The Blood We Spill: Suspense with a Dash of Humor (The Letty Whittaker 12 Step Mysteries) (14 page)

His eyebrows rose as he took in the disrupted party
atmosphere. When his gaze settled on Baara, the young woman began to fidget.

“We didn’t eat any cookies, Justus.”

“Oh, Baara,” Rachel sighed.

Jala and Talitha plunged into lunch preparations,
talking in emphatically innocent tones. Justus looked amused.

“But I said we didn’t,” Baara whined.

“Did you save me any of the cookies you didn’t
eat?” Justus said, grinning. The playfulness lit up his face.

“No,” Baara said. “I was hungry.”

Justus turned to me, still smiling. “Gabriel sent
me to show you how to care for the dogs. Are you good with animals?”

“I’m a quick study.”

“That’ll come in handy,” he said, making it sound
faintly sexual. He backed to the door, keeping his delft-blue eyes locked on
mine. “You comin’?”

Uff da
.

Chapter Thirteen

I
like dogs. In
fact, when I was little, we had Bruno, a happy-go-lucky German shepherd mix
that my dad used to sneak in the house when mom wasn’t looking. When we had to
move off the farm, Bruno mysteriously disappeared. I’ve had commitment issues
with canines ever since.

Justus led me around to the back of the barn to a
chicken-wire enclosure that served as the kennel. The howling started before we
turned the back corner, and at our approach, a roiling mass of fur and
slavering tongues churned the dirt in front of the latched kennel doors. My
original count of ninety-seven dogs tapered down to five as the mutts sorted
themselves out. A fat, floppy Basset and her mini-me beagle sidekick were
responsible for the ear-splitting baying. Leaping and cavorting duties had been
delegated to a lab mix, a leggy boxer, and a frenzied, bald rat. No, wait.
Chihuahua.

“Settle down.”

All but the beagle obeyed Justus. Fat Basset
rolled on her back, belly up, wiggling like furry Jell-o. The other three sat,
tails kicking up dust as they wagged their pleasure. Justus opened the door,
the pack piled out, and the hysteria amped up again. Justus ignored them and
headed to a covered plastic barrel next to the barn wall. The group divided
their loyalties—the boxer and Bassett fawned at my feet while the other three
made concerted leaps at Justus as he scooped dry food out of the barrel into
six dented metal bowls.

Wait a minute. Six?

“Are we missing someone?”

Justus didn’t hear me over the din, so I shouted
my question again. In answer he whistled shrilly and pointed to a separate
kennel I hadn’t noticed before. A black-and-white mass of compact muscle popped
to its feet at his whistle. Pit bull. Oh, joy.

I was abruptly deserted as Justus spread the bowls
out on the ground. The silence was broken only by the slopping sounds of dogs
eating and measured panting from the still-unfed pit bull.

“Here, Domino.” Justus approached the enclosure
and slid the bowl through a slot in the door. “He’s a good guy, but most people
are afraid of him. Just slide his food under and leave him alone.”

Leave him alone. Can do.

“Why are all these dogs here, anyway?”

“Domino belonged to Enoch. I’m not sure what
they’re gonna do with him. Maliah don’t want him. Most of the others are
strays. We let them have the run of the property during the day, but Baara must
have forgotten to let them out this morning.”

“Does someone walk Domino, then?”

“He runs at night,” Justus said with an evil grin.
“So don’t go wandering around after dark without an escort. Of course, you
could always call me…”

“Right,” I said. And who would protect me from my
escort? I cleared my throat and hurried on. “Um, what am I supposed to do
exactly?”

“Feed them twice a day. Baara takes care of the
kennel mess.” He lips tipped up as relief flooded my face.

“I’m lucky Maliah didn’t assign that particular
chore to me as well,” I said.

“She probably wanted to. She gets worried when
pretty women join up.”

“Why should she care? She’s gorgeous.” I spoke
quickly to cover my blush, but he wasn’t fooled.

He leaned against the kennel. Then smiled and bit
his lower lip. “She’s not as pretty as you,” he said.

Without warning, Eli rounded the corner of the
barn. I jumped as if I had been goosed. He eyed the two of us, his face a
careful blank. Justus stiffened, and a subliminal tension hummed between the
two men.

“Filling her in?” Eli asked without taking his
eyes off Justus.

I felt like a post.

“Just doing what I’m told,” Justus said. “Being a
good soldier.” Straightening up, he tossed another smile, laced with impudence,
at me. “I’ll see you later,” he said to me. Brushing past Eli, he walked
away.  

“What was that all about?” I asked.

For an answer, I got squinty eyes, a headshake,
and a sigh. The trifecta expression of an exasperated male.

“What?”

He merely said, “Maliah won’t be able to finish your
orientation. Father sent me instead.”

“You’re going to instruct me?”

Eli’s eyes dropped and skimmed my body in a visual
caress. That slow, heated smile I hadn’t seen in a while reappeared. His eyes,
dilated, came back to meet mine. My girl-parts twitched and woke up from their
enchanted sleep.

Not wanting our first coupling to be fast and
dirty in back of the dog ken… Well, wait a minute…

No. Although the thought held certain attractions,
the smell of dog poop ruined it.

“I… um… I’ve got the handbook. What else do I need
to know?”

Eli took a deep breath. “Well, you might want to
know that the cops are investigating Enoch’s disappearance before you go
sneaking behind the barn with the church Romeo.”

“Really? How come?”

“I don’t know all the details. Apparently,
something was off about his hotel room in Vegas. Maliah said they were asking
questions about how he traveled there. Car? Plane? Did her credit cards show
any purchases? Of course, she doesn’t have credit cards, and she claims Enoch
didn’t either. Father forbids them.”

“What do they mean by ‘off?’” I said.

“Like I said, I don’t know details, but they’re homicide
detectives. They’re coming back tomorrow to do interviews.”

“You got an alibi?”

More squinty eyes.

“Maybe they’re just getting background or
something,” I said. “Why would they think it had anything to do with the Elect?
There has got to be a few murders every day in Vegas.”

“From what I can tell, it was the way he was
killed that made it look personal. And before you ask, they didn’t give
details. But we called Cozbi to see what she can find out.”

“Why Cozbi?”

“She’s an out-worker. A police dispatcher, so I’m
not even sure if she can come up with anything. But in the meantime, you need
to be careful. Let Beth know, if you can. I’m sure it’s going to spread like
wildfire soon enough anyway.”

“Does this have anything to do with Maggie?”

“Not that I can tell. Enoch had a lot of women
panting after him, but I haven’t heard that he was involved with Maggie. In
fact, I can’t find anything about Maggie, except that she’s still with the
Elect. I’ve seen her twice, here at the cafeteria and once talking to Father,
but I wasn’t able to talk to her. Haven’t seen her since.”

“But how can someone be so elusive in this place?”

“Megiddo may not be the only compound. Father has
hinted that he has other properties. Besides the commercial ones, I mean. I
haven’t been able to find out where. One of the members is a real estate agent,
so I’m trying to see if I can pick up anything from her. See if you can get
assigned to the office.”

“So far, I’ve only been assigned the dogs and
waitressing.”

He finally grinned. “Little bit of a come down?”

I shook my head. “Not a problem. I love dogs and
always liked waiting tables.”

“You’re so versatile.”

With that, he pulled me close and bent in for a
kiss.

T
he kitchen was
deserted when I went back. I missed lunch. Wrestling with temptation for all of
five seconds, I raided the pantry searching for sugary, high-fat, high-carb
goodies and came up empty and irritated. I finally settled for an apple and
headed back to my room.

After spending the afternoon listening to my tummy
rumble, reading the Elect manual, and making up lies to put in my confession
journal, I made sure I was the first one through the door for supper. I wasn’t
the only one eager to get to the dining hall.

In contrast to this morning, the mood was somber.
All speculation was adamantly squelched, however, as Moses and several of the
higher-ranked males patrolled the tables. They informed us that the Peace
lectures in town were canceled but that there would be a community-wide service
at Megiddo in its place. Mandatory attendance. Even Maliah’s presence was
required, though she had placed herself in seclusion. Rumor had it that she was
laying around in bed, reading. Grief didn’t seem to be affecting her appetite
any, judging from the few scraps left on the plate Jala had sent up to her
room. In order to hang around the hall, I volunteered to wash dishes. I had
hoped to be able to talk more freely in the back, but Moses stationed Gabriel,
Rachel’s husband, in the kitchen.

Foiled again.

The industrial dishwasher was in the far back of
the kitchen, and it was too noisy to hear over the rinse and wash cycles,
anyway. Sweaty, dirty work too, but I looked helpful and I was able to scan the
front whenever I went to get the bus pans. I learned long ago in A.A. that the
way to get at the heart of any organization was to volunteer for the scut work.

After cleanup, I followed a group up the road past
the barn to the temple. I hadn’t seen the building yet and was curious what, if
anything, it would reveal about the nature of the Elect.

Philadelphia House, although most just called it
‘the temple,’ was built along clean, simple lines. There were surprisingly few
religious symbols—no crosses, no stained glass and, of course, no Bibles. A
plain wooden podium sat up on the raised dais. Behind it, stood an altar draped
in dark purple silk. Seven floor-length candle holders formed a half circle
around the back of the dais.

Baara moved from holder to holder, replacing burnt
candles with fresh white ones. She came and sat next to me.

“Aren’t you going to light them?” I asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “Not till Father is ready. He
put me in charge of preparing the temple.” She spoke with a childlike pride.

“Father must trust you very much to give you these
responsibilities.”

“He trusts me with important things. Not like some
people.” She frowned at Rachel, her good mood flickering. She brightened up
when Martha joined us.

“You have a high standing, don’t you?” I asked.

Baara’s smile shone out again. “Right now I’m
third, but if Elijah seeks a wife, I’ll go back to fourth. Unless somehow they
let Maliah keep her standing. It’s really not fair if she does.”

“Can you tell me what order the men are ranked?
Except for Abraham, I’m still confused.”

“Who could blame you?” Martha said. “Like Baara,
none of us are sure of what’s going to happen. I’ll try to fill you in,
though.”

“Okay, Martha, but you’ll have to stop when I get
the signal to light the candles,” Baara said.

Before beginning, Martha checked to see who might
be in hearing range. She must have felt safe, because she continued.

“Enoch had been with Father for ages. Way before
anyone else. He was ranked second, making Maliah second in standing, but since
Father takes no wife, it’s essentially the highest position for an Elect woman.
Believe me, she knows it too. Then came Moses and Cozbi. Casper and Baara, then
Gabriel and Abigail, Dathan and Rachel, Mark and Martha, and finally Adlai and
Talitha.”

“Casper is smart. He’s the treasurer,” Baara said.

It occurred to me that nerdy, bookish Casper and
Baara made a strange married couple.

“When Enoch left,” Martha continued, “Moses moved
to second, but then Elijah came. It looks like Elijah will be ranked third,
after Moses. There were some questions about that when he first came. It’s
still confusing for us women too, because Elijah hasn’t sought a wife yet. And
no one knows what to do with Maliah. Is she still second in standing or does
she lose it altogether? And Cozbi’s standing depends on wherever Moses is
ranked. Cozbi is letting it play out, but Maliah is very ambitious.”

“If she’s sought by Elijah, she may only have to
drop to third,” Baara said.

Eli? I tensed.

“Don’t forget,” Martha replied. “It’s the man who
seeks, not the woman. Elijah is pretty hard to read. I haven’t seen him make
any—”

“But Father confirms the man’s choice,” Baara
interjected. “And sometimes they don’t even recognize who the Spirit is leading
them to, so Father has to pray for guidance and tell them.”

Martha made a sour face. “He’s certainly led some
of the men to some unusual choices. I can’t imagine Elijah would truly be—”

“Shh. It’s them,” Baara warned us in a whisper.

Eli escorted Maliah, dressed in black, down the
center aisle. Her arm was tucked in his, her body angled into his as if she
needed to be supported in her grief. It looked to me like she was resting her
boob on his arm. Beth, sitting across the aisle, caught my eye and flashed an
eye roll that spoke volumes. Eli led the new widow to a place of honor in the
front row. As he moved to leave, she grasped his arm, pulling him down to
whisper in his ear. Eli nodded to the bitch, then pulled back and exited
through a side door to the left of the dais. He hadn’t even looked for me.