Mother Before Wife (The Compound #2)

by Melissa Brown

  “What is it?”

  Pennie, her face pale and mournful, reached into her pocket. “What is this?”

  I stared at the lock in disbelief. “Where did you get that?”

  “Under your bed. I was playing on the floor with Jeremiah, remember? And I accidentally brushed it with my foot.”

  “Sure, you did.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes and looking away. “And you couldn’t have just left it, right? You had to take it with you. Why? You felt like having a spare?”

  “I was worried about you.” Pennie placed her hand over her heart, and I pursed my lips. “Aspen, it’s the truth, I swear it.”

  “I don’t believe you.” I shook my head. “This isn’t the first time you’ve followed me. You probably searched every square inch of my room, didn’t you? What else has he made you do?”

  “I don’t know what you mean.” Her eye twitched and she shifted her weight. She was lying through her teeth.

  “You’re a terrible liar, Pennie.” I mocked her, wanting to embarrass her after she’d betrayed my trust so blatantly. “Now, give it to me.”

  Pennie placed the lock in my hand and stepped back, then buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

  Heat raced through my body like an angry fire. “How long have you been spying on me?”

  “Aspen, I promise I’m not.”

  “You expect me to believe that these are all coincidences? Following me to the temple, snooping around my bedroom—”

  “I wasn’t snooping!” she cried out, her voice growing agitated.

  “Just tell the truth. I know he sent you, just admit it!”

  Pennie stared at the dirt road beneath our feet, her lips pressed together tightly.

  “I don’t have time for this,” I snapped. “Go home.”

  “I want to help you. Whatever it is you’re doing, I want to help.”

  “Why?”

  She scratched the top of her head. “Because aside from my children, you’re the most important person in my life.”

  Nonsense.

  “Liar.”

  “It’s true. My friendship with you, it’s paramount.”

  I crossed my arms in front of me, cocking one hip to the side, my words drenched in cynicism. “More than your marriage to our husband?”

  She hesitated, biting her lip as she broke eye contact. She nodded, but I didn’t believe her.

  “Then why are you spying on me?”

  “I haven’t told him anything.”

  “And you expect me to believe that? How stupid do you think I am?”

  Her voice croaked and her eyes grew teary as she spoke. “It’s true. Paul, he . . . he came to me weeks ago and asked me to keep a close eye on you, to let him know if you did anything out of character. But I’ve told him nothing, not about you going to the temple . . . or the lock. I’m here because I’m worried about you. You’ve been different for months, and I can’t figure it out. I haven’t said a word to Paul. I wouldn’t do that to you; I swear to you on the lives of my children—”

  My head shook slowly back and forth. “Shame on you, bringing innocent babies into this.”

  “I’m telling you the truth.” She walked toward me and placed her hands on my shoulders, but I jerked away.

  Pennie recoiled, taking a step back. “Why can’t you believe me? Why are you treating me like the enemy?”

  I glared at her. “Because I can’t trust any of you anymore. You can stand here all night long, you can swear on the lives of everyone in this damn compound, and it won’t make a bit of difference. Your words will fall on deaf ears.”

  She opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. Instead, she wiped her eyes with the back of her jacket sleeve. The harsh denim left her pale skin irritated and inflamed.

  “I’m begging you, Aspen, please. I haven’t told him anything. Not a thing. You can confide in me, you can.”

  A lump formed in my throat. I wanted to believe her, so very badly.

  Don’t be foolish. If Paul catches you in the temple, you’re done for.

  “Please . . . just go home.”

  We stood in the quiet night, faced off in a deadlock. Pennie begged me with her eyes, but I wouldn’t budge. I was alone—all alone. There was no one on the compound or in my family that I could depend on. I couldn’t entertain the idea of accepting Pennie’s help because it would only lead to more heartache, anguish, and possibly an immediate eviction from our home.

  Be smart, Aspen.

  “All right.” Pennie finally submitted after several minutes, knowing my stubborn streak was much longer than hers. She turned to walk back to the house, and whispered loudly over her shoulder, “Please be safe.”

  • • •

  “Please, please, please! Come on, please.”

  Again and again I attempted to manipulate the hairpins as I’d done dozens of times before. But the lock wouldn’t budge.

  This can’t be happening!

  I’d stood on the third floor of the temple for over an hour, attempting to pick several of the locked doors, but to no avail. Something was wrong. The lock felt different, more complicated. My back was aching, my knees were growing weak, and my frustration was mounting. I needed help.

  Quickly, I retrieved my phone and texted Jonathan.

  Aspen: I can’t open these doors. No matter what I do, they won’t budge. I don’t know what to do. Please help!

  After I attempted to maneuver the hairpins again for several minutes, my phone finally chirped with a response.

  Jonathan: I was worried about this. He may have installed security pins. It’s getting more common, especially with new construction.

  Aspen: What do I do? I can’t give up now!

  Jonathan: Call me. We’ll figure this out.

  With shaky hands, I found his number in my contacts and clicked on Detective Cooke. He answered immediately, and I wasted no time with pleasantries.

  “I’ve been practicing for hours. Please don’t tell me I’ve done this for nothing.”

  “No, I’m not . . . I’m not saying that.” Jonathan’s hesitation deceived him. He knew this was over.

  “Then what are you saying? You never said anything about security pins! Why didn’t you warn me about that?” I snapped.

  When the other end of the line remained disturbingly quiet, I panicked.

  I can’t lose Jonathan. I just can’t! Fix this, Aspen. Fix it now.

  “Sorry. I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just—”

  “I know. I won’t take it personally.”

  Tears built in my eyes and I fought them off as best I could, but one slipped down my cheek. I wiped it as quickly as it came.

  “I’ve practiced that lock for days, alienated myself from my family, and done irreparable damage to my marriage. I’ve come way too far to leave empty-handed.”

  “Damage to your marriage? Are you all right?”

  Please don’t feel sorry for me. I can’t stand that.

  “I will be.”

  “Wait, I just thought of something.” Jonathan’s voice perked up. “His office. Weeks ago, you told me he locked his office right before his sermon, but that he never used to lock it. Maybe there’s something in there, something to implicate him. That’s in the old temple, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “How old is that temple?”

  “Older than me. Probably fifty or sixty years old.”

  “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll bet he’s covered his tracks carefully with the new building, since he can do it without raising any eyebrows. No one will know what locks he’s installing with all the construction. But I’m guessing he hasn’t thought to switch the locks in the old temple. Can you go there? Tonight?”

  “Yes, of course. It’s several blocks away, but I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I have to do; you know that.”

  “I do.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, it may amount to nothing, but you have to try. You have to find out what this fucker’s hiding. Shit
, I’m sorry.”

  An uncomfortable laugh left my throat. I surprised myself with how accustomed I’d grown to his profanity. It hardly bothered me anymore.

  “It’s fine. We’re both at our wit’s end. Believe me, I’d love to scream some obscenities right now. It seems like it’d be a tension releaser.”

  “It is.” He chuckled into the phone. “You should try it. Right now. C’mon, go for it!”

  “This isn’t the time or the place, Detect—sorry. I mean, Jonathan.” I placed the hairpins in my pocket and threw my flashlights into my knapsack.

  “You’re right. But seriously, don’t give up. I have a feeling you’ll find everything you need at the temple. Let’s nail this scumbag.”

  “I’ll call you if I find something, all right?”

  “When.”

  “What?”

  “Call me when you find something. You’ve got this, Aspen. You do.”

  I wanted to believe him, to bottle his confidence and inject it into my own brain. But I couldn’t. I was just a woman on the brink of expulsion, determined to save my babies and desperate for answers. Any answers I could find.

  And so I hung up the phone, placed it in my knapsack, and made my way from the new temple to the old. I hoped that soon I’d be dialing Jonathan’s number once again—only this time with the answers we both thirsted for.

  Chapter 25

  Pennie

  Keep sweet; don’t cry. Keep sweet; don’t cry.

  Pennie held her tears at bay for as long as she could, but when she finally reached the sanctuary of her bedroom, she flung herself on her bed and let them come. Pressing a pillow to her mouth, she wailed and wailed until the cold cotton was warm and wet, until her eyes burned and her throat hurt.

  She hates me.

  A spike of adrenaline flew through her as she stared at the homemade throw pillows she and Aspen had created the year before when Paul allowed her to purchase fabric and sew new bedding. She and Aspen had spent two long days together, just the two of them in the sewing room. They’d talked for hours, with occasional laughter and dozens of stolen glances on the part of Pennie.

  Two of the best days of my life.

  Pennie didn’t quite understand her fascination with her newest sister wife, nor did she allow herself to question it, for she knew what that would mean. She would burn. Instead, she clung to her secret like her youngest daughter, Sabrina, clung to her teddy bear, Clyde. It was the deepest secret of her life, one she’d never share with another, even Aspen.

  As infatuated as she was with the wife with naturally wavy brown locks and piercing blue eyes, she knew her feelings would never be reciprocated. She was important to Aspen, or at least she had been, but her true feelings were most definitely unrequited.

  Sometimes, when she and Paul were intimate, she would force herself to behave differently. She’d dig her nails into his lower back as he moved above her, would whimper when he found his release and kiss the base of his neck with a fervor that she never quite felt. It was in those moments that she imagined a different neck, a different lower back, and a different person lying above her. It was those moments when she submitted to her private obsession.

  She wondered if there were others like her on the compound, other wives who were more drawn to their sister wives than to their husbands, but she knew that was impossible. She was a solitary mistake on the part of Heavenly Father, and one that would certainly be rectified in the celestial kingdom. She could only hope that if she never acted on her feelings, if her thoughts were never acted upon, that Heavenly Father and the Prophet would somehow forgive the evil inside her and focus instead on the love and care she bestowed upon her husband and children. She hoped, she hoped, she hoped . . .

  Everything she’d told Aspen was the truth. Weeks and weeks ago, Paul did come to her . . .

  • • •

  It had been a pleasant Wednesday morning, and she’d just finished up her work in the kitchen. She’d cleaned it from top to bottom and marveled at how the countertops shone in the sunlight.

  Paul had emerged from the hallway that led to the sister wives’ bedrooms, which seemed odd.

  Shouldn’t he be at work?

  “Pennie, may I have a word with you?”

  “Certainly.”

  After she placed her cleaning solution under the sink and secured the child safety lock, she followed him to his study, where he closed the door and asked her to take a seat.

  “Is everything all right?” she asked. “You look pale.”

  “No, I, uh . . . I’m concerned about Aspen. She’s not herself.”

  “Really? She seems fine to me.”

  The creases in Paul’s forehead deepened and he leaned forward, placing his hands in his lap. “She’s not. She’s secretive and disingenuous. And she won’t tell me what’s wrong.”

  “And you think she’ll talk to me?”

  “You two are rather close, aren’t you?” His voice was tense, concerned.

  “We are,” she answered with pride.

  “Then, please . . . keep an eye on her for me. See what’s bothering her.”

  “You want me to spy on her?”

  “No, of course not.” He waved his hand, but then paused. “I just need you to let me know if she does anything out of the ordinary. You know, out of character. I’m worried, Pennie, and if you care about her, you should be worried too.”

  That last sentence was all it took. Right then and there, she promised him that day that she would keep a close eye on her sister wife. After all, she knew Paul was just as fascinated with Aspen as she herself had become, and she was fully aware (as were most of his other wives) that when it came to Aspen, his thinking wasn’t always the most rational. He was defensive, paranoid, and determined that her affections match his own, even though to every other adult in the house, it was clear that they did not.

  Pennie had followed Aspen that night at the new temple; that’s true. But she hadn’t uttered a word to Paul about it; instead, she became preoccupied with Aspen’s behavior. She’d lost her smile, that beautiful smile that Pennie longed for each day.

  Aspen was never one to be jovial or effervescent. No, her smile was subtle, clever, and witty, when she chose to share it. Pennie loved how one side of her mouth would perk up ever so slowly before the rest of her mouth followed suit. She missed that smile. Not only that, but Aspen was isolating herself, pulling away from Pennie, censoring herself during conversation, and often leaving during the day to run errands that simply weren’t her norm.

  Something was wrong. Very wrong.

  Pennie was worried that Aspen planned to leave the compound. The idea alone created a gaping chasm in her chest.

  Don’t leave me.

  Out of pure self-preservation, Pennie continued to follow Aspen. She watched in horror as Aspen visited a police station, sure this was the beginning of the end, that Aspen was seeking assistance in leaving their family. But then weeks later when Aspen remained in Paul’s home, Pennie allowed herself to relax.

  And then Jeremiah disappeared.

  Aspen’s withdrawn behavior intensified. She visited the police station once again, sending Pennie into a frenzy. Every spare minute she had was focused on Aspen. And when she found the lock underneath the bed, she knew it was time to confront her sister wife, the object of her affection, the most important person in her life.

  Pennie knew it wouldn’t go over well. After all, she was quite familiar with Aspen’s angry outbursts as of late, but that didn’t matter. She wanted to convince her sister wife that she was, in fact, an ally.

  But she hadn’t realized Aspen knew of her spying. She knew.

  Paul had never followed up on his request, and Pennie wondered if guilt had consumed him, knowing it was wrong to ask one sister wife to spy and inform on another. Each time he’d come to her bed, she’d brace herself for the lies she would undoubtedly need to compose. But each time they would lay together and when he was through, they’d talk cordially about
the family, about his work, and about his relief that Jeremiah was found.

  For all intents and purposes, her relationship with Paul had reverted to normal, and she was grateful for that. So grateful.

  • • •

  But now, Pennie had hit rock bottom. Aspen looked at her as if she was a foe, one that could never be trusted again. And her heart broke.

  Normally, Pennie was resilient—always hopeful, always buoyant and enthusiastic. But not this time. This time, she wanted to curl up into a ball and pretend she didn’t exist, pretend the world didn’t hate her and that she wasn’t indeed going to burn in Hell for her wicked thoughts.

  She wanted to drift into a cloudy dream where Aspen was her friend once again, where betrayal and anger had no place in their relationship. Where they would simply sit at their sewing machines laughing and talking, creating beautiful pillows for her bed.

  And so that’s exactly what she did.

  Chapter 26

  “Beware, for the Prophet sees evil . . . and isn’t afraid to quash it.”

  —The Prophet, Clarence Black

  Aspen

  Goose bumps covered my entire body. I’d never entered our old temple in the evening, and most certainly had never been there when others were not in attendance. This was new and eerie, as if I was seeing the building I’d known since birth with different eyes. Enlightened, suspicious eyes.

  The expansive windows of the chapel lit my way and eliminated the need for flashlights, but the floorboards creaking beneath my feet made me cringe. I froze and clenched my teeth at the noise.

  No one’s here, Aspen. You’re the only one who can hear it. Relax.

  Willing my brain and body to relax was futile. It wasn’t possible, but I had to try. I’d always been one who believed in mind over matter, but old habits were hard to break, no matter the situation I’d gotten myself into.

  Taking two large deep breaths, I climbed the altar of the temple and approached the Prophet’s office door. It was locked, of course. Wasting no time, I retrieved my hairpins and studied the lock before I went to work on it. After just a few minutes, I heard it the noise I was waiting for and my heart soared.