Obsession (17 page)

Her hand fell away from her mouth. “How’s it coming?”

“Overwhelming. I could use your help getting it organized.” He paused.
Why not just ask her? Where was the harm in that?
“Would you like to come and see my inventory?”

Angie cocked her head to one side and raised an eyebrow. “Is that a variation of ‘Would you like to see my etchings?’”

Busted.
His face felt warm under her penetrating gaze
.
“Um. Not exactly. There are no paintings in this pile. And I know you want to stay on top of everyone. I mean everything.”
Shit. Did he really just say that?

Angie strolled over to the mountain of equipment and reached for the clipboard in his hand. “Let me take a look.”

She came in. She wanted to be closer to him. This was it, the sign he’d been waiting for.

He sidled up behind her, pretending to look at the clipboard.
Breathe, man, just breathe normally.
A tendril of her hair lifted and fell with his breath. The healthy scent of sweat from her run addled his brain. He could barely read the words on the paper. He wanted to slide his arms around her waist and nuzzle her neck, nipping at the spot between her neck and shoulder.

“So much to do.” She sighed and her large breasts rose and fell beneath the thin cotton T-shirt, calling to him to caress them, stroke them, make her nipples hard beneath his fingertips.

He inched forward, and ran his finger down the list, his forearm grazing hers. He could almost feel the crackle of electricity between them. “We’re really close, I swear. Look at all the things I’ve checked off on the list.”

She nodded, then turned without warning and handed the clipboard back to him. “You’re the expert. I have to trust you to do the right thing.”

Angie stepped out of his reach, and circled the mound of equipment. “How will you get all this stuff loaded up? Do you have trailers? ”

He held the clipboard over his groin and his growing problem. Tongue thick, brain muzzy, he could only nod and beg with his eyes.

Please, please, please come to bed with me.

“Are all the ATVs good to go?”

He found his voice at last. “Batteries and tires are all good. Extra fuel was loaded on the trailers. Everything was checked by me. I hate surprises.”

She stretched her arms upward, and her shirt rose—exposing a tempting belly button. An inny. He loved innies. He could nuzzle and play with chocolate sauce and whipped cream in the saucer of her belly for hours. He wondered if her skin felt like silk or satin? Did she wear a lace bra and panties? Or was she more practical? Cotton or some other natural fiber, perhaps? Or did she eschew underwear altogether and go commando? He had a sudden burning desire to know all those things and many more, like what her kisses tasted like and what her soft inner thighs felt like under his fingertips. He took two steps closer.
Okay, he’d go to her, he could do that.

Just as he was within reach of her, a garage door opened, and Hummer headlights blinded him. The driver honked the horn, and Alejandro jumped out of the way. Hip hop music rocked the car, then ceased as the vehicle shut down and extinguished the lights. He waved at the driver and turned back to speak to Angie—but she was gone.

Chapter Twelve

Zeke Edmonds sat on his throne and looked down at the concerned faces of his congregants. Armed followers ringed the sides of the room and stood guard at the exits. The crowd grew anxious.

Showtime.

He stood and raised his hands on high. “I call upon you to bow in prayer.”

A thousand people knelt and touched their foreheads to the stone floor.

“We are so blessed to be here in this lovely land, in our fortress high above the rivers, canyons, and those who will not survive End Days.”

He stared at his second in command’s back, wishing his eyes were laser beams that could pierce the man’s skin and make him shriek in pain.

“While I was falsely imprisoned, Brother Aaron led our flock here and established our very own modern village, with running water, solar panels, windmills, electricity, and food. During my absence, Brother Aaron made alliances with the police and politicians. Thanks to Brother Aaron, we are ready, oh Lord, ready for End Days.”

He scanned the whitewashed cavern, looking for telltale hand signals, note passing, or whispers.

“But, the Lord has shared visions that tear at my heart. I bring bad news.”

Murmurs followed his declaration.

“Arise, so I can look you in the eyes.”

Waves of whispers rolled across the group and echoed on the hard walls.

Yes, be afraid, be very afraid.

Worry creased each face.

He choked back a sob. “I don’t know where to begin.” He paused, took a deep, shuddering breath. “My heart is so heavy.” He raised his hands up to the ceiling. “Lord, I beseech Thee, take this cup away from me. Don’t forsake me.” Zeke fell to the floor. Back arched, he flailed his arms and legs.

Miriam shouted over the growing rumble of voices, “Father is having another celestial vision. Do not disturb him.”

With concern almost palpable, the crowd fell silent and waited.

No longer thrashing about, Zeke lay on his side and peeked between his lashes. Brother Aaron stood right in the front row, his brow furrowed. Was the engineer worried for Father—or was he afraid of being exposed?

“Lord, no,” Zeke moaned.

Miriam knelt beside him, the baby on her hip. “What is it Father?” She shouted. Then she whispered, “Speak up. They can’t hear you in the cheap seats.”

“The cut is too deep, the pain too much,” he shouted. He threw in a conglomerate of Hebrew, Latin, and Greek to ratchet up the tension.

The level of whispers rose again. Speaking in tongues was
always
a crowd pleaser. He had them right where he wanted them.

“No more pain, Lord, no more pain.” Zeke shuddered, went rigid, then completely still—his eyes wide open.

Miriam wailed, “No, Father, don’t leave us. We need you here, now.” She placed the baby’s hands on his face. “Oh, Chosen One, use your powers. Save your grandfather.” Jake shrieked and smacked Father in the nose.

Real tears sprang to Zeke’s eyes.
Shit. That hurt.
He took a deep breath, fluttered his lashes and asked, “Miriam, is that you?”

“Yes, Father.” She stood and lifted the baby over her head. “The Chosen One saved him!”

The crowd roared its approval and chanted, “Father, Father, Father!”

Zeke dragged himself up to his knees, crawled over to the throne, and pulled himself up to the seat. “I’ve had a vision.”

Every woman and man in the crowd wept openly—except Brother Aaron. Eyes flat, his face a mask, the man looked like a statue.

Zeke placed his right hand over his heart. “I’ve been betrayed.”

“Who, who, who?”

He shook his head. “It pains me, because it is so unfair. I asked the Lord to take me, rescue our lamb from Satan. I have to punish the traitor so others will remember right from wrong.”

Miriam shrilled, “Who amongst you has betrayed Father?”

Jake cried and shrieked, adding his outrage.

“Come forward now,” Zeke coaxed in a soft voice. “You who have betrayed me. Repent and all will be forgiven.”

Miriam raised the Disciplinarian with her free hand. “Let physical pain be your friend. Come forward and take your punishment.”

Brother Aaron glanced around the room and took two steps forward. “Father, let’s talk. In
private
.”

“So you
admit
you betrayed me?”

“I’m your strongest supporter. We need to talk about your horrifying visions—”

Induced by the peyote you fed me.
“Guards,” Zeke shouted. “Seize him.”

People melted away from the sinner.

“I’ve done nothing wrong, I’ve—”

“Gag him. I’m tired of listening to his lies.”

A guard stuffed a rag into Brother Aaron’s mouth and another bound his hands.

“Take him to the chamber of solitude where he will fast and reflect on his sins.”

The guards fell into a phalanx around the big man and marched him out of the chamber.

“Who else is involved? If you don’t tell me, I
will
find out. The Lord speaks to me directly.” One by one, he stared deep into his congregants’ eyes. They dared not speak. Fear of being next kept them in check.

“Father, let’s go back to our chambers.” His wife took his hand in hers. “You need to rest.”

He nodded. “I’d be lost without you.”

Miriam’s eyes welled with tears. “Thank you, Father.”

Zeke allowed her to lead him down the steps. The silent crowd parted to let the couple and the baby pass. Just as they were about to exit the chamber, shouts erupted.

Zeke stopped, turned, and stared at the little man standing in the entryway on the other side of the room. His bowl hair cut, bright orange shirt, white loincloth, and
huaraches
sandals left no doubt as to his origins. Instead of the usual shy, smiling expression of the Tarahumara, this man’s brown eyes blazed and his face twisted with anger. He stared straight at Zeke.

“Dónde está mi hija? Dónde está mi Mina?
Where is my daughter? Where is my Mina?”

****

Miriam struggled to suppress outward signs of her rage. She had to put on a concerned face. Play dumb. She had a better command of Spanish than she liked to let on. First and foremost, her duty was to protect the Chosen One and her husband from this savage.

“Father,” she said in a low voice, “I think it would be best if you took the baby and a few of the men and returned to our chambers.”

Zeke tore his gaze away from the furious little man. He lifted Jake out of Miriam’s arms and signaled to a cluster of unarmed, but burly men. “Come with me please.” The four men closed ranks around their leader and the child and hustled them out the rear exit.

Now that her husband and the baby were safe, she could focus.

“Sister Anne,” she called. “Could you assist me, please?”

The sea of congregants stepped aside to allow the mousy woman to scurry to Miriam’s side. All eyes were upon her now, not Zeke.
She
was in charge, the star of this particular show.

Miriam dragged Sister Anne over to the short brown man. “Offer him some food and water.”

Sister Anne translated as fast as she could.

The man’s shook his head so hard, his hair twirled in a dark nimbus.

“Ask him who he is and what he wants.”

“He says his name is Juan, and he wants his daughter, Mina.”

This guy was a one note Johnny. Whiny, too. Just like his bitch daughter.

“Tell him we sent the money to the nun. Sister Teresa has all the money for the girls.” A bold faced lie. Why not put the blame on the nun’s shoulders? Let him go back to her and demand the
dinero
. They can squabble over the pittance she handed over that day to purchase the adolescents.

He stomped his sandaled foot when Sister Anne conveyed the message.

“He says it’s not about the money,” the other woman whispered. “He was told he’d get to see his daughter every month. It’s been three months.”

Miriam cocked her head and gave the man a puzzled look. “Tell him we never agreed to let the girls go home for visits.”

Sister Anne shot her a sharp look. They locked gazes for several long moments. At last, Sister Anne looked away and translated.

Mina’s father shook his fist at Miriam. Two male congregants stepped to her side. She waved them away. “It’s a simple misunderstanding. Tell him we told Sister Teresa the parents could come
here
to visit the girls. The nun turned things around.”

A puzzled look crossed Sister Anne’s face. Miriam stared at her until the woman did as she was told.

“He wants to see Mina. Now. His wife died. His daughter is all he has.”

Miriam nodded and put on a sad face. “Oh, how
tragic
. Of course he misses her.” She turned and faced the sea of worried faces. “He’s going to see his daughter now. Everything is fine.”

An audible sigh of relief filled the large chamber. The crowd at last left Miriam alone with the visitor and her underling.

She felt as if her cheeks would break from her phony smile. “Sister Anne, could you please lead the way.”

“Yes, yes.” The other woman scurried ahead and the little man followed her.

Miriam waited a moment, and then grabbed the Disciplinarian off its hook. She tapped the wooden paddle on her palm and contemplated the situation at hand.

Brother Aaron had paid politicians and police to look the other way. But he hadn’t thought to bribe the Tarahumara. Letting the man go could endanger Edmondsville and Father’s plans. Despite their peace loving reputation, Mina’s father had a temper. If he went back, complained to the
ejiditarios
, found sympathy—well who knew?

She caught up to the native and her mousy underling in the dimly lit corridor. “Sister Anne, could you run ahead and let Brother John know we’re coming to the Crèche? They might need to tidy up a bit.”

The other woman broke into a trot, leaving Miriam alone with Mina’s father.

“Juan, we need to talk.”

He turned and stared at her, his brow furrowed.

“Yes, I speak Spanish. And I think you understand some English, so we both hid a little something from each other, didn’t we?”

Juan gave her a sly smile. “
Si.
”

The Disciplinarian felt solid and right in her hand as she tapped her thigh. She continued in his language.

“Your daughter is very important to us.”

His eyes lit up, and his chest puffed. Pride oozed out of every pore.

“Mina will make a wonderful mother.”