Traci reached out and touched his cheek. “I think you’re stressing too much.”
“I know but how can I not? Given what happened to Paul-”
“Not Paul.”
“And Sandra-”
“Not Sandra.”
“Yes, Andrew and Sadie.” Mark stopped abruptly and stared at Traci for a moment. “Is it all as absurd as it seems?”
“Yes, and then some. But that doesn’t mean it’s not all a very real problem.”
“What do I do?” Mark asked.
“About the nightmares or Darren?”
“Both. Either. All of it.”
“Maybe it’s about time we got our whole tribe focused on solving the whole mystery of Not Paul once and for all,” Traci said.
“Every time I think we have something else comes up.”
“Which is why we need to put our best people on this instead of keeping them on the sidelines.”
He sighed. “You’re probably right.”
“Of course I’m right,” she said with an impish smile.
“The only problem is that right now our best people have more pressing matters to deal with.”
“Like how Joseph’s going to kill Geanie.”
“That’s still not funny no matter how many times someone says it,” Mark growled.
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s just a very scary situation and sometimes making light of that is all we have to keep us sane.”
“I get that, but I still don’t like it.”
Traci leaned forward and kissed him. The kiss ended all too quickly as far as he was concerned.
“We’ll figure out the fire thing, then we’ll figure out the secret society thing, then we’ll figure out the Not Paul thing,” Traci said matter-of-factly.
“You make it all sound so easy,” he grumbled.
“Only because you make it all look so easy,” she said softly.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Now, are you ready to try and go back to sleep?”
“Yes. I’m just hoping for no nightmares this time.”
“I’ll pray about it,” Traci said.
“Really?”
“Of course! Cindy said I can pray about anything and everything and I intend to give it my best.”
“Well, I appreciate it,” Mark said. As he laid back down and closed his eyes he realized, to his surprise, that he truly did.
~
It was after five in the morning when Cindy woke with a start. She was disoriented and it took a moment to remember what was going on. She was sitting on the couch next to Jeremiah and had fallen asleep, leaning against him while the police were searching her house inside and out for clues to the identity of the arsonist. At least, they were all assuming the arsonist was the one who had painted her house with the bloody words.
“You okay?” Jeremiah asked.
“Yes, have they found anything?”
“Not yet,” Liam called from the kitchen. “Well, except they did figure out why you were smelling the blood inside the house. The guy did a lot of painting on the kitchen windows. There’s small gaps in the frame and some of it seeped inside.”
“Oh yuck,” she said.
“Don’t worry. I’ll have someone clean it up,” he said.
“Do we know whose blood it is?” she asked, having dreaded the answer to that question for a while.
“Not yet. Forensics will be running tests to try and find out. It could just be animal blood from a butcher or something like that.”
“Or it could be human,” she countered.
“It’s going to be okay,” Jeremiah said quickly, clearly not wanting her to dwell on that.
She tried to put those thoughts to the side for the moment. “I’ve had a thought,” she said.
“Yes?” Liam asked, walking into the family room.
“What if there’s some connection between the arson’s targets?”
“There is. They’re all synagogues.”
Cindy glared at Liam. “I know that. I mean something more. Why those synagogues in particular? I mean, there has to be dozens and dozens all over southern California. Why just 2 in Los Angeles before coming here to Pine Springs? There’s lots of communities between there and here that he just sort of skipped over.”
“The synagogues are all different types, traditional, reform, even messianic, now,” Jeremiah said.
“Yes, but what if there’s something else that we’re not thinking of?” Cindy said.
“Like what?” Liam asked.
The thought that had roused her returned in full force and she sat up excitedly. “People! What if they have specific people in common?”
10
“I don’t follow,” Liam admitted. “You mean like the same family or something?”
“Maybe, but not necessarily. Hear me out. Think about the Passion Week Killer,” Cindy said.
“That was before I lived in Pine Springs,” Liam said.
Cindy paused. “Where are you originally from?”
“East.”
It was a vague answer and it threw her for a moment. Before she could say anything Jeremiah jumped in.
“He was targeting people whose names contained Oliver or derivations of it,” Jeremiah said, clearly catching the direction her thoughts were going. “He was sending a message to the man who ruined his life.”
“So, you think that the synagogues have people with similar names?” Liam asked.
“That wouldn’t be hard, there are several popular Jewish names that probably appear at most synagogues,” Jeremiah said.
“What if this isn’t just a general targeting of Jewish people and synagogues but is instead a very specific grudge?” Cindy asked.
“Okay, I’ll bite. After all, we don’t have anything else to go on at this point,” Liam said.
“Is Jeremiah’s synagogue the only one to receive a note?” Cindy asked.
“Yes.”
“Okay, then assuming this isn’t some sort of sick copycat and the real arsonist, there has to be a reason for breaking his silence, his pattern.”
“Especially since he’s been very careful up to this point not to have a discernable pattern.”
“Exactly. So, why draw the attention to himself?” she asked.
“Maybe because he knew the jig was up and we had figured out the fires were arson and not just accidents?” Liam suggested.
“Maybe, but I think there’s more to it than that,” Cindy said.
“You think he was upset at us for interfering,” Jeremiah said. “And that anger made him reckless.”
“Yes. Whatever plan or pattern is in his head, we messed it up.”
“So now for him all bets are off,” Liam suggested.
“That’s what I’m thinking,” Cindy said. “That’s why he sent the threatening note to the synagogue. For all we know it wasn’t even on his list of targets before that. After all, as you said there are dozens of synagogues in L.A. he didn’t attack.”
“Great, my synagogue’s in danger because of me,” Jeremiah muttered darkly.
“Because of both of us,” Cindy said quickly, then instantly regretted the admission. “And he figured out I’m not even Jewish so that just made him even more irate.”
“Which leads to him painting a threat on your house to get you to stay out of his way,” Liam said.
“Only he doesn’t know me very well. A stupid threat’s not going to stop me,” Cindy said heatedly.
Liam and Jeremiah both stared at her, looking somewhat surprised.
“What?” she asked.
Jeremiah actually chuckled. “You’ve changed a lot since we first met,” he said.
“You’ve even changed a lot since I first met you,” Liam added.
She flushed. “Well, a lot has happened in that time. And you’re right. I’m not the same person, but that’s a good thing.”
Jeremiah bent down an
d kissed the top of her head.
“Okay, so let’s assume the arsonist does have a pattern, a connection in his own mind and he’s not picking targets at random,” Liam said.
“Yes. And I think we should look at members.”
“Okay. In the morning I’ll fill Mark in and we’ll get membership rosters from the impacted synagogues. Then we can start searching for connections. As far as tonight I think the guys are about done. Do you want me to drop you at Joseph and Geanie’s for the night?”
Cindy bit her lip and shook her head. “No, I think I’m going to stay here. He didn’t try to break in. He was just trying to scare me. Plus with all the police activity I don’t think there’s any way he’s coming back tonight.”
Jeremiah narrowed his eyes but he didn’t object.
“I can leave some officers outside,” Liam offered.
“That’s okay,” Jeremiah spoke up. “I’ll stay on the couch tonight and we can discuss temporary living arrangements for the duration of this thing in the morning.”
~
Cindy was exhausted the next day at work. It didn’t seem like Geanie had had much sleep either.
“Aren’t we a pair?” Cindy finally asked after the two of them had traded a yawn back and forth three times.
Geanie chuckled. “As long as we get some sleep tonight we should be okay.”
The first night of Hanukkah was Saturday so a few people from the Jewish congregation were going to be there in the morning to set everything up since no one would be able to do that during the Sabbath. Cindy was glad they hadn’t decided to show up today instead.
“Did you have a chance to discuss any of the rabbi’s questions with Jeremiah yet?”
“Surprisingly, yes. We got in a few around all the other craziness.”
Geanie yawned again. “With our lives sometimes that’s what we’ve got to do.”
Cindy stifled another yawn as the phone rang and she went to answer it.
“Good morning, First Shepherd this is Cindy speaking.”
“Good morning, Cindy, this is Frida Katzen, I’m calling from Yeshua Messianic Synagogue.”
Cindy had met the other woman briefly. She was the secretary at Ezra’s synagogue.
“Hello,” Cindy said. “How can I help you?”
“I’m following up for Rabbi Abram. He wanted to make sure you received the list of questions he emailed you.”
“Yes, yes we did,” Cindy said. “We started going over it last night.”
She shook her head. Apparently, the list was going to be a topic of conversation for everyone.
“Excellent. He also asked me to schedule your next meeting. I’m looking at the week after Christmas. Do you have any availability then?”
“We should be free either that Wednesday or Thursday.”
“Great. I’ll put you down for Thursday. Does noon work?”
“Yes, thank you.”
“Perfect. Please don’t hesitate to call if you have any questions.”
“Thank you, really.”
There was a pause and for a moment Cindy thought that Frida had already hung up.
“I wanted to thank you for what you did for us yesterday. That was very brave.”
“You’re welcome,” Cindy said. “I just did what anyone would have.”
“No, not anyone. In this world when tragedy strikes there are a great many more bystanders and spectators than heroes. I know. My family has seen its share of sorrows and those who offer help are few and far between.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cindy said, not sure what else to say.
“Thank you. Well, like I said, if you have any questions, please feel free to reach out.”
“Actually, I have one question,” Cindy said impulsively.
“What is it?” Frida asked.
“You’re a messianic Jew, right?”
“Yes.”
“Were your parents messianic as well?”
Frida gave a short laugh. “Certainly not. I was raised orthodox. In college I took a Jewish history class and that’s where I met my husband. He was messianic and one of the most devout people I’d ever met. We had endless debates and somewhere through it all we fell in love and I found my savior.”
“That’s awesome.”
“Thanks.”
“Well, I shouldn’t keep you any longer,” Cindy said. “Have a great day.”
“You, too.”
Cindy hung up and then glanced over at Geanie. “That was the secretary from Ezra’s synagogue. I should have asked her if she had sent their membership roster to the police yet.”
Geanie rolled her eyes. “That’s not your job to get it out of her.”
“I know. I just want to do something to help.”
“I’m sorry about what happened last night.”
“Thanks.”
“You know you’re free to come stay with us.”
“I know. It’s just… I want to try staying at my house during a crisis. I mean, I can’t run off to your house every time something scary happens.”
“Sure you can.”
“I appreciate it. You might want to make up my usual room, just in case.”
Geanie snorted. “Are you kidding? I did that yesterday as soon as I got home from work. I marched straight in the house and headed straight for the linen closet. Joseph asked me what I was doing and I told him about the dumpster fire.”
“What did he say?”
“He didn’t say anything. Instead he helped me get Jeremiah and Mark and Traci’s rooms ready, too.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope. He believes in being prepared.”
~
Mark’s day had gone sideways. Toward the end of it he found himself in Los Angeles picking up a member roster from one of the synagogues that had been burned down. They were housed in a new, temporary building. He had to go in person because they didn’t have online records. Apparently, they liked to do things old school. Fortunately, the roster had either survived the fire or been recreated afterward. The rabbi had been kind enough to have it photocopied for him.
Mark had scanned what looked like about three hundred names for only a moment before shoving the pages into their envelope and dropping them on the backseat of his car.
Cindy’s theory was worth checking out, but he was personally hoping to assign a couple of uniformed officers to the duty of checking and cross-checking the member rosters from all the different synagogues. Fortunately, the others had been able to send digital copies which would help things go faster.
He glanced at the clock on the dashboard. He really should be heading straight back to Pine Springs. Instead he found himself cutting across town to the nursing home where Darren’s mom worked.
When he arrived he parked his car and began to stroll through the garden. He didn’t know exactly what he expected to find, but the nightmare he’d had still had him on edge.
For a moment he thought he caught sight of Darren walking toward him and he hastily stepped behind a tree. There was no reason why Darren couldn’t see him, but he’d been purposely staying out of sight every time he’d visited. Even though he was watching the kid he didn’t want Darren to realize he was being spied on.
Not spied on, he corrected himself. Looked after.
At least Darren appeared to be okay as he headed into the main building. After a couple of moments Mark walked in the direction the young man had been coming from. He hadn’t gotten very far when he came across the old lady with the chess board sitting on the table in front of her.
He planned to walk on by, but instead something urged him to stop. She looked up at him with piercing eyes.
“Hello, may I sit?” Mark asked.
“Go right ahead, young man,” she replied.
“I’m Mark,” he said, offering his hand.
“Gertrude,” she told him as she shook his hand.
“Care to play?�
�� he asked, having no other ready excuse for sitting down with her. He indicated the chess board.
“You’re my second challenger today,” she said with a chuckle. “I’m liable to get spoiled.”
“I saw you playing with Darren and I was in the mood for a game.”
“Were you really?” she asked, gazing at him shrewdly.
“Yes, although I doubt I’ll be much of an opponent in comparison.”
“Darren’s a good boy and sharp as a tack. He’s not at all like his mother, but then given that he’s adopted I wouldn’t expect him to be.”
“How do you know he’s adopted?” Mark asked.
“Because I’ve got eyes. He looks nothing like either of his parents. After I met him I asked his mother how old he was when they adopted him and she got really upset and agitated and told me to never bring that up around him.”
“So, they haven’t told him he’s adopted?”
She nodded. “It’s a mistake. Sooner or later he’ll find out on his own.” She paused then asked, “What are you waiting for, an invitation?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’re white. You move first.”
“Sorry,” Mark said, quickly moving one of his pawns.
She moved one of hers forward without even really looking at the board. Instead she was staring intently at him. He moved another of his pawns and she moved again.
“What is your interest in that boy?” she asked shrewdly.
“Nothing, just curious. You don’t see a lot of boys his age hanging around a place like this.”
He winced because it sounded bad. Fortunately, she just nodded.
“That’s true. Then again, Darren is a very special young man.”
“It sounds like it,” Mark said, moving another of his pieces.
She moved again and captured one of his pieces. “You’re not very good at this, are you? That’s okay. Darren didn’t know anything when he first sat down a year ago. He’s a fast learner. I figure give him another year or two and he’ll be unstoppable.”
Mark felt a sick twisting in his gut. He knew that Gertrude was talking about chess, but the thought of the grandson of a cult leader and mass murderer being unstoppable at anything gave him chills.
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