The White Lily

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The White Lily Page 13

by Susanne Matthews


  “I can’t disagree with that, but I still don’t get it. I get Bible-thumpers at the door at least once a month, and I don’t see any of them as a god.”

  “Ah, but have any of them risen from the dead?”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “My uncle did, or at least he convinced people he did. He and my father fell ill within a few hours of one another. My dad went quickly, but Uncle Duncan was in and out of comas. Twice the doctor called the women to prepare the body, and he rallied. The third time, everyone assumed he’d passed. They’d just stripped him to wash him down when he woke up. The fever had broken, and he claimed God had sent him back to lead the people of New Horizon into the Promised Land. The strangest part was, after he got better, no one else died or even got sick. To the people of New Horizon, that was a miracle and he’d performed it.”

  “Wow. I guess that would make believers out of a few people. Let me guess—people started to turn to him for blessings and advice, and when he said ‘jump,’ they asked, ‘how high?’ Right?”

  “More or less. Before the epidemic, some of the cult members used to drive into town and attend church on Sundays. Afterward, since the population had dwindled to about three dozen, they tended to stay on the farm. If you’d told me the commune had broken apart and people had gone their separate ways, I’d find that easier to believe.”

  “As far as I know, the cult has more than 200 adult members.”

  “Agent Munroe implied it was growing—I guess that’s why they were kidnapping women—but those would be babies. You’re saying these are adult members—where the hell did they come from? Eighteen years ago, my uncle had his followers so scared of inviting another epidemic, they wouldn’t have given a cup of water to a dying man. Most of them, including my uncle’s right-hand man, seemed to have forgotten that at one time, they’d all been needy strangers coming to New Horizon, looking for a better life.”

  “Risen Lord or not, I still don’t see how he could’ve convinced what you call nice folks to follow him and do what they’ve done.”

  “Duncan was an eloquent speaker, committed to his opinions. Mom described him as the man with a golden tongue who could charm the birds out of the trees. His speech was hypnotic, and back then, people were scared of their own shadows. He used their fear and insecurity against them to start making changes around the commune. My best times were those weeks when he’d just disappear, supposedly communing with God. When he came back—and believe me, in his case for a lot of people, absence did make the heart grow fonder—he’d claim the Creator, as he began referring to God, had spoken to him. He’d gather us all together and read select passages from the Bible, Old Testament stuff, all fire and brimstone, and they’d be rapt. I didn’t buy any of it. Of course, by then, I hated him so much I’d have argued that black was white with him. I didn’t pay much attention to his rhetoric. Maybe if I had, I might’ve seen some of this stuff coming. The only reason I sat through his lectures was to avoid another beating. He really embraced that ‘spare the rod, spoil the child’ ideology. While he was gone, times were leaner than ever, and when he returned, we’d have plenty of food and whatever else had been lacking. I remember my cousin saying his father performed miracles—you know like the loaves and fishes.”

  “What do you think really happened?”

  “People got better because the fever ran its course. They didn’t get sick again because, like me, they built up some kind of natural immunity. No miracle there. As far as the food shortages went, I think the son of a bitch hid it before he left and brought it out again when he came back. He’s no god, Tom. That I can guarantee.”

  Chapter Nine

  Lilith had just finished splashing cold water on her face when the sound of the door opening startled her. She’d locked that, hadn’t she?

  “Lilith, it’s me,” Trevor said. “I’m coming in to talk to you.” He poked his head around the door. “Is it safe?”

  “Yeah.” She slid down to sit on the floor once more. She was exhausted and ashamed of the way she’d lost control. “How did you get in?”

  “I’ve got a master key. It opens all the doors in case of emergency. Here.” He handed her a bottle of water and dropped her purse on the floor beside her.

  Well, this isn’t a surprise. Screw up, and you usually get fired.

  She sighed. Not being able to follow through on those kidnappings would kill her, but what could she expect? The FBI didn’t tolerate incompetence. If you couldn’t cut it, adios.

  “Can I stay in the apartment a couple of days until I get my files sorted out?” I’d like to finish my reports ...”

  “Calm down, Munroe. You’re not going anywhere. I brought you your purse so you could fix your makeup again. You did a decent job of it this morning.”

  “You knew? Did the others?” God, can this day get any worse?

  “I’m the team leader. I know everything. As to the others, I covered for you and said you’d gone to the store to pick up a pair of tights. It was a lame excuse, but it worked. I had to listen to Tom complain about how much money his wife and daughter spent on them.” He pulled a second bottle of water out the back pocket of his pants and sat down beside her. “I suppose you’re pretty mad at me, aren’t you?’

  Lilith frowned. “Why would I be mad at you?”

  “Because this breakdown and the one you had earlier today are probably my fault. I read your dossier and the full report on the raid at the FFOW before I insisted that you replace Pierce. The medical reports were very specific, including the notation that there is a strong possibility you’d suffer from PTSD as a result. I saw the transfer from undercover in San Diego to the BAU at Quantico. I knew bringing you in on the Harvester case was risky, but when I saw that little girl’s face, I also knew you were the only person with the knowledge to help me. I’m sorry. I didn’t stop to think about how this might tear you apart, especially when I sent you in there to apologize to Jacob for us.”

  “I thought I had it more or less under control, but I don’t. I can see that now. Since my arrival in Boston, I’m having trouble staying focused, keeping the demons at bay. Maybe it’s because I stepped out of my self-imposed prison. I’ve spent the last five years hiding, Trevor, hiding from the man who tortured me and the one who ordered it. I never saw their faces. Each night, I see my tormentor’s eyes in nightmares that have gotten worse, especially last night after that crime scene ...” She shuddered.

  “Hey, if I’d known what you and Rob were going to find in that house, I’d have never allowed him to take you. He’d have had to get Tom, birthday or no birthday. I’d have sent his wife, Fiona, ten dozen roses to make up for it.”

  She giggled. “And I’m sure she’d have loved that. Tom says she has hay fever.”

  “Nice to see that smile,” Trevor said, leaning back against the wall and looking straight ahead. “Remind me to get a couple of chairs in here. Since you’re the only one using this washroom, you might as well be comfortable.”

  “I don’t expect to spend that much time in here, but thanks.” He was helping her relax, and she appreciated the gesture.

  “Can I ask what caused the breakdown this morning?”

  Her first inclination was to scream no and lock herself in the stall, but that wasn’t practical. Besides, he had the right to know.

  “The press conference. I thought I could do it. I’d convinced myself it would be quick and easy. I’d talk to maybe half a dozen people, and that would be it. I didn’t expect all those cameras. The longer I was in front of them, the worse it was. When it was over, I actually felt okay until I came in here. Then it hit me. If the Prophet and the killer saw that press conference, so might the man who’d tortured me, and if he recognized me, he’d know where to find me—I hadn’t used my own name and ...”

  “It’s okay. I guess I have more to apologize for than just forcing you on to the task force. Roses or chocolates?”

  She swiped at the lone tear crawling down her cheek. “
Ice cream, rocky road.”

  “You’ve got it. There’ll be some in the break room freezer in the morning. Look, I can’t pretend I know what it’s like to battle those demons you face every day. Some people can’t do it and crawl into their shells. You don’t do that. You’re a strong woman. You fall and then you pick yourself up again. Right now, you probably feel like you screwed up, but you didn’t. You’re damn good at your job. That’s why I need you. This isn’t going to be easy, but maybe, if you help us rid the world of these monsters, it’ll go a long way toward dealing with yours. You don’t know who your tormentor was. Nine men were killed in that raid along with Rivers. He could’ve been one of them. Have you thought of that? The leader got away, yes, and took Kelly Kirk with him, but we cut the head off one snake, and you can help us do it again. Your instincts are right on.”

  “Sure they are.” She snorted. “I wanted you to let the Prophet’s nephew into the Nashua Street Jail so he could do whatever it is his uncle wants him to do. Maybe I can help him hand out the cyanide pills and slip a couple into his bowl of ice cream.”

  Trevor laughed and shook his head. “Nice to see you haven’t lost your sense of humor. Your instincts about Jacob Andrews were fine. I wasn’t so sure, but I made some follow-up calls. In fact, I was on my way to talk to the two of you when you shrieked. That’s a hell of a note you hit. I’m surprised we still have windows. Jacob checks out. Everything you said about him is correct, and I’ve got that on the highest authority. I talked to my friends at Interpol. He’s clean. A model citizen. I’ve asked him to stay on a bit longer to help us.”

  “But ...”

  “Nothing’s changed, Lilith. Think about it. When you believed his uncle was the cult’s civil leader, you thought he could help us find the Prophet. Now that we know his uncle is the Prophet, we’re one step closer to finding the bastard. I’ve already told Jacob he owes you an explanation for not coming out and telling you right away. I’m satisfied with it, but I think you need to apologize, too. You said some pretty harsh things.”

  “I did? I don’t even remember what I said.” Her voice cracked as her eyes filled with tears. “How the hell am I going to explain that very public meltdown?”

  “Any way you want to. Rob and Tom are putting it down to a delayed reaction to last night’s grisly murders. No one’s first time is easy, and believe me, it stays with you, but what you saw last night ... well, it gave Rob nightmares, too. Added to that, you took Jacob to the morgue. The guys know you lost a sister to suicide when you were a teenager. It was in the profile I shared with them when I added you to the task force. I may have implied that seeing a young girl around the same age would’ve dredged up bad memories.”

  “Thank you.” No one had shown her kindness and understanding like this since her parents had died just before she’d moved to Virginia.

  “Rob described the very public scene Faye made at the police station when she thought he’d made a fool of her. I understand yours was mild by comparison, so chin up. Fix your face, and we’ll all go out and get lunch.” He winked. “Safety in numbers.” He stood. “Ten minutes?”

  She nodded and got to her feet, carrying her purse up as she did. He was almost to the door when she called out to him.

  “Trevor, what if it happens again? What if I have another meltdown?”

  “I can arrange for you to see the department’s shrink if you want. Rob had to right after we stormed the farm and rescued Faye. Everyone needs someone to talk to, Munroe. Especially with the jobs we do. Or, if you prefer, come and see me. We’ll talk about it until you’ve got that sarcastic ice-queen persona back in place.”

  She stepped forward and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.” She swallowed the emotions clogging her throat. “Now move. I’ve got ten minutes to fix this damage.” She indicated the streaks of mascara she hadn’t quite removed.

  “Take fifteen,” he said and closed the door, his laughter following him out of the room.

  Lilith slipped her feet into her shoes and turned to the mirror. Since her tears had stopped, cold water and cover-up would do wonders. She’d redo her hair and the rest of her makeup. Her eyes were still bright, but she actually felt better. Trevor was right. She’d kept things bottled up too long. Hadn’t she considered calling her therapist this morning? So maybe her instincts were right. The fear was still there, just as it had been all along, but sharing it had lightened the load. She was still angry with Jacob and his sidestep around the truth, but she had to admit, that might have been her assumption as well. As her dad used to say, quoting a character on the old The Odd Couple show he loved, “When you assume, you make an ass out of u and me,” and if there was one thing she didn’t need help with, it was making an ass of herself.

  Twelve minutes later, Lilith stepped into the bullpen, stopping as soon as she did.

  “You bastards,” she said before bursting into laughter. Standing in a line, shoulder to shoulder wearing riot gear helmets and holding shields in front of their bodies were Tom, Rob, and Trevor. Behind them, she could just see the top of Jacob’s head.

  “Very funny,” she said when she finally stopped laughing, “but a little over the top, don’t you think?”

  “Obviously, you’ve never seen my wife when she’s angry,” Rob said, removing the helmet. “Riot gear might not be enough.”

  “What can I say? I’ve had a pretty lousy twenty-four hours. Maybe I overreacted.” That was as much of an explanation as she’d decided to give. No apologies, no excuses. “And he made me really mad.” She pointed at Jacob. Thank God the ice-queen mask was back in place, because on the inside she was a quivering mass of jelly.

  “I didn’t mean to,” Jacob said. “I started to tell you yesterday ...”

  “No, you didn’t.”

  “But I did. You said that the Prophet had killed those women and I should take comfort in the fact James hadn’t done it. I laughed and said not really when you consider, and that’s when Rob stepped in.”

  Rob, was it? They’d certainly gotten cozy in the forty minutes or so that she’d been out of it.

  “I was going to finish that statement as follows: not when you consider that my uncle is the bloody Prophet.” He stepped around the other team members. “I’m sorry, I should’ve said something earlier, but I wasn’t thinking straight yesterday, not that it’s an excuse. When you said this morning that you wanted to ask me more questions about the cult and my uncle in particular, I presumed you’d made the connection on your own.”

  “Fine. Apology under consideration,” she said, pressing the down button on the elevator, not quite ready to forgive him or accept him at face value. She understood her own part in the misunderstanding with her tendency to judge everything by the way the FFOW had conducted itself, even though she knew, from her study of cults, that one man was often in charge. Trevor said her instincts were good, so she’d stick to them. Right now, what she wanted to know was how Jacob had gotten so chummy with everyone. Obviously, they knew something she didn’t. Secrets. Damn secrets. “You’re paying for lunch.”

  The elevator dinged, and she stepped into the car first, moving as far to the back as she could. She glared at Jacob, who stayed by the door, well away from her.

  “Is it cold in here?” Tom asked.

  No one answered, but Rob’s shoulders shook, and it wasn’t from the temperature.

  It was only a ten-minute walk to The Bears’ Den, a small pub on a side street near police headquarters. Lilith had been here for lunch twice, and picked up takeout for dinner one night last week. The place, a popular hangout for Bruins’ fans, was decorated with memorabilia, including what was practically a shrine dedicated to Bobby Orr, one of the team’s most famous defensemen. Even the menu was based on the Bobby Orr Pizza Restaurants he’d opened in Ontario, Canada, after retiring from the NHL.

  Lilith opted to stop at the ladies’ room, and when she joined her colleagues at the table, she sat as far away from Jacob as she could.

  Trevor or
dered a jug of draft, proclaiming them all off duty for the rest of the day—team leader’s prerogative. It was after two, and judging by how tired everyone looked, including Jacob, it was probably a good decision. It would be well after three when they got back, and most of them packed up by four thirty anyway.

  Trevor poured the beer and raised his glass. “To the newest member of the task force.”

  Lilith lowered her glass, thinking it was her.

  “Special task force consultant, Jacob Andrews.”

  “What?” she blurted out, although it sounded more like a squawk. “How can he be an official team member? He’s a civilian, damn it.” Had they all gone crazy?

  “He has a high degree of knowledge concerning the origins of New Horizon. Jacob has agreed to answer all of our questions about the cult and any of its affiliations he remembers. I’ve already got a couple of uniforms following up on rodeo horse-breeding organizations. That’s how the commune supported itself back then, and since they’ve obviously got funds, it’s a place to start—follow the money as they say. It works for the IRS. We’re also looking into colleges and universities in Utah, but there are more than 200 of them in the state, so it’s going to take a while to contact them all.”

  Jacob’s blue eyes were pleading for acceptance. She might not know much about him, but he had one thing in his favor. He wasn’t her tormentor. Those cold, gray eyes were branded in her memory forever.

  “So,” Trevor picked up his glass again. “Welcome aboard, Jacob.”

  Grudgingly, Lilith raised her glass to her lips and sipped. This had been her idea in the first place, so she couldn’t very well be churlish about it now.

 

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