by Rona Jameson
He appears in the doorway with Silas, stops and stares at me, and then heads into his office. “Wren, I asked you to go to Agnes.”
“I thought I could help you in here instead,” I find myself offering, wincing as Silas turns his eyes on me. He’s not impressed.
“Whatever, I’m busy and don’t have time for this. Just stay out of my way.” The door slams but not before I catch Silas nodding his head toward the entryway. He wants me to leave.
I want to leave, but I also want to know what is going on. I’m fed up of being punished or having to watch my step, so I don’t upset him.
I’m in the church and the basement is where I saw the computers and a few men doing something to them. Maybe that is where I should start.
Thinking about going looking, I move toward the door and quickly run back to the desk. I leave a note saying I’ve gone to find Agnes. He might believe that or not, but I’m going downstairs.
Leaving the office, I lower my eyes so as not to cause suspicion. I’m always like this—I never meet anyone’s stare. To others, I’m acting like I always do—shy and awkward. Nerves flutter in my belly as I walk past the statue of Jesus Christ, a replica of the one in Rio de Janeiro. It’s always given me the creeps.
I don’t pass anyone as I move downstairs, and then I find myself standing in front of the closed door where I’d first seen Silas. The computers from school had been in there and it had looked like they were setting them up. Why they’d need all those computers in the basement baffles me. If they are doing illegal stuff, I don’t understand the need for everything they removed from school.
Leaning in, I place my ear against the door, not hearing anything. It’s as though I’m the only one in the church because there really is no sound coming from behind the door or above me. I frown and glance up toward the ceiling wondering why it’s so quiet.
Nerves are eating away in my belly and I find myself taking a step toward the stairs when I stop. I can do this. I turn back toward the door, and with determination, I raise a hand to push the door open. However, I freeze with my hand raised, distracted when I hear a loud banging noise coming from the front of the church.
Now I hear movement. Footsteps running along the hallway above me. My heart pounds, and I turn to look for a place to hide. There isn’t anywhere down here. Just the stairs and the door. More noise infiltrates my ears, so I use it to my advantage and run upstairs. Armed men come through the front door of the church wearing badges around their necks. I spot a few women amongst the men as more come inside. The word “warrant” reaches me as blood starts to pound through my ears.
What do they mean warrant? I thought Marcel was trying to get enough evidence to go to the DEA. I don’t understand what has changed from last evening.
“Wren,” snaps the Reverend.
I blink a few times and slowly make my way toward him on weak legs. I thought when anything like this were to happen, I would be with Marcel and Rafael. Not alone with all these strangers and the Reverend. I don’t trust anyone in this room.
“Wren, we don’t have all day.”
The moment I’m within arm’s reach, he grabs my wrist and pulls me into his side. “This is my daughter.”
“We’d like to talk to her,” one of the men says. “Alone.”
The Reverend shakes his head. “She’s a minor, so I have to be present.”
The man who appears to be in charge tightens his jaw. I’m surprised because the Reverend can be an asshole. However, as sheltered as I’ve been, I know that’s the law. The Reverend grins in a weird way and stands his ground.
“What are they doing?” I ask, not only surprising the Reverend, but myself. The words just blurted out of my mouth causing everyone to focus on me.
“We have a warrant to search the church,” the man says. “I’m Special Agent Ken James with the DEA.”
“Oh!” I mumble, watching them get sorted. “DEA? Drugs?” I ask, pretending I really am clueless.
“You know anything about that?” He raises a brow in question. “Because I can promise you protection for information.”
“There is nothing to find, so stop filling her head with nonsense.” The Reverend looks furious, but his voice is calm as he says, “Wren, please wait with Agnes while I make sure these agents don’t make a mess.”
He probably means, so the agents don’t touch anything not covered in the warrant.
“Yes, sir.” The man, Ken James, watches me move around him and the other agents to leave the room.
Unfortunately, for me, Agnes is already waiting in the hallway. She, too, makes a grab for me. However, I slip away. “Do not touch me. You’re not the Reverend. No one touches me but him,” I hiss, very pleased when she turns red in the face.
She’s furious. I can’t remember a time that I’ve ever spoken to her like that. It feels really good. Maybe I should have been sticking up for myself more, then I wouldn’t have found myself in this situation. Even as that thought runs through my mind, I know I’m wrong. Nothing would have changed the way the Reverend has been toward me.
“You can’t go in there,” another DEA agent states.
Agnes bristles past me. “That is my office.”
“Then you can enter and speak with the agents inside.” He glances at me, his eyes dancing. “You can take a seat.” He nods toward a row of three chairs like you’d get in a dentist waiting room—plastic and uncomfortable.
“I’ll stand,” I mumble and tilt my head to the side. “Do I know you?”
“No, ma’am.” His eyes stay on the wall in front of him. Part of me wants to slide along the wall until I’m in front of him because I really get the feeling he knows me. I don’t mean because he’s researched the Reverend, but like—
My eyes snap to his face, and I wonder aloud. “Marcel DeLacroix.”
There is a slight flicker in his gaze, which I would have missed had I not been looking for it. He knows Marcel, which is how he knows me. The man sighs, and whispers, “Please just sit and wait,” without moving his lips. “Cameras.”
I hesitate for a moment before I collapse into one of the chairs, knowing when I get up it will hurt. The plastic always sticks to my legs when I’m in shorts. What a weird thing to think about when the DEA are crawling all over the church.
As time ticks on by, I start to fidget, and wonder what Rafael is up to. Does he know what is going on here? Especially that I’m here too.
“This is upsetting for my daughter,” the Reverend hisses, suddenly moving down the hallway toward me. “I want you all to leave us alone. We haven’t done anything wrong.”
I want to say that it’s not upsetting me but think better of it. They won’t take me with them, which means I need to watch my mouth. Agent James casts a glance in my direction and refrains from saying what he really wants to. I can see in the agent’s eyes that he’s holding back, not easily either. “We’ll be leaving soon.”
The Reverend turns away from the agent and stares in my direction but doesn’t really look at me. He’s thinking about something before he snaps his fingers and moves back toward his office, the agent on his heels.
Shaking my head, I turn my attention to the agent guarding the door into the Sunday school room, and ask, “You’re DEA, right? So, are you looking for drugs, because I have to say I’ve never seen any?” I pause. “But in truth, if I did, I probably wouldn’t know it. I’ve no idea what drugs look like.”
“When we find them, I’ll show you.”
I smile. “Then maybe I’ll be able to help you find more if I know what I’m looking for.”
He shakes his head. “No, you won’t. You’ll stay safe, Wren. Marcel will have my head on a plate if something happens to you on my watch. Not to mention Rafael.” He grins before catching himself. “You tell the Reverend the truth. That you asked me what we were looking for. Nothing about helping us, though.”
“Okay.” I stare at dust that has gathered close to the baseboard opposite, and ask, “Are there c
ameras everywhere inside?”
“Yes,” he whispers, and then clears his throat. “We’re leaving.”
“What?”
“We didn’t expect to find anything.” He offers me his hand. “Just wanted to let him know he’s on our radar.”
I slip my smaller hand into his and we quickly shake.
“You’re not alone,” he says so quietly that I only just catch his words as he moves past me.
I stifle a giggle, because although those words are true, I once remember reading a book during reading hour at school and that phrase was in it a few times. Only the book referred to alien life form, not someone’s welfare.
My eyes follow the man as he strides down the hallway, and other agents seem to appear from different directions as they leave as quickly as they’d arrived. I’m so engrossed in watching them that it takes me a few seconds to realize Agnes is standing beside me. I quickly jump up from the chair. However, I’m not quick enough and Agnes grabs my arm and pulls me into her office. The door slamming closed behind us.
She releases my wrist and gets in my face. “I know what you’re doing, Wren. You and that boy next door, or should I say man? The Reverend knows all about Marcel and Rafael DeLacroix, so I suggest if you care anything for them, you’ll stay away.”
“Get away from me,” I hiss and shove her backwards.
“You little—”
“Wren,” the Reverend shouts, opening the door and pushing me toward Agnes.
Managing to sidestep at the last minute, I catch myself before I fall to the floor, and then rush to the Reverend’s side. He blinks in surprise and frowns before turning his eyes on the evil woman.
“What is going on in here?” he demands, his voice dripping with menace. “I’ve told you to leave my daughter alone. No one touches her.”
“Does Wren know that?” she sneers. “You know she’s letting Rafael touch her. Yet you do nothing.”
The Reverend looks ready to blow a gasket from how red his face is with anger. “I know nothing of the sort!” he roars. “You will stay away from Wren.”
He grabs me tightly around the top of my arm before dragging me from the room. He’s moving so quickly along the hallway that I stumble into the wall. It makes him angrier. Outside in the bright sun, he slows and looks around. Then we’re off again and my feet hardly touch the steps at the back of the church as I’m dragged down them.
“You’re hurting me,” I cry, unable to prevent the sob from leaving my mouth.
“Do not say a word to me, daughter.” He yanks on the car handle and curses when his hand slips off. He gets it on the second try and pushes me into the seat. “Get in, Wren,” he snaps.
Terrified of what is going on, I tuck my legs into the car and curl up on the seat. The Reverend stares and I find I’m unable to move. He hisses and, leaning over me, snaps the seatbelt on. Seconds later, we’re off down the road.
37
RAFAEL
FIVE MINUTES before the DEA arrived at the church, Dad received a message telling him what was about to happen. It hadn’t been enough time for me to get Wren out of the place. I probably would have had time if I hadn’t spent it arguing with Dad. Of course, we’d been arguing about Wren.
The binoculars have been glued to my eyes from the moment the black cars and one van had pulled up outside the church yard. Dad wants reports, but all I want is to catch a glimpse of Wren.
It makes me wonder why today of all days the Reverend has decided to take Wren with him instead of sending her to school. Had he known something was about to happen? Why would he want her there? That made no sense. I believe everything Wren has told me, so the Reverend holding Wren back worries me.
“They’re gone.” Dad moves next to me. “Has anyone left after them?”
“No movement.”
Finally placing the binoculars on the side, I stare out the back window to the tree line. “I want to find Wren.”
“I know you do, son. She’ll be okay for now.”
“How do we really know that to be true? For all we know the bastard could already be hurting her. What if she didn’t keep quiet about everything she discovered yesterday? She was really shaken learning about Mom and Roman. I could see it in her eyes last night. She wanted to ask the Reverend why he had them killed. I’m worried she doesn’t care about her own safety now. She just wants answers.”
Sighing, Dad hugs me close, holding on as he says, “She’s as loyal as you are, Rafael DeLacroix. I mean she will do anything to protect you. That’s why she needs answers from him. Not just for herself, but for you and, of course, that means me too.” He kisses my forehead.
“Jeremiah is here. He will have answers. I hope,” Dad says, nodding toward the man running across the backyard from the tree line.
With how silently he moved through the backdoor, you wouldn’t think he’d run with any speed. “She’s okay.” He glances at me. “Before you ask.”
I nod.
“Why now? I thought we needed more before they’d go in.” Dad passes him a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Ken wanted to shake him up. Found nothing, but he didn’t expect to. Wanted to let them know we are watching.” He takes a long drink, and adds, “The Reverend kept his cool and, to my surprise, the man actually appeared protective of Wren.”
“How?” I ask, itching to go and find her.
“He wouldn’t let her talk and showed real concern about her being left alone. As to Wren, she was nervous and curious. She wanted to ask questions but kept quiet because the Reverend was within earshot. Agnes Mercer, the old woman who runs the Sunday school, wasn’t pleasant and I sensed Wren was scared of her more than the Reverend.” He shakes his head. “The people there all look for guidance from Lucas Jacobs.”
“We can’t leave Wren with them.”
“Rafael, your girl is safe where she is at the moment. If you take her from him, things won’t go as planned. You have to be careful. The less the Reverend suspects of Wren’s involvement with you, the safer she’ll be. There are agents watching. They know Wren is innocent in all of this and should be protected. The best thing to do is stay away from her for the next few days.”
I frown and tilt my head as I watch him. Jeremiah knows something. At least that’s the feeling I’m getting. “What’s going on?” He stays silent and my anger rapidly starts to rise as I add, “Something is happening, right?”
Jeremiah finally admits, “We don’t know any more than you do. However, we have been led to believe something big is going to be happening. We assume it’s drug related.”
“Dad?”
“I’m thinking.”
Pacing across the kitchen, I try and shake the anger I’m feeling in my blood. I desperately want to find Wren and leave this town. I came here for vengeance and never expected to fall in love with Sarah’s daughter—the daughter of the woman I called Mom, and still do. I can’t change anything—wouldn’t if I could. I have fallen in love with Wren and I’ll do anything, so she doesn’t end up like our mom and brother. It’s frustrating having to think before I go off and act hotheaded when I really need to stay calm and have a plan. A plan is what’s going to get the bastard. Then I’ll have Wren.
“The tunnels!” A bit late in the day to remember, but better than not at all, I guess. “Wren told me about them last night.”
“What tunnels? Why are you just telling us now?” Dad shouts.
“It wasn’t as though we could go snooping,” I answer back. “It was late when I got back here, and I didn’t think about it until now.”
“Explain exactly what you mean, Rafael, please.” Clearly, Jeremiah is the only calm one in the room right now. I can barely keep from pacing. Dad looks like he’s ready to shake me, while Jeremiah leans back in his chair and calmly holds my gaze.
Running my hands through my hair, I join him at the table. “She’d spotted a door in the basement the last time she was locked in there before she was shut in the dark. It was only after we
told her about Sarah being her mother that she decided to go and check out what she’d seen. It was open. She got caught snooping by Silas Mathis.”
“What?” Jeremiah shoots up in the chair. “Say that name again.”
Frowning, I repeat, “Silas Mathis.”
Dad asks, “You know him?”
Jeremiah glances between us, his eyes flickering back and forth. “Yes.” He sighs. “You cannot repeat this, and I’m only telling you now because you obviously know more than what you’re telling me.”
Dad shakes his head. “He made himself known to Rafael, not by name. He also left flowers on Sarah’s grave.”
“He’s been working for us for a few years. He got back from overseas pretty banged up. The moment he discovered what happened to his sister, he contacted us. He wants the same things you two do but got talked into helping us in the process. He tends to do his own thing, which is why no one knows his exact whereabouts at the moment.”
“Wren said she started moving down the tunnel, which seemed to slope deeper into the ground as she walked. Silas startled her and she fought him. He told her who he was and to stop snooping before she got caught. He also suggested we leave town and take her with us. For our own safety, apparently. She picked up from something he said that the tunnel leads to the church. I don’t trust him.”
Jeremiah’s eyes light up with glee. “Silas is a good guy. He lives with a lot of guilt because he had no idea what his sister had gone through. Ken is worried he might go after the Reverend alone if it comes down to it. He probably will. I don’t blame him. However, now you know he’s working for us, I want you to try and make sure the Reverend lives to answer for what he’s done. I don’t want to have to lock Silas away for murder. You hear me?” He pauses. “We need to find out about that tunnel. Maybe there could be more down there. I have a friend who is a historian. I’ll ask him if he knows anything about tunnels around this area.”