The other woman took one look and leaped back, ashen faced. “Mina’s father. You told me he left that day.”
“He left. I didn’t say how.”
Sister Anne glanced back and forth between the crevice and Miriam. “You killed him.”
“I had no choice. He attacked me.”
“If it was self-defense,” Sister Anne eyed Miriam with suspicion, “Why didn’t you tell someone? Why did you conceal his body?”
“What with Brother Aaron betraying him, Father doesn’t need to be troubled by this.”
“My husband did not betray Father.”
“I know you still have feelings for the man.” She patted the other woman’s arm. “But, all marriages—except Father’s—were dissolved when you joined our congregation, remember.”
The mousy woman glared at Miriam.
“Let’s put all that aside for now.” She pointed at the corpse. “We need to move him away from the Crèche. It’s not hygienic to have him around the girls.”
“What do you propose we do with him?”
“You pull him out.” She began to walk away. “I’ll go get a blanket to wrap him in.”
Sister Anne shouted, “Don’t you dare leave me alone with him.”
Miriam turned and glared at the insolent woman. “One more word out of you and I’ll tell Father you helped Aaron drug him with peyote.”
The other woman’s face drained of color. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“That’s what that Indian said to me, too, just before I killed him.”
****
Zeke paced the small room where Brother Aaron sat and glared at the man. Despite multiple beatings, lack of food, and sleep deprivation, the prisoner denied any wrongdoing.
“This is for your own good.” Zeke gripped Aaron’s shoulder and the man winced. “Save your soul. Repent now, and you can go to your execution with a clear conscience.”
Sweat trickled down the side of Aaron’s head. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
“Where’d you get the peyote?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Of course you do, Aaron.” He used his most soothing voice. “C’mon. Just between you and me.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the armed guards standing outside the door. “They can’t hear you. What if I wanted to get more of that stuff?”
The other man’s brow furrowed. “Then I’d say you were out of luck.”
Zeke’s patience was wearing thin. He’d treated this man like family. Trusted him with millions of dollars worth of gold. Given him everything he asked for. What did he get in return? Betrayal. He slapped Aaron so hard, the outline of his fingers burned on the man’s cheek.
“That’s for lying to me.”
Tears welled up in his eyes. “I’d never do anything to harm you.”
“When did you decide you wanted to be in charge?”
Wide-eyed, Aaron shook his head. “Never.”
“Was it while I was in prison?”
“I built this place for you, Father, your leadership. I serve you, only you.”
“Or was it when you saw the Mothers of the Twenty-Four?” Zeke whirled on the man. “You swore an oath of loyalty and celibacy. Did you fantasize about those young, ripe women in the prime of their sexual lives?”
Aaron shook his head so hard that sweat flew off and hit Zeke in the face. “I never thought about those girls. They belong to you, to the future of Edmondsville. Besides—”
“What?” He flexed his hands.
“My wife is the only woman I ever wanted.”
Sister Anne? That washed out, plain thing with the flat chest and skinny hips?
“You were supposed to give up all things, including marriage, when you joined with me. I’m the only man who is allowed to be married. ” A thought struck Zeke. “Was she in on it? Did she poison my food?”
“She’s done nothing wrong.”
“I bet you two have been conspiring to get rid of me. Guards,” Zeke called. “Bring Sister Anne to me.”
The big man’s face crumpled, and he sobbed. “Leave her alone. She’s innocent.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
****
The guards arrived to summon Sister Anne scant minutes after the two women had dropped the native’s body into a dry well. Covered with a slab of stone to keep people from falling in, the hole was so deep, that no matter how long they strained their ears, there was no thunk to indicate that the body had landed. Replacing the boulder had been torture. She and Sister Anne both had bleeding palms.
Miriam wiped her hands on her skirt, as she explained to the guards that the lid had been askew and she’d been worried someone might fall in and get hurt, so she’d asked Sister Anne to help her put it back.
The taller of the two men took Anne by the elbow. “Father wishes to see you. Now.”
Sister Anne pulled back. “What is this about?”
“Not at liberty to tell you. Come with us.”
Oh, no. This would never do. Not after what she’d just seen.
“Don’t worry, Sister Anne.” She patted the woman’s arm. “I’ll come with you.”
Zeke stood outside the half-open door of a small room, a smile on his face. He took one of her hands into both of his. “So good of you to join us, Sister Anne.”
Miriam knew that modulated voice and two-handed grip all too well. She’d seen him soothe mourners and disarm critics with his high touch tactics that mimicked compassion and concern. He was up to something.
“Your husband would like to see you,” Zeke whispered.
Tears spilled down the simple woman’s cheeks. “Aaron asked for me?”
Zeke pushed Anne into the chamber. “Not exactly.”
Miriam had to get in there, make sure the idiot didn’t jabber about the dead man. She grabbed the handle just as Father tried to pull the door behind him. “Let me come with you.”
“I have everything under control.”
“I know her well, I can watch her every move. Tell you if she’s lying.”
“Good point, Mother. Yes, please come in.”
The door slammed behind her, and it took a few moments for Miriam’s eyes to adjust. Sister Anne knelt at the side of a man tied to a chair. Until the bloodied person spoke through his split lips, she didn’t realize it was Brother Aaron.
“She’s done nothing wrong.”
“I have reason to believe she conspired with you to feed me peyote.”
“No,” the accused shouted. “I swear I never did any such thing.”
Zeke yanked at the woman’s gray hair.
Sister Anne cried out, “Oh, Lord, protect us now, please. We are innocent. The ones we loved and followed to this forsaken wilderness are murderers.”
Zeke raised his hand to strike Sister Anne.
Miriam’s heart lodged in her throat The idiot was about to tell Zeke what she’d done.
He wouldn’t go easy on her this time, not with all the Mothers of the Twenty-Four waiting for him in the Crèche. She had to do something.
“Father.” She grabbed his hand mid-swing. “I have a lovely surprise for you.”
Rage twisted his face as he turned. If she didn’t speak fast, she’d be his next punching bag.
“One of the girls asked for you today. Said she couldn’t wait to spend time with you.”
Hand still raised, his expression faded from anger to suspicion. “Really?”
Sister Anne sobbed and clutched her husband’s legs, too busy blubbering to blab.
“Yes, it was one of the young ones, Daniella. She has the beautiful teeth.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He ran his fingers through his steel gray hair and smirked. “Where is she now?”
“I had some things to take care of today, so she and Sister Rose are babysitting for the Chosen One.”
“You mean she’s already in our home?”
The old fool. She knew just what to say to control him. M
iriam nodded. “Yes, she’s very lovable, truly wants to please people. I think you’ll enjoy her.”
“I’m worn out from all this exertion. I think I need to rest a while.”
Sister Anne glanced up at Miriam and mouthed the words thank you.
Dim-witted cow. She didn’t do it to save Anne and her idiot husband. Miriam shook her head and shot a glance at Zeke’s back.
Fools. They were all nincompoops and fools. Even Zeke. Early on she had figured out there were no hallucinogenic drugs making her husband see beasts instead of beauties. It was Jake. He had touched each of the women before they were supposed to be bedded by Zeke. The horny old man’s vision had been turned inside out. Instead of angels, Zeke saw demons straight from hell. The baby not only healed people, but protected them from harm. She wondered how strong his powers really were. Could he stop bullets?
“Hold up, a moment Father.” She pointed to Brother Aaron and Sister Anne. “Why don’t you untie the traitor and leave his wife with him. Your food can’t be poisoned with both of them locked up.”
He motioned to the guards. “Give them both what they need—food, water, medicine. Just keep them locked up here until I decide what to do with them.”
Miriam took her husband’s hand. “Let’s go greet the future of Edmondsville.”
****
Zeke stood in the living room and shook the small brown-skinned woman’s hand. Mother was right. She did have a lovely smile. Big brown eyes. Long dark hair. The modest dress she wore did little to hide the fact that she had large, perky breasts. He could hardly wait for her to join him in the bedroom. His pulse quickened, and his mouth grew dry. First, he had to get rid of the old crones
“Mother, why don’t you and Sister Rose take the Chosen One out for a little while. I’m sure the congregants would love to see him.”
He watched as Miriam lifted Jake out of the crib and handed the baby to Daniella. The toddler cooed, leaned his forehead against hers, and patted her cheeks.
A sense of déjà vu washed over Zeke. Why was the child doing that? The girl wasn’t sick, was she? Nonsense. She was as healthy as a horse.
Miriam and Rose left with the baby, and he approached the young woman. He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her around.
He smiled and she grinned back. Her smile continued to stretch, then twisted like a rubber mask. The smile, once inviting, grew enormous, lewd and leering. Red eyes rimmed with black glared at him and bugged out of her ashen gray face. Her hair writhed with thousands of snakes. A forked tongue licked his face and burned his cheek. Her fetid breath reeked of methane and sulfur.
Stumbling over furniture, breathing heavy, he shouted, “Get back, you demon, Satan’s child.”
She hopped toward him on cloven hooves, her pointed tail whipping around her, shredding his pants and slicing his legs.
She tore at the waist of his pants and hissed, “Give it to me. Give it to me!”
He screamed, ran into his bedroom, and slammed the door.
Chapter Seventeen
Alejandro spent an hour on the satellite phone with Isabel explaining the situation. The boss lady was not happy. Failed to see how six little Indians could be of any assistance in the rescue efforts. Couldn’t appreciate their contribution to the party, until he pointed out the cliff-dwellers’ extensive knowledge of the caves. Emboldened by her silence and tacit agreement, he convinced her the cabin’s location, well out of sight of Edmondsville and its armed lookouts, would make an excellent staging area for the operation. For good measure, he threw in the fact that it was well away from her compound—so no one would ever know where she and her family lived. At last, she agreed to send Tio, Pepe, and the troops. Then, the boss lady said she was coming, too.
Now he stood outside the cabin door and watched the billowing cloud of dust rise up from behind the hilltop. Had the phenomenon not been accompanied by the sounds of giant lawnmowers, he would have thought a tornado approached. In a sense, a tempest was on the horizon: Hurricane Isabel.
A dozen ATVs and six MUVs descended upon the little cabin’s front yard blowing gas fumes, dust, and gravel in the air. Alejandro covered his eyes with his forearm to deflect the detritus. One by one, the vehicles shut down until he could hear his own voice again. “Hola! Welcome to base camp for Operation Jake.”
Isabel removed her desert camouflage helmet and shook out her long dark hair. She glanced around, her face a mixture of disgust and amusement.
“This is not what I would call a five-star hotel.”
“It’s more than adequate for our purposes.” He pointed to the nearby stream. “We have water and are completely out of sight.” The door squeaked and Angie slid alongside him. “I’m told the cult members don’t get out very often, so it’s unlikely they’ll wander through here anytime soon.”
Isabel nodded at Angie, then frowned. “What’s with the nun?”
Alejandro glanced down at the little woman who had appeared at his side without a sound. “Sister Teresa? I told you about her.”
“There’s no need for her to hang around.” Isabel flicked her hand. “She can go. Now.”
The nun bristled. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Alejandro stared at her. “You speak English?”
“Un poco.”
He wondered what else the woman had failed to share with them.
Sister Teresa continued in Spanish. “I’m staying right here until the girls are returned to their homes. If it weren’t for me, they wouldn’t be in Edmondsville, being forced to do God only knows what.”
Isabel rolled her eyes. “Tio, Pepe. Set up camp. As soon as you find the vodka, bring it to me. It’s going to be a long night.”
The nun watched the flurry of activity with wrinkled brow and pursed lips.
“Sister Teresa,” Alejandro whispered. “If you really want Senora Isabel’s help, you need to wipe that look off your face.”
She shook her head. “I’ve made a deal with the devil.”
The tone of her voice irritated him. She came to him, not the other way around. “Sister, you, of all people, should know better than to judge a book by its cover.”
She shot him a sharp look. “What do you mean by that?”
He waved Angie over. “This woman is here to tell you that her father, a ‘very religious man’ is evil incarnate.” He translated and the redhead nodded agreement. “That woman over there” he pointed to Isabel “may have crime in her blood, but she’s done more to help poor villagers in Chihuahua than the government has.”
“You call growing marijuana helping people?”
“I heard you.” Isabel strode over to the porch and joined the heated conversation. “What do you give them? Prayers? I give people jobs. There’s no market for rocks and stones. What else would you have them grow?”
The two women, one young, curvaceous and raven-haired, the other old, squat and wimpled, faced one another.
Isabel placed her fists on her hips.
Sister Teresa’s face grew red, and she took two steps closer to the cartel boss.
Half-expecting a cat-fight, Alejandro grabbed Angie’s elbow and pulled her away from the confrontation.
“Apples, coffee, wine.” The nun shouted. “That was my plan all along. It’s why the ejiditarios agreed to send the girls to go work in Edmondsville. The money they earned was going to go into the agricultural cooperative.”
Mouth agape, Isabel glared down at her now weeping opponent.
“What are you talking about?”
“The Tarahumara have plots of land, ranchos, with two or more households on them. They work together, help each other out. Mostly they raise corn, beans, subsistence farming.” She hiccupped. “There are some areas in the Sierra Madre where the natives have been able to get enough capital to buy apple trees, grapevines for wine, and coffee plants. They aren’t millionaires, but they aren’t starving to death.” Her voice hitched. “Our babies are dying of malnutrition.”
Isabel’s fa
ce softened. “Children shouldn’t go to bed hungry.” She put her arm around the nun’s shoulders. “Let’s go sit down and talk.”
Alejandro whispered to Angie, “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Or am I hallucinating?”
“I heard that,” Isabel shouted over her shoulder and flipped him the bird.
****
Over the next few hours, desert camouflaged tents popped up all over the pasture like mushrooms. Lanterns and fires glowed as the men heated up their rations. A semblance of peace fell over the troops, and Alejandro hoped the planning and training for this event would at last pay off. Tarahumara scouts were already en route to the cult compound. Once they returned with the number and location of lookouts, they’d be ready to go. But right now, all they could do was wait. Eyes half-closed, he sat in the dark and recalled the other plans his handler and the ATFE higher ups had set into motion.
Although he had argued against the idea, once the attack on Edmondsville was a go, Alejandro had been instructed to call the town tavern, El Hombre Loco, and use code to place beer and liquor orders for the fiesta to celebrate on their return. Through a tap on the seedy dive’s lines, the US-Mexico joint task force on disrupting drug trafficking organizations would learn the exact latitude, longitude, date, and time of the attack. When Angie had arrived on the scene, the idea of rescuing a kidnapped baby and capturing narcoterroristas and crazy cult members in the same fell swoop had been irresistible to his handler.
Think of all the points they could make, his handler had said. The higher-ups would be happy, both governments would win, and it was hoped, end some of the anti-Mexican sentiments inflaming the American media. Alejandro thought it was a recipe for disaster and had told his handler as much, asking him if he was trying to create Armageddon. US-Mexican relations aside, the two ATFE Special Response Teams from opposite sides of the border hadn’t been working together long enough to handle an operation of this magnitude.
He pointed out that the last thing the Mexican government should want was their very own version of Jonesville meets Waco meets Ruby Ridge. When his handler started questioning him, asking if he needed to come in from the field, Alejandro had backed down. But he just couldn’t get rid of the feeling that something terrible would happen if the new plans were set into motion. He tried to shake the premonition by thinking of other things, like Ramon Mendez, Isabel’s father. Where was that bastard?
Obsession Page 17
