

  Mina screamed and cried out in Spanish.

  Sister Anne shouted, “She’s begging for mercy, please stop.”

  “Mercy? All she had to do was come forward when I gave her the opportunity. She chose the hard way. She’s going to learn who’s in charge here.”

  The air whistled, and the crack of the Disciplinarian rang out again and again. The girls behind her wailed. She slammed Mina’s back with a staccato series of strikes until, at last, the little bitch slid to the floor in a sobbing heap.

  Miriam turned and faced the weeping horde. “Anyone else want to cause trouble?”

  Sister Anne translated through sobs, tears streaming down her face.

  The teenagers cowered and shook their heads. “Nonononononono.”

  She waved the Disciplinarian at the huddled girls. “The next one of you who gives Brother John a hard time will be beaten even harder than Mina.”

  Sister Anne could barely get the words out.

  Good. Now maybe she’d get some respect.

  “Sister Anne, bring me that little one in front.”

  The other woman stepped over to the group of shuddering, whimpering girls and led a wide-eyed teenager over to Miriam. “What’s her name?”

  “Chita.”

  “Lovely name for a girl.” Miriam took her small brown hand into her large work worn one. “Come Chita, it’s time for you to meet Father.”

  ****

  Zeke Edmonds slid into the warm water, rested his head back on the edge of the clawed bathtub, and closed his weary eyes. If only he could rest, maybe the visions and visitations from the Lord would be less frequent. Once he’d welcomed his spells, embraced his visions. But that was before they’d taken over more and more of his life. He loved the Lord, but—

  The smell of sulphur filled his nostrils..

  Oh, no. Not again. He pressed his fingers to his temple, closed his eyes, and took a few deep cleansing breaths. The odor disappeared. Was it possible? Had he staved off another attack?

  The red fog filled his vision and his ears buzzed with white noise. At last the Lord spoke unto Zeke as clearly as if He stood next to him, his voice a roar of rage.

  “Why have you not done as I’ve commanded? Where are the Mothers of the Twenty-Four? Why haven’t you begun spreading your seed as I commanded?”

  “I have limits to my abilities. I need to rest.”

  “You will rest when I tell you to rest. End times are coming soon and you haven’t prepared the way for the progeny who will follow the Chosen One. I am displeased. If you fail to follow my commands, another will rise up among your congregation and take your place.”

  “Who, Lord? Who is this traitor?”

  “Do as you’re told and all will be well. Fail me and you will lose everything you’ve worked for.”

  Just as quickly as the Lord had descended, he was gone. Zeke looked around the room, half-afraid the traitor would be standing at the side of the tub with a gun in his hand. He’d been warned. He gripped the side of the tub, dragged his bone-tired body to the bedroom, and collapsed on his bed.

  ****

  “Father? Are you not well? Father?”

  Zeke blinked his eyes and looked up into Miriam’s worried face. “What?”

  “I’ve been trying to wake you for five minutes.” Her brow furrowed. “Should I send for the doctor?”

  “I had another vision. The Lord was displeased. If I don’t start on Progeny soon, He said he’d—”

  “What?”

  “Replace me.”

  Miriam stumbled back as if struck. “Replace you? That’s impossible. You’re the Prophet, the Leader.”

  “There is someone among us who would rise up and take my place.”

  His wife’s eyes and lips narrowed. “A Judas in our midst.”

  He nodded. “We must be vigilant, Miriam, or the Chosen One will be taken away from us, and we’ll lose all we’ve worked for.”

  Fury twisted her face. “He belongs to us. I will never let anyone take the child away from me.”

  “Oh, woman of valor, I’m so blessed to have you at my side.”

  Tears filled her blue eyes. “No one will ever love you the way I do. I would do anything for you.” Her voice grew gutteral. “I’d kill to protect you and the Chosen One.”

  Zeke recalled the time when she’d come upon him and Janice. She’d screamed at the girl to get off her husband. Shovel in hand, Miriam’s vengeance had been swift, and she’d shown no mercy. He’d been terrified she’d kill him next. Instead, she pulled him to his feet and hugged him. They’d buried the body together.

  “I know, Miriam. I know.”

  She brushed a tear off her cheek and gave him a wobbly smile. “I have a surprise for you. I’ve selected one of the Mothers of the Twenty-Four for your bed tonight.” She began to turn.

  “Wait.” He called her back. “Where is she now?”

  “I left her playing with the Chosen One so she could see the importance of her role in the world to come. I think you’ll be very happy with her. Now close your eyes.” She left the room.

  “Are you ready, Father?”

  He grinned. “Very ready.”

  “Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

  A troll with a wart-covered nose, huge yellow teeth, one bulging black eye, and three pairs of tits stood before him, reeking of dead fish. He gagged and leaped up on the bed. “Woman, what kind of trickery is this?”

  Miriam frowned and glanced at the cyclopean troll, then back at him. “I thought you’d like this young woman.”

  He backed into the bed frame and grasped the wooden pole. “Can’t you see? It’s a monster.”

  “Father, you’re upsetting her.”

  He shouted, “Stupid woman, get that—that thing out of here, now.”

  “Calm down.”

  Zeke jumped down to the floor and circled
the monster, keeping an arm’s length away from it and his wife.

  “Miriam,” he called. “Where did you find this hobgoblin?”

  “What’s wrong? Are you ill?”

  The Lord warned him. Told him “another would rise.” A plot to discredit him. That’s what it was. First Ellen. Then Chita. The only logical explanation was someone was drugging him. But with what? LSD? No. Peyote. Aaron had told him some of the natives used it in their religious rituals.

  Aaron. The ever present, hard-working man at his side. The engineer who planned and built all of Edmondsville. It had to be Aaron. Was he collecting evidence against Zeke to discredit him? A hidden camera. Why hadn’t he thought of that before? Where was it? He ran his fingers across the rough walls, searching for holes, nooks, crannies, anyplace a tiny lens could rest. Nothing.

  “What’s going on?”

  Somewhere in this room a technological termite was eating its way through the foundation of his life. He looked up and saw a hole in the ceiling. That had to be it. He pointed upward.

  “They’re watching us.”

  Miriam pushed the troll out of the room. “What are you talking about?”

  He whispered in her ear. “The Lord warned me, told me we had a traitor in our midst. Someone is putting peyote in my water.”

  Her eyes widened, and she sucked her breath through her teeth.

  “I think it’s Aaron.”

  “Judas.”

  He led her out of the room, into the dimly lit hallway. “Trust no one.”

  Miriam’s gaze searched his face. “What should I do now?”

  “Take the girl back to the Crèche.”

  His wife nodded. “Yes, Father.”

  She entered the baby’s room and emerged holding a lovely young woman’s hand. Aaron would pay for his treachery. But first Zeke had to expose him to all of Edmondsville as a traitor.

  Chapter Eleven

  Angie shaded her eyes against the red glare of the late afternoon sun, chambered a round in the 300 Win mag, raised the Remington 700, and adjusted the butt on her shoulder. She was happy to see that it had a muzzlebreak to lessen the recoil. Big bullet. Big kick. It would not be fun. She peered through the scope and focused on the line of beer cans in the distance. Finger resting alongside the trigger guard, she sighted the weapon, readjusted her position, and felt the tickle of Tio’s breath on the back of her neck. Someone had garlic for lunch. And something was bumping against her butt and it wasn’t a banana. Blech. Enough of this crap. She stepped back and stomped on his foot.