The Prophet (Ryan Archer #2) (21 page)

“Hello, Mr. Webb,” Townsend said. He seemed warm and affable. “I’ve spent the last hour with Karla, and she clearly has what is called PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.”

Webb nodded. “I’m familiar with it.”

“Good,” Townsend said. “I’m going to suggest that she not return home with you just yet, given that the situation with your children is ongoing. This could only serve to upset your wife even further, and trigger her to experience the trauma of their abduction all over again.”

“What are you suggesting I do with her?”

Townsend smiled warmly. “With your permission, I’d like her to be kept under hospital care at least until the end of the day, where she can receive close medical supervision. I’ve spoken to Karla, Mr. Webb, and I can assure she is alert and talkative and she is obviously a highly intelligent, charismatic woman, and she will be fine, but psychological trauma of this nature needs to be handled as delicately as possible.”

Webb sucked in a breath and glanced out through the glass wall. Then he nodded. “Okay,” he said, “I understand. Thank you, Mr. Townsend. Is it all right if I speak to her?”

Townsend nodded. “Yes, of course.”
 

TWENTY-NINE

Tatum couldn’t remember exactly when it started. Looking back, it seemed like one day she woke up and went outside into the sunlight and had suddenly felt very afraid. But she didn’t understand why. She had stood on the sidewalk, tears filling her eyes, suddenly trembling. She had tried to go about her day as usual, but nothing felt normal. So she had run back inside the house, shut her bedroom door, turned out the lights, and hid beneath the covers of her bed.

The doctors told her there was nothing wrong with her. The fear was in her head, they said. The sunlight couldn’t hurt her any more than it hurt anyone else. But that didn’t help dispel her fear.

She had now lived this way long enough that it was a way of life. She couldn’t imagine feeling normal, because she had forgotten what normal felt like.

But today was different. Today, for the first time since she was a little girl, Tatum felt
normal
. She was wearing normal clothes and had stood outside in the daylight and not been afraid at all. It was a miracle. She had been afraid of Silas, but he had simply talked to her and looked into her eyes, and suddenly all the fear had simply gone away. She didn’t know how to explain it.

 
Tatum had been thrilled to see her father, to talk to him and show him that she was healed. But she had been taken away before she’d gotten a chance to hug him. Alexander had ridden in the car with her and now they were back at the church.

Alexander walked with her. They held hands.

“I’m very proud of you,” Alexander said, smiling.

Tatum smiled up at him. But she was also confused.

“When can I talk to my dad?” she asked.

“Soon, I hope,” he answered.

“Will he be coming here?”

Alexander nodded. “I believe so.”

This excited her. She wanted to give a personal tour of the church, show him her room. Her father was a big deal to the people outside the church, but inside these walls she had been told that
she
was the big deal. The thought made her feel happy inside. She wanted to impress him.

“I wasn’t afraid at all today,” she told Alexander.

He squeezed her hand. “You were amazing,” he said. “And you don’t have to be afraid ever again.”

She was suddenly so happy she wanted to cry. She wanted to run outside and play in the sunlight, roll around in the grass, put on a swimsuit and dive into the ocean. It all seemed so impossibly exciting!

They turned down a hallway where Tatum had never been. The walls looked old, made of old stone and covered in moss and ivy. There was an odor of decay in the air. At the end of the hall was a door. The door was made of metal and looked very old and heavy. Alexander entered a code into a keypad and the door unlocked. The air beyond the door was very cool and Tatum felt a shiver pass through her body. They walked down a stairway that spiraled down and down. Their footsteps echoed. It was dark in the stairway except for brass lamps that cast long shadows across the stone walls.
 

Tatum suddenly felt very apprehensive.

“Where are we going?” she asked with a catch in her throat.

“I’m taking you to the basement,” Alexander told her.

* * *

 
In another part of the castle, Jimmy Cloud was seated in a church pew staring forward at a wall of stained glass. The stunning colors glowed with an amazing luminosity. The tapestry of cut glass depicted the narrative of Christ’s life, from birth to ascension. Jimmy had been to church only once in his life—at the age of three—and so the earthly life of the Savior was a new and profound mystery to him. His face was bathed in the warm light, his eyes staring forward as if hypnotized.

Because he was.
 

Silas had put him into a deep trance using only a few words and a snap of his fingers. It was a deep sleep though Jimmy appeared to be wide-awake.

“Do you understand who I am?” Silas asked, standing at the front of the chapel.

Jimmy didn’t speak, but simply nodded.

“Who do you say that I am?” Silas asked.

“You are the chosen one,” Jimmy said.

“What do those words mean to you?”

“That God has selected you to be his prophet here on earth.”

The light from the stained glass produced the illusion of a halo above Silas’s silver hair. He looked like a saint.

“Do you believe I am a prophet?” Silas asked.

Jimmy nodded. “Yes,” he said.

“And are you committed to serve the prophet of God?”

Jimmy’s eyes panned slowly across the panorama of Jesus’ life. He nodded again as he absorbed the narrative of the gospels. “I am committed,” he said in a flat, even tone.

“That is good to hear. Very good indeed.”

A door opened at the back of the chapel and Silas saw Alexander walk in and stand in the aisle.
 

Silas returned his attention to Jimmy. “How much of yourself are you willing to sacrifice for the ministry of God?” he asked.

“All that I am and all that I have,” Jimmy replied in the same detached tone.

Silas saw Alexander smile. Both men were please with how rapidly progress was being made.

“The church is your family, Jimmy. Do you understand this?”

Jimmy nodded once but did not speak.

“Your daughter Tatum is a member of our church family as well. How does that make you feel?”

“Very pleased. Very happy.”

Silas closed his eyes and extended his arms to their full wingspan, offering a prayer of thanksgiving and praise. Then he lowered his arms and approached the pew where Jimmy was seated. Jimmy bowed his head and closed his eyes. Silas placed his hand on Jimmy’s head.

“Old things are passed away,” Silas said, quoting the apostle Paul, “behold, all things are become new.”
 

* * *

The girl in the dumpster wasn’t Danielle Robbins. But Danielle still hadn’t turned up. Her mother hadn’t heard from her and neither had any of her circle of friends. Archer wasn’t optimistic. His gut had already told him what the facts would sooner or later prove to be true.

Archer picked up Cory Overstreet and drove her to the Hollywood Bowl to talk to the girls again. Archer and Cory showed up first. The others trailed in one at a time over the next fifteen minutes.
 

“This shit is freaking me out,” Mocha said, flattening her lips, eyes shining out from her dark skin. “I’m going home and locking the door, like
forever
.”

Lucy nodded but didn’t speak.

“What happened to Danielle?” Liz asked, pursing her lips and blowing straight blonde hair out of her face. “Has anyone talked to her?”

Cory replied, “That’s why we’re here, Liz. We need to find her.”

Archer stared at the thin, flat-chested girl. He assumed Liz was short for Elizabeth and wondered at what age the nickname had taken hold.

“Cory and I are worried about Danielle,” Archer said. “I’m sure she’s fine, but I’d like to find her before she gets hurt. So I need you guys to start calling everyone you know. Get the word out. Look under every rock in Los Angeles. Put out the red alert and have friends ask friends if they’ve seen her the past couple of days.”

“I heard what happened to that pothead friend of hers,” Mocha said, twisting her lips.

“What did you hear?” Archer asked.

“
Dead
is what,” she replied.

“Did you know her?” he asked.

“Nope.”

“Ever meet her? Any of you?”

None of them had.

“I heard Danielle talk about her sometimes, but that’s it,” Mocha said.

“What kind of things did she say about her?”

“Not much, really. Her boyfriend sold weed. That’s why Danielle hung around her, because Chad was a pothead too.”

“Chad with the Mohawk?”

Mocha nodded.

“Danielle wasn’t a fan. Said Cecile was kinda weird.”

“Weird in what way?”

Mocha shrugged. “Just weird, dude. And kinda religious too.”

“Did she go to church? Did Danielle say anything about church?”

Mocha waved him off. “I’m tapped out, man. That’s all I know.”

Archer believed it might be enough.
 

“Make those calls,” he told the girls. “Call Cory if you hear anything. And please be careful.”

Archer and Cory returned to his truck. She had commented on the shattered windshield but he shrugged and changed the subject. He called Cecile Espinoza’s mother and asked what church the family was a member of.

“Mr. Archer, I’ve never been inside a church in my life. I prayed once when I was a little girl, and just look how delightfully my life turned out.”

“Anyone in your family religious?” he asked.

“I certainly hope not,” she answered.

“Thanks for your help.”
 

The next call was to Glen.

“This is Archer,” he said when Glen answered. “Are you aware if Cecile attended church anywhere?” he asked.

“Huh?” Glen sounded high as a kite. “Like Jesus kind of stuff?”

“Exactly that kind of stuff, Glen.”

“Sure. Sometimes.”

Archer closed his eyes and drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.

“Do you know the name of the church?” he asked.

Glen was silent a moment, likely lost deep in thought.

“Uh, don’t know, man. But that dude in the Mercedes picked her up a couple times. I think she was crushing on him, man. Kinda pissed me off, you know, but at least I was the one banging her.” Glen snorted with laughter.

“The guy in the Mercedes, what was his name?”

“She called him Alexander,” Glen replied.

Archer started the truck and headed to Malibu.
 

THIRTY

One of the beefy security guys led Archer, Webb, and Cory to the deck. Shay DaVine was lounging in the Infinity pool. She was wearing next to nothing and wore it very well. Cory took one look at the tiny bikini and rolled her eyes.

Shay had never returned Rosemary’s call. Didn’t matter—Webb had managed to track her down on his cell. She was busy, she’d said, but would shoehorn them into her schedule if they’d keep the visit short. Her schedule appeared very busy indeed.
 

“Sweet way to spend an afternoon,” Webb commented, trying not to stare at the obvious places.

Shay made no attempt to make them comfortable or to accommodate them. She turned her head slightly so that they were looking into the lenses of her grossly expensive sunglasses. “Nice work if you can get it,” she said, without any hint of humor or irony.
 

Cory stood with her arms folded over her chest, a look of mild disgust on her face.

“Hello, little Tatum friend,” Shay said, flashing a dazzling smile. “Cute as ever.”

“We apologize for interrupting your day, Shay,” Webb said, “but we are concerned about Jimmy and needed to ask whether you’ve talked to him today?”

“I have not, Mr. Webb,” she said, crossing her legs at the ankles beneath the water.

“Have the two of you spoken recently?”

She titled her head back, contemplating the question. “Yesterday morning.”

“How did he sound?”

“He was stressed. He’s been stressed all week.”

“I can certainly understand that. I’d venture to say that none of us has slept well.”

There was a glass on the side of the pool. A cube of ice floating in vodka. Archer glanced at the drink. He felt Shay’s eyes on him. He ignored her. He had no interest in any aspect of the woman in the pool. To him, she represented empty calories.

“Has Jimmy been drinking at all the past few days?” Webb asked.

“We haven’t spent a lot of time to together, honestly. He’s been busy with work.”

Cory turned away, staring through the sliding door into the house. Their kid was missing, and Ken was busy being a movie star while Barbie soaked up rays lounging at the pool.

“What about drugs?” Webb asked. “With so much stress, wouldn’t seem out of the question for a man to self-medicate.”

Shay leaned forward and hooked her forearms on the edge of the pool, staring up at them, her immense cleavage on full display. “Jimmy lives a clean life. A man his age doesn’t look the way he looks by indulging in a reckless, debaucherous lifestyle, I assure you. He weighs every bite of food, and I don’t remember ever seeing him drink anything other than water or soy milk since the day I married him. I’m a bit confused by these questions. Is there something I should know?”

Webb struggled to keep his gaze from drifting to her breasts. He glanced at Archer for assistance.

Archer spoke for the first time. “Jimmy called the office this morning and spoke to Tom,” he said. “He said he had found Tatum.”
 

Shay pushed her sunglasses up on her head. Her eyebrows were elevated.

“That’s certainly good news,” she said.

Archer shrugged. “We thought so.”

“So, I’d guess they should be home any time now, right?” she asked.

“Actually, Jimmy didn’t say where they were, only that Tatum was with him and that she was safe. He told us to call off the search effort,” Webb said.