Thou Art With Me

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Thou Art With Me Page 15

by Debbie Viguié


  With a frustrated grunt he sat up, grabbed the phone, and moved into the hallway as he answered.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Jeremiah.”

  “Do you have something?” he asked, coming a little more awake.

  “News, and it’s bad.”

  “He’s dead, isn’t he?” Mark asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Dang it. Did you find the body?”

  “No, we’re working on that. We do know that he was killed, though.”

  “You got anything I could build a real case on?” Mark asked.

  “Not yet, but we’re not going to let these people get away with it.”

  “People, as in more than one?”

  “At least four from what we can tell. And whatever their game is, it appears that murder is not the end goal but an accident. Whatever they’ve been doing it sounds like they’ve been doing it for a while and something went wrong with Malcolm.”

  “Okay, what do you need from me?

  “I don’t know yet, but as soon as I do believe me I’ll be calling.”

  Mark hung up the phone and stood for a moment, gathering himself before calling the captain. It was always bad enough delivering this kind of news to strangers but it was nearly impossible to deliver it to people he knew. He took a deep breath and made the call.

  Jeremiah got ready for bed. It had been a long, frustrating night. Their ruse had worked, but Cindy was taking the news that Malcolm was already dead pretty hard. What was worse was he didn’t know how to help her.

  When he’d finished up in the bathroom he turned off the light and walked into the bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of her bed, frowning as though deep in thought. She was wearing pajamas with cavorting cats on them and she looked adorable.

  “You okay?”

  “Yeah, just thinking,” she said. She looked up at him and tried to force a smile. “So, what’s on the schedule for tomorrow?”

  He walked over to the table and picked up the papers they’d received upon check-in. “Let’s see, tomorrow we have the same thing in the morning: breakfast, group session, and lunch. Then in the afternoon we have some free time, then ballroom dancing followed by a small group session with Jasmine.”

  “The hugger?” Cindy asked.

  “That would be the one.”

  “And the two women said they were going ahead with their plans as scheduled. So, we need to still be watching and to figure out what they’re trying to pull people into.”

  “Exactly.”

  Cindy looked like she wanted to say something else, but she just shook her head. “It’s going to be a busy day, we should probably get some sleep.”

  “Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked her.

  “I will be,” she said.

  He decided not to push. A lot had happened in the last few hours that had shaken them both. She would share when she was ready. He turned off the lights around the room and then climbed into his bed. After a minute Cindy clicked off the lamp on the nightstand, plunging the room into darkness. He could hear her as she laid down, and then she messed with her covers for a few minutes.

  It was going to be an interesting day. Now that they knew that Malcolm was dead they could pursue answers a little more aggressively without worrying that he had only been kidnapped and might get hurt.

  He understood why Cindy was so frustrated. Sometimes justice was a lot harder to obtain than it should be. He really wished there was more they could do and faster.

  If Malcolm was an outlier then it was a good guess that whatever they were doing with these people, killing them wasn’t part of the plan. And yet even though they were on tribal land it wasn’t like the people at the resort were doing something that would cause a hue and cry from their former clientele. Which meant that whatever it was, they were getting people to do voluntarily. They seemed to be targeting people with money, or at least people they thought had money.

  It couldn’t be something like an investment scheme, because how would something like that have gone so badly with Malcolm so quickly? There had to be others out there who had been approached, participated in whatever this was. If only they could find and talk to them.

  Mark.

  Mark was on the outside and he could do that. Jeremiah had been thinking about the fact that no judge was going to issue a warrant for him to obtain the resort’s client list.

  But they didn’t necessarily need former clients who could testify. They just needed one to clue them in as to what was going on.

  Cindy’s breathing had evened out and was gentle and rhythmic. She had finally fallen asleep which was good. She needed it. As quietly as he could he got up, grabbed the clothes he’d been wearing earlier, and went into the bathroom to change.

  When he emerged Cindy was still asleep. He slipped on his shoes, put his cell in his one pocket and his keycard and a blank piece of resort stationery in his other. After only a moment’s hesitation he also grabbed the Minox camera he had brought on the trip just in case. He slid it into his shirt pocket then he let himself out as quietly as he could.

  He moved swiftly to the main building, easily avoiding the couple of surveillance cameras that he knew about. He kept his eyes and ears on alert, looking and listening for any sign of a staff member patrolling the grounds. Of course, at this time of night anyone else who was walking around would be up to something.

  Just like he was.

  He made it to the main building and slipped inside. He made a beeline for the computer and in seconds he had the reservation system up and running. After looking around the system for a minute, he was able to find a way to pull together a spreadsheet of all clients from a certain time frame. He created one for everyone who had been at the resort in the last six weeks.

  There were far too many names to write down and he had no way of telling who might have been a potential target. He slid the Minox out of his pocket. The camera was tiny, and its type was commonly referred to as the spy camera with good reason. And even in the age of smartphones it was an important tool because of the quality of the pictures it took, even at extreme close range, and because it was a fraction the size of a smartphone.

  Less than a minute later he’d taken pictures of everything he needed. He shut the program down. He started to slip the camera back into his pocket, but he paused. Something deep down urged him not to.

  Whenever he had that prompting, he had learned to obey. He had often thought it was G-d warning him. Whether it was or not he knew that it had never steered him wrong.

  He bent down and slipped the camera into his shoe. It was a tight fit, but at least it would be concealed. Finished, he rose and walked around the other side of the counter. He made it into the center of the room and paused. He’d heard something. He knew he had. From where he was standing he could see into the dining room and there was no one there. A door on the far side led to a kitchen area. Both the gym and the yoga studio were dark and deserted looking. The hair rose on the back of his neck and in that moment he knew that he was about to get caught.

  16

  Jeremiah weighed his options. There were multiple places he could hide, but without knowing where someone would be coming from and where they would be going to it made it difficult. The multitude of windows in the building also allowed it to be flooded by a lot of moonlight making dark shadowy places few and far between.

  He heard a scraping sound. It was possible that whoever was coming his way was trying to be stealthy as well. Either way there was one option that would serve him best at this point. He quickly rolled his long sleeves up to his elbows to de-emphasize the fact that he was wearing all black.

  “Hello? Is anyone around? I need some help,” Jeremiah called.

  There was a moment of silence in which the other person was clearly trying to decide how to respond.

  “Anyone?” Jeremiah called one last time. If there continued to be no answer he would turn and walk out the door.

  A section of the wall behi
nd the front desk opened, a door that he hadn’t noticed before. A dim light was burning in the room beyond which was likely a back office area.

  Arnold stepped through, not bothering to hide the scowl on his face.

  “What are you doing up?” he asked bluntly.

  Jeremiah pulled his keycard out of his pocket. “My card demagnetized and I need help getting it fixed. I must have put it too close to my phone without thinking.”

  Simple and to the point. People who weren’t feeling guilty or like they had anything to hide were more likely to make simple, direct requests.

  “Why couldn’t you wait until morning?” Arnold asked.

  “Because I need it to get back in my room now,” Jeremiah said, acting like it was the most natural answer in the world and like he was surprised that he would even have to say it out loud.

  “And why are you not in your room at this time of the night?”

  “Oh, well, Cindy and I had a...bit of a disagreement. I couldn’t sleep so I decided to take a walk, clear my head, you know, before I said anything stupid.”

  “And she wouldn’t let you in when you came back to the room?”

  “She sleeps like the dead. I don’t how she does it, but she does. I knocked for five minutes when I realized my card wasn’t working. I didn’t want to kick the door or shout because I didn’t want to wake anyone else up. So, I figured there must be someone out here at night in case of emergencies and things. It was all dark, though, so I didn’t think there was. I have to admit I’m relieved to see you.”

  He could tell from the look on Arnold’s face that the man was still wavering slightly in his suspicion. Jeremiah stepped forward and handed him his keycard. “Bungalow fourteen,” he said with a smile. “And, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell the other staff members we were fighting. It’s embarrassing.”

  “It could be worse,” Arnold commented as he took the keycard.

  “Yeah, she could have told me I could go sleep on the yoga mats or something,” Jeremiah said, giving a nervous edge to his voice to give the impression that Cindy had indeed actually said that.

  Arnold visibly relaxed. “Here, empty your pockets on the counter.”

  “Why?”

  “I just want to see what you’re carrying. Sometimes people don’t realize exactly what is demagnetizing their cards. I’ve helped more than one person discover the true culprit so it would stop happening to them.”

  While Jeremiah did not doubt that what the man said was true, he also knew Arnold wanted to get a look at what he had on him, just in case. Despite the tightness in his shoe and the discomfort to his instep, Jeremiah was grateful that the camera was safely stowed there.

  “Okay, but I’m pretty sure it’s my phone,” he said, pulling first the phone then the blank piece of paper out of his pockets.

  “Anything in your shirt pocket?” Arnold asked, eyeing it.

  “No,” Jeremiah said, pulling it out slightly.

  “You don’t have your wallet with you,” Arnold noted.

  “I didn’t need it. I wasn’t going anywhere and there was nothing to buy. Although, if you’d like a little feedback, you could really do with a soda vending machine. I could kill for a Coca Cola right about now.”

  “Yes, I bet you could. I was going to check your wallet. Some have magnetic clasps on them. Also, if you stack your cards so that the magnetic strips are touching each other that can cause problems.”

  “I never knew that, thanks for the tip,” Jeremiah said. He put the phone and the piece of paper back in his pocket.

  Arnold gave him a strained smile. “It’ll take me a couple of minutes to get into the system so I can reset your card.”

  “I understand. At night at my work we turn off all the computers, too. Saves electricity and wear and tear.”

  And by indicating that he thought Arnold’s computer was turned off, he implied that he had not been behind the counter to see that it wasn’t.

  “Do you want to talk about what the fight was over?” Arnold asked.

  Jeremiah hesitated before saying, “I do, but I shouldn’t. I’d have to betray her trust to do so and I’m not quite ready to do that just yet.”

  Again an implication, this time that he might be enticed into doing so. They seemed to be targeting couples where the partners could be easily separated from each other. He wanted to plant the seeds that he and Cindy might not be glued at the hip in case Arnold was in on whatever was going on.

  “If you change your mind, let me know. I’m here to help.”

  About a minute later Arnold swiped Jeremiah’s card and then handed it to him. “Make sure to keep it away from your phone this time.”

  “I will. Hey, you’re the boss, how come you’re the one stuck holding down the fort in the middle of the night?”

  “Everyone has to pull their weight,” Arnold said with a tight smile. “And, as you pointed out, I’m the boss which brings with it a good deal of paperwork that is easiest to deal with when I’m not being disturbed.”

  “Sorry. Well, have a good rest of your night. I’ll see you in the morning,” Jeremiah said, turning and heading for the door.

  Once outside he moved swiftly. He made it back to the bungalow and quietly let himself inside. Cindy appeared to still be asleep which was lucky for him.

  He removed the camera from his shoe and put it on the table. He grabbed some equipment from his bag and minutes later had emailed Mark the images containing the names and contact information of past resort guests. Hopefully he’d be able to get something useful out of it.

  He thought about calling Mark to alert him to look for it. It was the middle of the night, though. There was a chance he’d gone back to bed already. A call would surely wake Cindy up, too. Jeremiah settled for sending Mark a text telling him to check his email. That done, he hastily began to get ready for bed a second time.

  Mark’s phone chimed just as he was drifting off to sleep. He opened one eye and saw that Jeremiah had texted something. Mark picked up the phone. If the rabbi wasn’t dead or dying then Mark was going to kill him.

  Check your email.

  Great, cryptic as usual. Mark dropped the phone back on the nightstand in disgust. No way was he getting up. If it was an emergency Jeremiah would have called. Mark flipped onto his side, fluffed his pillow and closed his eyes.

  Unless for some reason he can’t call.

  He punched his pillow, cursing its sudden lumpiness. That was ridiculous. If he could text he could call. It couldn’t be an emergency.

  Unless he and Cindy have been pinned down and he couldn’t risk revealing their location by talking.

  Mark flipped on his other side, punched the pillow again just for good measure. That was ridiculous. They should be safe and secure in their room. No one knew who they were and they hadn’t been caught when snooping around earlier.

  Unless they went back out to track down a lead.

  Mark folded his pillow in half and threw himself on his back, the entire bed shaking with his effort. Still Traci slept on, snoring softly. If it had been an actual emergency Jeremiah would have typed SOS or 911 or something besides instructions regarding email.

  Unless someone else was using his phone and they’ve just sent some sort of ransom demand.

  Mark sat straight up and seriously considered whether or not shooting his pillow would help. While he pondered it he told himself that a kidnapper would have just called or sent a video image to the phone.

  He fell backward and the pillow slid out from beneath his head and fell down between the mattress and the headboard. He was so tired he might just leave it there.

  Unless-

  Mark sat up, grabbed the phone and called Jeremiah. When Jeremiah answered, before the rabbi could even finish saying “hello”, Mark shouted, “Are you alive or not?”

  “Alive,” Jeremiah said.

  “Wrong answer. You’re dead because you won’t let me sleep. The email, is it an emergency?”

  “It’
s important, but-”

  “Will the world come to an end if I open it in the morning instead of right now?”

  “No.”

  “Good. Is there anything else?”

  “No.”

  “Then goodnight.”

  Mark ended the call and threw the phone. It hit the floor with a dull thud. He rolled onto his stomach and face-planted on the mattress. He didn’t need a pillow or a phone or even the covers Traci was now somehow hogging. He just needed to get some sleep.

  Rachel began to cry.

  Then Ryan.

  Then Mark.

  Cindy woke in the morning feeling better, calmer than when she’d gone to bed. She sat up slowly and glanced over at Jeremiah. She was surprised to see that he was still asleep. A quick glance at the clock had her up and on her feet. They were running late.

  “Jeremiah, wake up,” she said.

  He groaned and stirred.

  She grabbed her clothes and headed into the bathroom to change. When she emerged a couple of minutes later Jeremiah was still asleep, but his covers were pulled up over him. His bare feet were sticking out the end.

  “Jeremiah,” she called.

  When he didn’t answer she reached out and tickled the bottom of his left foot. He moved his foot and slowly pulled the covers down so she could see his face again.

  “Get up or I’ll tickle both feet,” she said.

  He opened his eyes and regarded her for a moment. “You do realize... I’ve killed people for less?” he said, a yawn interrupting him in the middle.

  “You do realize we’re going to be late?” she countered.

  He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He looked like death warmed over.

  “What happened to you last night?” she asked.

  “I went back out after you fell asleep.”

  “You what?” she demanded.

  “It occurred to me that I could get Mark a list of resort guests for the last several weeks and he could check them out and see if any of them tells a weird story.”

 

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