MEREDITH WASN'T A BIG town. During summer hikers, men who called sitting by the lake taking a nap to be fishing, and other tourist flooded the area. Having one or two more unknown cars in town wasn't that unusual as the black SUV pulled up in front of City Hall. Evan watched the tall, statuesque woman leave the car with just one bag, walking with purpose into the building. The way she moved with such confidence drew him to the private show, as long legs marched her right into the building and the front desk.
His heart rate increased as he got to his feet walking towards the door, spying her, wanting to know more about the stranger, and hear the voice which he knew was going to be melodic. Chastising himself for sounding like a smitten kitten with a ball of yarn, he stood behind the counter. Uncertain if he were holding his breath or simply had stopped breathing, the door swung wide as she entered. Her presence filled the room and he nearly sucked in all the air his lungs could hold.
"Hello Evan," she said. "We had a bit of delay on takeoff out of Hartsfield, but I'm here and ready to be your wife."
"I've been waiting for you," he said with squinted eyes as his secretary watched with interest.
"Let's see the paperwork, I know I have to sign a few things, then you said we'd go across the hall and see the judge, have it all notarized," Leta said, with a wide smile.
Evan's thoughts ran amok as he flipped the folder around. There were lots of blanks on the page. Leta asked for a blue pen, writing as she spoke. "Okay, Leta Feldman, bride to be, goes here," she said looking up at her soon to be husband in approximately 15 minutes. "Yes, your name is in all the right spots. Excuse me, shall you be the witness?”
"Yes ma'am, I'm Magda," she said. "I'm Evan’s, I mean Mr. Eaton's secretary. I guess you city folk call us administrative assistants."
"Magda, both Evan and I appreciate your help," she said, looking at her about to be husband whose facial expression hadn't changed. "Evan, again I apologize but we're almost out of time. The Judge's office closes at 4 and the time is 3:45. Today is it, right?"
"Uhmm, right," he said, looking over the paperwork ensuring everything was in order. Stepping out from around the desk, he offered her his arm, leading her to the judge's chambers, where they stood side by side, declaring to the town of Meredith, New Hampshire to love and honor each other in sickness and in health, until death.
"I now pronounce you man and wife, Evan, you may kiss your bride," Judge Harriman said.
Leta's cheeks warmed under her husband's intense gaze. The gold wedding band, inlaid with three diamonds she'd picked up to represent the three children she planned to give to him over the years, but she'd explain that part to him later. Intense brown eyes met hers as he lowered his head, their lips touching briefly as sparks shot through his body. Leta clung to him as if he were providing much-needed puffs of oxygen to sustain her life as his lips slanted over her mouth. The Judge clapped, Magda sniffled, and it was nearly a done deal.
"Sign here, and here," Judge Harriman said, turning the papers around. "Get those across the hall and have Magda stamp them before 4:00 son!"
"On it," Evan said, handing the documents to his assistant who slid them into the time stamper, recording for history and prosperity the marriage of Leta Feldman and Evan Eaton. The forms were added to the safe and sealed for the weekend. The time seal on the safe made it impossible to open again before eight on Monday morning, leaving husband and wife to head home. "Honey, I'll ride with you to the house, then in the morning, I'll show you around town."
"Sounds like a plan," Leta said with a smile, waving farewell to Magda and shaking the Judge's hand once more. Even held her elbow as he guided his blushing new bride down the stairs to the rental. He too waved at onlookers who gawked at the attractive African American woman as he closed the passenger door and trotted around the front of the vehicle to the driver side. A few toots of the horn, after he started the vehicle and drove around the corner, he made way for the pass, exhaling softly.
"Well wife," he said looking over at Leta, "there is so much I want to say, and can't find the gentle words needed so I'm just going to come right out and ask."
"Ask me anything husband," Leta said holding up her hand admiring the simple golden wedding band. Only one question came to mind for Evan Eaton as he looked at his very content wife. He centered his breathing, careful not to let the words come out too fast.
Evan wasn't smiling as he asked, "Who the hell are you?"
- Fin –
Now Available.
Blind Copy
Prologue
Raphael Hoyt started the drive home from Kentucky, heading to South Carolina. In more ways than one, it would have felt good to pull the trigger and take Tempest out of play, but she was really efficient at her job. She had a God given talent for stroking the right vein in a man to remind him of a small moment they shared together which made him feel important. His one moment with Tempest Fateman was shared five years ago on a dance floor.
He recalled the moment with pain and clarity. He hated pedophiles. Honestly, he hated any man who preyed upon defenseless women. Phillip, or Phil Weston, was the worst type of predator. A slimy man who took a job as a janitor at an all girl’s school and spent his nights drugging the young girls so he could have his way with them. Unfortunately, Raphael caught him in the act when he arrived to fulfill the contract.
Then people saw Mr. Exit’s face.
He’d almost gotten caught on camera had it not been for Tempest. She should have been long gone, but she stayed behind for a hair to ensure that all surfaces were cleaned leaving no trace evidence. Mr. Exit made that task difficult to complete. Phil angered Mr. Exit to the point he’d been sloppy in the execution of the task leaving evidence not only on the floors, but the ceilings, the walls and pieces of gray matter stuck in the air vents. Raphael also found himself high in his emotions, thinking about what his sister and niece had endured at the hands of her husband.
“Mr. Exit, I’m going to break the rules this one time,” Tempest said, wrapping her arms around him, pulling him onto the makeshift dance floor she’d created. “Look at me, look into my eyes, can you feel my body against yours?”
“Yes, I can,” Raphael replied.
“Good, my name is Tempest,” she said. “I know you should only know me as Wrong Way, but my name is Tempest. Can I ask yours?”
“Raphael,” he answered, forgetting his anger momentarily, loving the feel of her in his arms. “I am Raphael.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance. Let’s finish the song, exit through the side door, and go our merry ways. The body has been staged, the cops will tie him to the other crimes, and the rest is for the history books. Our work here is done, Raphael,” she said softly, rubbing the center of his back like a mother would during a child’s nightmare, only the way that Tempest moved against him felt more like a long-lost lover reminding him of a better time.
Wrong Way was no longer a member of the Crew. She returned home and became a housewife. Her husband would get that comforting touch from her. She was his problem now.
RAPHAEL REMAINED IN Louisville two additional nights, double checking the Muldrake home for signs of the Glitter Man as well as ensuring Wrong Way’s vision hadn’t come back. Moreover, he wanted to make sure she wasn’t pulling a fast one on him pretending to be sightless. Taking to high ground, he watched Tempest feed the chickens, completely unaware a black Eastern Hog Nose snake was near her dainty feet. The well-built and overly handsome husband of hers pushed the slithery serpent out of his wife’s path, and she didn’t seem to be aware at all that she was so close to a nonvenomous snake. If there was one thing Raphael knew about Tempest Fateman, the lady didn’t care for reptiles of any sort.
Convinced of her inability to see and his inability to glean any traces of glitter near the family, he made his way down I-64, headed towards Lexington. The 10-hour drive back to Hilton Head seemed long and boring, and for a moment, he hoped for a phone call. Not that he was anxious to take a life, but
it would be preferable to listening to his own thoughts about Tempest having a family, which for the oddest reason didn’t set well with him.
Lately, it seemed to be the going trend with his fellow Technicians. A couple of years back, Mr. Mann had gotten himself a wife and kid and had recently added another one. Then Mr. Stop went to check out the wife of a skip trace and ended up in Missouri with a wife and kid himself living in a sod house with a living roof. Or at least, so he’d heard. What really chuffed his chaw was that Mr. Yield, that monosyllabic caveman, went and got himself hitched to a little lady out of Missouri as well, which is where Tempest picked up her piece of trouble that left her blinded.
“I know one damned thing,” Mr. Exit mumbled to himself, “I’m staying the hell out of Missouri.”
He drove nearly three hours before needing a cup of coffee and a bathroom break. Just outside of Red Ash, Kentucky, Raphael pulled into a Welcome Center. He usually chose the Welcome Centers that were brightly lit, on a state property, and normally devoid of too many weirdos in the early parts of the evening. The latter parts of the night he could not attest to, but at a little after four in the afternoon, making the stop was a safe bet.
The sound of a barking dog caught his attention. A tall man with a scraggly beard and suspicious eyes checked the bushes where the dog had located an object. Raphael stood next to the black SUV for a moment observing the man, who became uneasy, collecting his animal and moving back to the pickup that had mud caked over its license plate.
“Hmmph,” Mr. Exit mumbled, checking his inner coat pocket for his favorite weapon. Raphael climbed into his truck, which had the engine still running, and backed up, parking with the butt end towards the bushes where the dog had been sniffing, leaving the door unlocked. Due to his profession, the inner lights of his vehicle were disabled, lessening the opportunity to be spotted by the interior lights of the vehicle. The dog had ceased to bark, but the truck hadn’t moved, and the driver’s eyes were focused on the rear-view mirror, watching the bushes.
Raphael walked past the old truck, nodding a greeting.
“Hey, I can keep an eye on the dog if you need to run inside and handle some business. My dog can get mighty antsy if I’m gone too long,” Raphael said to the man.
“Yeah, I’ll put him on a leash. You can keep an eye on him that way. If the windows are down, he’s just gonna jump out,” the guy said, dragging his eyes away from the rear-view mirror.
“Go on, I’ve got him. What’s his name?”
“Butchy. I’m Theodore,” the man offered.
“Nice to meet you, Theodore. I’m Ian,” Mr. Exit said, giving his middle name. “Come on, Butchy. Let’s take a little walk so you can water the hedges.”
“You sure you don’t mind?”
“Not at all. I mainly stopped to stretch my legs, get a bad cup of coffee, and grab a bag of chips from the machine. I’m trying to get Knoxville before nine to get 40 winks,” Mr. Exit offered.
“Great, be back in a jiff,” Theodore said, heading to the bathroom.
Mr. Exit held Butchy’s leash and walked toward the vending machines. The few bills he had in his pocket were used to score a bag of nuts, chips and a cold, sugary sweet drink. His back was to the truck while Butchy whined.
“Okay. Okay,” Mr. Exit said, walking the dog to a nearby patch of shrubs. Butchy raised his leg, providing yellow water to the plant that hadn’t asked for any precipitation. The dog, satisfied that he too had relieved himself, barked happily at his owner’s return.
“Thanks,” Theodore said, taking the dog back to the old pick up.
“No worries. Safe travels,” Mr. Exit said, taking the snacks to his own vehicle. He sat behind the wheel, placing the snack and drink on the backseat. His bladder would have to wait for the next exit, which was at the Tennessee state line on the other side of Jellico.
The turn signal clicked on as Raphael pulled from the parking space, driving down the egress, entering traffic, and merging onto the interstate. The rattle of the plastic wrapper didn’t faze him as he heard the pop of the soda can and a small mouth guzzling down the sugary sweet liquid.
“You’re safe for now,” Raphael said. “I took a chance that you would get in the vehicle once I moved it closer to you. The man was not your father?”
“No,” a small child said. “I like your voice. You have a voice like a nice Daddy that reads great bedtime stories.”
Mr. Exit cleared his throat, trying to get the child to come back on track, “Was the man planning to hurt you?”
“No, but he was going to take me to other men who would,” she said, shoving a handful of nuts into her mouth.
“Have those men or Theodore hurt you before?” he asked looking into the rear-view mirror trying to see who he was speaking with.
“Theodore is not allowed to touch me or the Mothers,” she said. “He has his own wives. I don’t have anyone but Willow Rayne and Dusty Rose. They are my nest and take care of me. You know like baby birds, with a Mommy who brings them food and keeps them warm.”
“Do you know how to get to where Willow Rayne and Dusty rose live?”
The child sounded small, hungry, and very thirsty. She gulped down the soda, making a loud burp, then opened the bag of chips. Her manners weren’t lacking as she asked to be excused for the loud gassy expulsion of air.
“Sorry, but I am so hungry. I don’t get to eat until after date night,” she said, frowning. “It would have been my first date night, but I didn’t wanna go. Some of the girls come back from date night very sick. Hurt. Bleeding down there.”
Raphael’s hands gripped the steering wheel. He’d heard so much of this before. Cults of pedophiles masquerading as holiness and wellness centers of the new age of people living off the grid. They were dens of iniquities preying on the less fortunate. He knew them all too well since he’d lost his sister to one in Ohio.
If it hadn’t been for the Archangel, a man very few of the technicians actually knew personally, going inside one of those cults on a late night to rescue his sister, the niece who ran track at Idaho state would have been just like the child in the back seat; a victim with no future outside of more abusive men.
“Sweetie, do you know where I can locate your mothers?” Raphael asked. He didn’t know what to expect from the kid. She sounded very small. Maybe six or seven at the oldest.
“Right outside of Pine Knot in Daniel Boone National Park. Well, not in the park, since that’s the gub’ments land, but right on the edge of it. Willow Rayne and Dusty Rose are there. He’s going to sell them soon,” the small voice said. “Willow Rayne won’t allow Him to touch Dusty Rose, although he says she’s ripe for the plucking. Willow Rayne fights hard to keep Him away from Dusty Rose. She don’t know they took me.”
“What’s your name?”
“Karli Jebsen,” she said.
“Do you have parents, Karli?”
“No,” she said softly. “My father fought against them, and they killed him a few years ago. I think it was years, I’m not that great at telling time on a calendar yet. My real mother tried to get away, and Him sold her to the men with mustaches who talk funny, but Him kept me.”
“Karli, are there a lot of men at this place where you live or just Him and Theodore?” Raphael wanted to know.
“Him. Theodore. George and Kindred, who really wants Dusty Rose. No one trusts that guy,” she said. “In the morning, Willow Rayne and Dusty Rose will walk to the Wolf Pen Creek to get water and wash clothes. I think we should meet them there and escape with you.”
“With me?”
“Yes, I prayed for help like Willow Rayne taught me to do when I was terrified, and that’s what I did,” she said. “I prayed. You pulled up and scared Theodore and I ran and hid. Butchy started barking, letting you know something was wrong, then you moved your car so I could get in it, and you brought me food. I need more because I’m still very hungry, and I need to pee.”
“Karli, I should call the police and let them h
andle this,” Raphael said, trying to see the child in the back seat.
“Why? The police come out every Friday and go into the mating hut with a different girl each week. The policeman also wants Dusty Rose, but only Him can have the girls first,” she said. “Him wanted me, but Willow Rayne wouldn’t let Him touch me either, which is why Him was sending me out for date night. I hate it there. Please help me. Help us.”
“If I am caught with you, I could get in a lot of trouble,” he said. “We may need to find someone to help me, help you.”
“I want you to help us,” Karli pleaded.
“Karli, how do you know I’m not a bad man too?” Raphael asked, looking into the rearview mirror to see her face. “I can’t see you Karli.”
She slid over in the seat. She wore a purple slip dress with daisies and other flowers covering the fabric in sporadic spots. She had caramel skin with thin braids in her hair and an adorable upturned nose.
“How old are you, Sweetie?”
“I’m 10, but Willow Rayne said on my next birthday she would make me a cake. I really like cake, but we don’t get to eat sugar,” Karli told Raphael. “That soda was really sweet and I’m probably going to start pinging as Willow Rayne calls it.”
“Karli, we need help. I need to make some calls to get a few people to provide me with more information before I get myself into a mess I can’t get out of, or these bad men will end up hurting me too,” Raphael explained.
“No, the less people the better,” Karli said. “If anybody asks, I’ll just say I’m your daughter. When you get Willow Rayne and Dusty Rose, you can say Dusty Rose is your daughter from your first marriage and I’m the one from you and Willow Rayne. We can be a family. I can go to a regular school with real friends. Please. Please help us. I hate it there.”
“So, you’ve told me.”
“We just have to wait until morning, just after sunrise. I can show you,” Karli said. “I can ease in and tell them we’re being rescued, they follow me back to the truck, and we’re outta there!”
Becoming the Czar Page 23
