Attempt to Locate

by Christy Barritt

  Moriah took the flower, with its cheerful burst of petals, from him. She had no idea what kind it was, but it was beautiful. And the thought that Gilead had been out there looking for something to give her sent a new round of delight through her.

  He really did like her. He wasn’t begrudgingly doing God’s will and marrying Moriah out of obligation. No, he wanted to make a life with her. The realization thrilled her.

  “I think it’s beautiful.” She twirled the flower under her nose. “Thank you so much.”

  “May I come in?”

  “Of course.” Moriah stepped aside, feeling silly for not asking him in sooner. It was cold outside, yet she’d kept him standing there. Where were her manners sometimes?

  Gilead’s presence filled the small space she called home, as did a spicy scent. Cologne maybe. Did Gilead wear cologne? Or maybe it was just a strong soap. Either way, he smelled nice. Really nice.

  “Have a seat.” Moriah pointed to the couch.

  As he lowered himself there, a rush of nervous energy swept over Moriah. Why was Gilead here? What did she even say now? She’d never been great at social situations. She always said the wrong thing. The improper thing.

  Her ex-husband, Vince, had reminded her of that many times.

  “Please, sit beside me for a minute.” Gilead patted the vinyl space next to him. “I don’t have much time, but I want to steal a few minutes of alone time with you.”

  “It’s a good thing Ruth isn’t here, then.” Was Moriah fishing for information? Maybe. Or maybe it was just good conversation. The lines seemed so blurry sometimes.

  Or what if Gilead had sent Ruth out into the community? She’d overheard him talking once, telling someone that they had their own spy in town who would keep them abreast of everything going on there. She had no idea who that person was. But she did know that Gilead tasked certain members of the community with jobs that required them to leave this compound.

  She hoped he never gave her one of those tasks. She liked it here behind these fences where she could feel safe.

  Gilead studied her face. “I sent Ruth away because I thought you could use some space. That we could use some space.”

  Her cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”

  The smile left his gaze and traveled down her neck to her shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

  Truthfully, the wound had kept Moriah awake all night again. It hurt so badly. Every time she moved. Every time her shirt brushed across it. Every time she thought about it, for that matter.

  She’d cried as she’d lain in bed, and the only thing that had kept her hope alive was Gilead. All this would be worth it if she could be with Gilead one day, if she could earn his love and respect. If he deemed her worthy.

  “It’s . . . I’m fine,” Moriah finally said. If she told the truth then she might seem like a complainer. Or like she didn’t have faith. She didn’t want Gilead to think less of her—like Ruth seemed to—so she needed to stuff down her real feelings.

  “May I see it? See how it’s healing?”

  Moriah’s breath caught at the thought of Gilead seeing her bare skin. “Of course.”

  How could she say no? Gilead was to be her husband. Having him examine her bare shoulder shouldn’t feel so intimate or sinful. She was making a bigger deal out of this than she should.

  She turned from him and tugged her shirt down, trying to conceal the pain from her expression. But she couldn’t squelch the small gasp that escaped.

  Gilead let out a grunt behind her. Her skin caught fire as his fingers touched the area around the wound.

  “It looks . . .” he started.

  Moriah held her breath.

  Waited.

  Anticipated.

  Horrible. He was going to say it looked horrible, wasn’t he?

  Or that Moriah needed medical attention because it was worse than he’d thought.

  “It looks . . . absolutely beautiful, Moriah,” he murmured.

  The air left her lungs.

  Beautiful?

  What?

  Really?

  “Does it?” Moriah finally said.

  She wished she could get a better look at it. that she could also feel confident that it was healing instead of infected. That she could think of it as a mark of splendor instead of pain. She just needed to change her perspective. Gilead had talked about that yesterday during his motivational talk after breakfast.

  “Yes, it does,” Gilead murmured. “It’s a sign of your loyalty. What could be more stunning?”

  His words washed over her.

  This pain was worth it, Moriah realized. It really was. She just had to look at the big picture. To remember it. To cling to it. She’d been so narrow-minded over the past few days.

  Just as the thought entered her mind, the pain in her shoulder intensified as fire seemed to shoot down her skin. She let out a cry.

  What had happened? Was Gilead . . . had he touched the tender area where the metal had burned her skin?

  He pressed on it again until Moriah moaned, her entire body bending forward with agony.

  “There, there.” His voice sounded tender, like he was soothing a teething baby. “I was just seeing how well it was healing.”

  “I . . . I didn’t think you were supposed to touch wounds. Especially not until they scabbed over.”

  “You can trust me, Moriah.”

  “I . . . I know.” She did trust him. But his touch had hurt. It had hurt so much. So very much.

  “Look at me, Moriah.” Gilead nudged her around.

  Her tear-filled eyes met his, but she said nothing. It was all she could manage to hold back the sobs that wanted to escape.

  “Tell me you trust me.” Gilead rested his hands on her shoulders, dangerously close to her wound again.

  Moriah could hardly breathe as she silently begged him not to reach farther, deeper.

  “I trust you.” But her words came out as a quivering mess.

  “Say it again, Moriah. Tell me that you trust me.” Gilead’s fingers dug into her skin.

  Tears rushed to her eyes again. Moriah trusted him, right? Or did she just want the pain to end?

  You trust him. You trust him, Moriah. Say it!

  “I . . . trust . . . I trust you.” The words stammered from her lips.

  Finally, approval filled Gilead’s gaze. “Good.”

  Moriah waited for him to drop his hands from her shoulders. Instead, his fingers crept backward. He touched her wound again, and pain screamed through her. More tears flooded down her cheeks.

  What was Gilead doing? Why was he putting her through this?

  “This is a good reminder of how we must suffer for the cause,” he told her, a strangely intense look in his eyes. “You know that suffering produces a stronger faith, correct?”

  Moriah tried to pull back her tears but couldn’t. “Yes, I know.”

  “Even small things—things like this pain you’re feeling now . . . it can help you grow. Do you understand?”

  “I understand.” But Moriah wished more than anything that Gilead would stop touching her shoulder. She’d say anything to appease him. To make him stop. To make the burning agony across her skin end.

  “You’ve never been more beautiful than you are right now,” he whispered.

  The intense look left his gaze and instead he stared into her eyes with that dreamy, hypnotizing look that Moriah had thought existed only in movies.

  “Do you understand that, my love?” he asked.

  Moriah nodded, but her insides were a mess of emotions. She wanted to believe Gilead. Yet his words and actions didn’t mesh. The two met in a confusing clash of currents.

  “I’m going to make you into the perfect wife.”

  Moriah swallowed hard, uncertain if she’d heard him correctly. “Make me?”

  Gilead tilted his head, all the hardness gone from his gaze. “I mean guide you. All the traits are already there. You just need a little help achieving the right balance of it all. You
understand?”

  “I . . . think.” Her head was still spinning. Gilead had misspoken. He wouldn’t try to change her. He’d only encourage her to be her best . . . right?

  His hand slid down her arm until he grasped her hand. “Moriah, the person I’m with . . . she has to be a good example for everyone here. Not just any woman will do. The choice has to be perfect.”

  The choice. But . . . “I thought God told you to marry me?”

  Gilead smiled. “He did. And He knows what He’s doing. But that doesn’t mean we can’t take steps to be proactive in how things turn out. Do you understand?”

  “I think.” She had to stop saying that, like she had no brain to formulate other thoughts. Yet, her mind wasn’t working like she wanted. She was just trying to comprehend everything and . . .

  “Don’t be scared, my love. This is going to be good. It’s all going to be good. And, with you by my side, we’re going to conquer the world and show them the light.”

  We’re . . . he’d said we’re.

  Gilead believed in Moriah. He believed in them.

  The thought of being by his side while in front of his followers. Of being on the forefront of change. It thrilled her beyond belief.

  Because she was the girl people had said wouldn’t amount to anything.

  She would show them—she’d show everyone who’d ever thought less of her. Who’d scoffed at her. Looked down at her.

  She was going to be the girl with the successful, handsome husband. The girl who was a world changer. The girl who had everything.

  Moriah would show all those people who’d pitied her.

  And she would do whatever it took to make that happen.

  Chapter Thirteen

  With her crew still out monitoring the island the next morning, Cassidy sat at her desk and tried to gather her thoughts.

  There was nothing else she could do, as far as finding these robbers. Not yet, at least. Law enforcement was still waiting to hear about the autopsy. Still waiting for the fingerprint results. Waiting for anyone who might come forward with information. Still hoping the men might try to escape the island and be captured.

  Until any of those things happened, all Cassidy could do was work on her official police reports, give the mayor updates, and try not to be bothered by her aching body.

  Needing a break, she pulled out the print copy of those text messages Kaleb Walker had received from his sister. Cassidy had promised that she’d look into Lela’s disappearance when she had the chance. But she did have to wonder if this girl had really disappeared or if she’d simply left. If she’d left on her own, then this would be a waste of Cassidy’s time.

  Unless she did some digging, she wouldn’t know.

  Taking another sip of her coffee, she picked up her phone and dialed Lela’s mother’s number. That seemed as good a place to start as any.

  A moment later, Lela Walker’s mom, Heidi, answered. Cassidy explained who she was and said she needed to ask a few questions.

  “Of course,” Ms. Walker said, a thick West Virginia accent to each of her words. “Please do. I want to find Lela also.”

  Okay, this was a good start. Her mom was worried also, so it wasn’t just Kaleb scheming something. “When was the last time you saw your daughter?”

  Cassidy leaned back in her chair and took a long sip of coffee, interested in whatever Ms. Walker might have to share.

  “I last saw Lela about eight months ago. She told me she’d joined this movement that a man named Anthony Gilead had started. I think they’re calling themselves Makirites or something. I could tell by looking at her that she was infatuated.”

  “Infatuated with who?”

  “With this movement. But mostly with Anthony Gilead.” Her mom paused. “I never liked that man.”

  Cassidy understood the sentiment. The man gave her the creeps also. “Did you actually get to meet him?”

  “This was before his followers separated themselves from the rest of the world. He was doing revivals in the area, and Lela brought him over to the house, and he tried to convert me to his way of thinking. I didn’t want anything to do with it and told him to leave. Unfortunately, Lela decided to leave with Gilead.” Her voice faded with what sounded like grief.

  Cassidy’s gaze fluttered to Lela’s picture, which she’d left sticking out from beneath her desk calendar. “And you didn’t hear from her after that?”

  “No, I still talk to her on occasion. She’ll pop back in to check on me. But not recently.”

  Cassidy grabbed a pen and tapped it against her desk as she thought things through. “I’m still trying to reconcile how Lela went from joining the movement to marrying Anthony Gilead and your son also becoming a part of the group.”

  “Sometimes I still try to reconcile all of that also. Kaleb hit a hard time in his life. He’d just graduated from law school, and he should have been on top of the world. He’d passed the bar and had gotten a job at a great law firm here in West Virginia.”

  “What happened to change things?”

  “My youngest son, Brandon, was busted for drugs. Kaleb tried to pull some strings and get him off, but it didn’t work. In fact, they said that Kaleb had broken the law and he could lose his license to practice law.”

  “How so?”

  “Kaleb lied. Said he was with Brandon on the night Brandon was accused of selling drugs. But he wasn’t with him. Brandon didn’t have an alibi. It was serious enough that the prosecutor took action.”

  “That’s horrible.” And it showed her a different side of Kaleb—a more human side. The man must have later taken the bar here in North Carolina, though. Cassidy had checked into it for the previous case involving Kaleb.

  “It’s been a horrible year. In so many ways. My youngest son spent three months in jail. When he got out, he disappeared with his no-good friends. I haven’t heard from him since. Kaleb struggled after all of that happened. He took all of it hard.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “Lela introduced him to Anthony Gilead. I thought he’d see through the man, just like I had. But, the next thing I knew, Kaleb was going to meetings. This Gilead guy had become his friend. And he had this new light in his eyes, like things were looking up. I couldn’t understand it. But, honestly, I thought it was a phase, and it would pass.”

  “I guess it wasn’t.”

  “No, Kaleb became even more stringent about things than Lela had. About seven months ago, Lela called and told me she’d married Gilead, and they planned to go away together to start a new community for his followers. I asked if Kaleb was going as well, and she laughed. She told me, of course. And then they were both gone.” Ms. Walker let out a cry. “I’ve lost all three of my children. I just don’t know where I went so wrong.”

  Cassidy’s heart panged with compassion. She thought about her own mom and dad. Her dad had recently had a stroke and was trying to recover. Cassidy couldn’t be there with them, but she understood how painful these family situations could be. Ty’s mother was also being treated for cancer.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Walker, but I’d like to help you find Lela. I’ve talked to Kaleb. I can verify that he’s alive and well and living on the compound at Gilead’s Cove here on Lantern Beach. I want to find Lela as well. My understanding is that she left Gilead. Is that correct?”

  “Yes, it is. She called me crying one night about five months ago. Told me that living at Gilead’s Cove was horrible and nothing like what she thought it would be. She wanted out.”

  Cassidy straightened in her seat as Ms. Walker’s words rolled over her. “Where did she call you from? I thought Lela couldn’t have a cell phone there.”

  “Apparently, Gilead had one, and Lela snuck into his office to use it one day. I told her that I would come get her.”

  Good for Lela—but it was just proving to Cassidy that Anthony Gilead was trouble. “What did she say?”

  “She said that I couldn’t come to get her yet. Told me I would never make it onto the c
ompound and that she had another idea.”

  “And then?” Cassidy could hardly breathe as she waited for the story to continue. These insights were just what she needed to get into the mind of Anthony Gilead.

  “And then I didn’t hear from her for another week. I didn’t know what to think or if I should call the police. I mean, being a part of a cult isn’t a crime, right? That’s what I was told. And she went willingly. They didn’t force her into this life.”

  “That’s correct.” Cassidy wished that it was a crime. She wished she could find a reason to bust these guys.

  “Finally, Lela called again. She said she’d hitchhiked off the island and had made it up to the northern Outer Banks. Corolla or something? She’d bought a new phone, and she’d found a job at a store there. She wanted to stay for a while and get herself back together. She said Gilead didn’t know where she was and that he would have no way of finding her.”

  “And you believed her?” Cassidy had more confidence in the man than that. He was charismatic and could get people to do his bidding.

  “I figured if Lela didn’t have a car of her own and he didn’t know her new number that Gilead would have trouble tracking her down. Maybe it was wishful thinking.”

  Cassidy didn’t say anything. Anthony Gilead was a pretty resourceful person.

  “Anyway, Lela called from time to time. She seemed like she was doing well for a while. She liked her job. She’d made some friends. She loved living at the beach. She said she was going to stay for a while.”

  “Did she ever say she was going back to Lantern Beach for some reason?”

  “No, she didn’t. Did she tell someone else that?”

  Cassidy chewed on her lower lip a moment. “Everything is speculation at this point.”

  “Chief Chambers, Lela has always had a rebellious side. Her dad died when she was eight, and she was never the same kid after that. I think Anthony Gilead filled some kind of need in her life.”

  Cassidy absorbed that information. Somehow, it didn’t surprise her.