The White Lily

by Susanne Matthews

  “Like Eloise was? Look what happened to her when she defied him. The only thing that fits about my sister’s murder is that my uncle discovered she was planning to leave the country and ordered her killed. No one defies him and escapes unscathed. Fear is a powerful weapon in controlling others, and if he added drugs to the mix ...”

  Lilith felt the color fade from her face. Her own sister’s suicide—might it have been murder? What if Ruby-Ann hadn’t known the champagne was poisoned? That would change everything. Refusing to drink it probably hadn’t been an option. Her parents had refused to believe Ruby-Ann sent her daughter off who knew where and killed herself. Maybe they were right.

  “Lilith, I know how difficult it is for you to accept this, but if they were drugged, then they can’t be held accountable any more than we could blame someone whose mind snaps under pressure,” Trevor said softly.

  She bit her lip in an effort to pull her façade firmly into place before it slipped once more.

  Jacob reached for her arm, and the connection she’d felt in the morgue yesterday returned. He didn’t let go. “You told me the women had probably cleaned the bodies and sanitized the apartments and might even have done so under the influence of scopolamine. They didn’t drug the women or poison them. Those deaths aren’t their sins; they’re my uncle’s. Even James can’t be blamed if he was under the influence of some mind-altering drugs. He’s beyond our justice system now, but I’ve no doubt he’ll atone for his sins. How old are these women?”

  “The youngest are being kept at a juvenile facility,” Trevor answered.

  “There are four of them between the ages of twelve and fifteen,” she said shakily, visions of her niece looking like her mother at that age filling her mind. “We have deprogrammers working with them, but it’s a slow process. The other women are between thirty-five and sixty.”

  Jacob’s brow furrowed. “Doesn’t it strike you as odd that none of the women you have are of child-bearing age?” he asked.

  “I hadn’t realized that until you mentioned it,” Trevor said. “Your other brothers may not be acquiring their wives and children the way James did. There may be a baby mill out there with women popping out children every nine months—hell of a way to live.”

  “What I don’t understand is why my uncle allowed James to kidnap women and then, after the babies were born, leave their bodies out there for you to find. Why would he would risk everything to satisfy my brother’s taste in women?”

  Trevor scowled. “It’ll be one of the first questions I ask him when we have him safely behind bars.”

  “It kept us off balance,” Rob said. “If it hadn’t been for an error on someone’s part, we might not have caught him, and Trevor, you know it, too. Killing Lucy Green brought Faye onto our radar, and the Williamsons bringing Baby Howard to the hospital pulled it all together. In fact, as Faye pointed out, without the Green murder, we’d have been spinning our wheels. We’d never have known about the New Horizon cult or the Prophet. He’d have taken Faye, and I wouldn’t even have realized she was gone.”

  “I’m sorry, Rob. I can’t undo what he’s done, but I’ll do my best to help you catch my uncle. I’ll gladly join your team. When can we get started?”

  Lilith wanted to say something else about this outlandish plan to relocate the prisoners out of the Prophet’s grasp, but Jacob was right. Those women, especially the young girls, shouldn’t be held accountable for what others had done, and maybe, like the Williamsons, one or two of them might be disenchanted with their leader now that they’d been away from him this long.

  “Okay,” she said, reluctantly. “If we’re going to do this, you have to be prepped. But, Jacob, you have to consider something else. Your uncle came to power because the people believed he’d been resurrected. What’s to stop them from believing the same of you? You’ve come back from the dead, and you’re offering salvation.”

  He looked at her, sadness on his face. “I intend to make sure they understand I’m no saint, nor prophet, nor god. I’m a man trying to right a wrong. I owe it to my parents and my grandfather to try to undo the damage my uncle has done to these people, and I’ll do everything it takes to succeed.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Jacob glanced at Lilith—her face hadn’t hid the fact that spending time with him one on one was the last thing she wanted to do. He’d spare her the agony of working with him if he could, but he needed her expertise on cults, and she was the only woman on the task force. Drugs or no drugs, he was related to the Prophet. He might be able to make excuses for James, but there was no defending what his uncle had done and was planning to do. How many people had died already because of that man?

  He scanned the faces of the team members in the room, grateful they’d agreed to give him this chance to make amends. This might be his way to atone for the horrors his brother had committed. Jacob had failed to save Eloise, but if he could rescue the members of New Horizon, especially those young girls, then it had to count for something. He had to prevent the Great Burning, too.

  Judging by the way he clenched his jaw so tightly, Trevor was determined to make this happen. Rob was looking down at the screen saver on his phone, his brow furrowed in concern, as it should be, considering his wife and unborn child were at risk. Tom was pacing nervously, his complexion ruddier than before. And Lilith? She still looked as if she were on her way to her own execution.

  “Lilith, how long will it take you to get Jacob up to speed?” Trevor asked.

  “At least a day. Maybe more. There’s a lot of material in the file, Jacob,” she said. There was something in the way she said his name, the two syllables so clearly defined, so different from the Aussie way of running them together, that sent shivers down his spine. That was the way she’d said it in the dream, but then, her voice had been husky, not cold and competent as it was now.

  Hopefully she was wrong about the men and women in jail. The last thing he wanted was for them to think of him as some kind of savior. He was offering them their lives and freedom. He wasn’t expecting anything in return but diligent work on his farm. They’d find life hard enough in the Northern Territory with its equatorial climate and dangers, the least of which were the crocodiles.

  “We don’t have that much time. I’ve made arrangements for him to meet with the cult members tomorrow, and if he’s going to offer them that deal, I’ve got to run it by the director and the State Department first. Rob, call Faye and see if she’ll talk to Jacob tonight. She can tell him what life was like while she was a prisoner, and you can fill in the gaps with what you experienced and your general knowledge of cults. He can read the rest of the file and that manifesto tonight.”

  “Will do. I’m sure it won’t be a problem, especially if the task force springs for Chinese. She’s had a craving for it the last couple of days.” Rob turned to Jacob. “I sure as hell hope this cockamamie plan works. What if it isn’t a big enough carrot and they don’t jump at it?”

  “If they won’t talk to me and accept my offer, we’ll be stuck between a rock and a hard place. Do you have another idea that might work?”

  “No, but Faye might. My wife’s very good at putting facts together and coming up with new ideas and theories. As far as meeting you goes—she may not be too friendly. She and Jimmy, I mean James, didn’t part on the best of terms.”

  He chuckled. “Is she likely to shoot me?”

  “No,” Rob said, “she’s a lousy shot, but I’d keep an eye on my mother-in-law if I were you.”

  The phone rang and Tom reached for it. “Adams ... Okay. I’ll take it at my desk.” He hung up. “That was the switchboard operator. I had her hold all our calls except one. Mrs. Douglass from CPS is on the line. Maybe we’ll finally get some answers.” He walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

  “CPS?” Jacob asked.

  “Child Protective Services. They arranged the family placements for your nieces and nephew. We’re working two cases simultaneously, so until you’re f
amiliar with all the lingo, it might be confusing. While we’re all in this together and we’re basically looking at different facets of the same case, I’m going to give Tom and Rob the lead on the murder-kidnappings and the suspect we’ve nicknamed the new Harvester, while you and Lilith will deal with the Prophet and his people. I’ve got a couple of calls to make. Why don’t you two go into the interrogation room and get to work? It’s not your favorite place, Jacob, but at least it’s quiet and you can work in relative comfort. Lilith’s office would be a tight squeeze.”

  He’d just gotten to his feet when Tom burst into the room once more, his face as red as it had been earlier.

  “What’s the matter?” Trevor asked. “Don’t tell me she won’t cooperate.”

  “She’s cooperating, all right. The woman’s singing like a damn canary, but you aren’t going to like this. She had no idea the Volts had put their granddaughter up for adoption. Ethan Newcomb was placed with Lindsay and Bryan Winchester almost two months ago. They were living in Vermont. She didn’t know they’d moved.”

  “Son of a bitch! Hell of a department she’s running. No wonder she wouldn’t answer my questions,” Rob said. “She probably didn’t know what was going on. What about the Watters baby?”

  “She’s with Estelle’s sister in Hershey, Pennsylvania. I’ve called the Hershey police, and they’re going to send a squad car to check the house. She didn’t answer her phone, but she could be out, and CPS doesn’t have a cell number on file for her.”

  “So it’s official? My niece and nephew are back in the hands of the cult?”

  Lilith shook her head. “It may look that way, and for my money, it’s probably true, but we don’t have any proof. All we know for sure is that Faith and Ethan, two of the children involved in the original Harvester case, were taken by the same person.”

  “It was the same way when we were looking for the missing women the first time,” Trevor said. “We had theories, but no proof. Damn! How does he manage to stay a step ahead of us?”

  “So, technically, we could still be looking at child-trafficking here,” Tom said. “Don’t forget, the kidnapper has Cassie, too.”

  “Who’s Cassie?” Jacob asked.

  “She’s the Winchesters’ four-month-old daughter. She’s collateral damage,” Lilith said, through gritted teeth.

  • • •

  Jacob paled substantially, and his lips compressed into a tight line, the muscle in his clenched jaw jumping. If Lilith hadn’t been convinced he had nothing to do with his uncle’s plan, she was now.

  “Amos left a message,” Tom continued, somewhat calmer than he’d been. The man’s color was almost normal, not the deep puce it had been when he’d entered the room.

  “He’s completed the autopsies on the Winchesters. Whoever killed Mrs. Winchester had military training. Snapping the neck like that takes precision.”

  Rob slammed his fist on the table. “Military training? Sounds familiar, doesn’t it? If the Prophet’s involved, I’ll bet I know who’s doing his handiwork ...”

  The phone rang in the conference room cutting him off, and Tom, the one closest to it, answered.

  “Adams. ... What’s up? ... Seriously? ... That big? ... Have they been checked? ... Send them up.” He hung up and turned to Lilith, a huge grin on his face. “You’ve been holding out on us, Munroe. Someone sent you flowers. Bomb squad checked it out. It’s clean. Don’t tell your boyfriend we thought his love token might be wired,” he said and laughed.

  She scrunched up her face and bit her lower lip. “There must be some mistake. I don’t know anyone who’d send me flowers.” She looked questioningly at Trevor. Had he gotten her roses instead of ice cream? But he shook his head.

  “Are you certain they’re for me?”

  “Maybe someone fell under your spell after seeing you on television yesterday,” Rob teased. “You looked hot, babe.”

  She swallowed, forcing back the panic that threatened. Pulling herself together, she scowled at Rob.

  “Yeah, right, and for God’s sake, don’t call me babe,” she said, rolling her eyes at him. “That’s the name of a pig from Australia, isn’t it?”

  She glanced at Jacob and could’ve sworn there’d been relief, quickly hidden, on his face.

  “It is, and one of our more famous film stars.”

  “Instead of playing guessing games,” Trevor said, “why don’t we take a ten-minute break and find out who spent a fortune on flowers? While we’re out there, Rob can call Faye and tell her she’s got company coming for dinner. I’ll speak to her if you think it’ll help, and the Chinese is on me.”

  Lilith followed the others back to the bullpen. The elevator sounded, and she stepped forward as the doors opened. A uniformed police officer carried a large bouquet of mixed flowers into the room and set them on the nearest desk. The scent of lilies quickly filled the area, and Lilith started to shake.

  “They’re from him,” she whispered. “They’re from the killer-kidnapper. The same arrangement was on the hall table at the Winchester house.” Someone reached for her, and if he hadn’t, she’d have collapsed to the floor. She clung to the man’s arm as she would a lifeline. Her stomach churned, and she forced herself to ignore the bile rising in her throat. Knowing she was on another sadist’s personal radar filled her with terror.

  “I agree,” Tom said, rifling through the folder on his desk before coming up with a photograph. “This is from the package Quantico sent yesterday. This is a crime scene photograph from the Richardsons’ dining room. Apparently, the bouquet is a standard arrangement that can be ordered online or from any florist. It’s even got a name—American Dream—minus the US flags it usually comes with. Two arrangements could be a coincidence, but three is a pattern.”

  “Those bouquets aren’t cheap. Something that size has to set you back close to a hundred dollars. He’s either paying for them online with a credit card or purchasing them in person. Either way, we’ve got him now. You said he’d make a mistake,” Rob said. “This is it.”

  “Is there a card?” Trevor asked, stepping close to the desk.

  The man who held her, who’d come to her rescue, had to be Jacob, and with that realization came the sensations she’d been numb to in her panic. Heat filled her, and she wanted to sink into the security of the warm flesh and blood wall behind her.

  “Do you want me to look for it?” Trevor asked, snapping her out of her trance.

  She shook her head. Staring at the flowers, she didn’t see beautiful blooms; instead, she saw deadly, monstrous weeds. Reluctantly, she stepped away from Jacob, and using a tissue from the box on the desk, she reached for the card. By the time she had it out of the bouquet, Rob was beside her, handing her a pair of latex gloves.

  Praying no one noticed the way her hands trembled, she dropped the small card on the desk and put on the gloves. Removing the card from the envelope, she read aloud:

  Congratulations, Lily. Well done. It’s about time the FBI hired someone with brains. Make no mistake, I will recover what belongs to us. You’ll make a lovely addition to the stable.

  The last words were barely a whisper as terror suffused her and the room closed in around her.

  “No signature? The coward didn’t have the decency to sign it,” Jacob said, his voice filling with anger as he moved closer to her.

  The desire to fling herself into the safety of his arms was almost unbearable, and only the knowledge that giving in to the urge would be the biggest mistake of her life kept her rooted to the floor beside him.

  “There’s no mistaking that last line. It’s definitely a threat aimed squarely at you. I guess you did catch his attention with the press conference,” Rob said.

  Lilith shook her head, her eyes bright with unshed tears, fighting to keep the fear filling her from bubbling to the surface. “He’s angry, and this is his way of showing it. He’s posturing. It’s for shock value.” And he succeeded.

  “I’m not a profiler,” Tom said, “but I s
ay it worked. This shocked the hell out of me. You know, that retirement I put off last month is starting to look damn good.”

  “You may be right, and it might only be posturing, designed to frighten you, but I’m not going to risk it,” Trevor said. “We suspected the press conference would annoy him, and he’s trying to strike back at you. He sees you as a threat and wants to minimize your effectiveness by upsetting you. I’ll assign a protection detail.”

  “That’s not necessary, Trevor. I’m armed.”

  “Lilith, listen to him. I know who’s doing this, and so does Tom. I’ll bet Trevor’s figured it out, too. It’s Pierce,” Rob said, spitting the name out like a bad taste in his mouth. “The son of a bitch is back. He’s using Jimmy’s method of announcing himself at the hospital after Faye’s attack. He wants us to think there’s no place we can keep Lilith safe. He made a fool of us during the investigation, and he’s rubbing our noses in it now. Pierce is a big enough bastard to have enjoyed killing Bryan Winchester last night, and since Bryan weighed in at two fifty, his killer needed to be a strong son of a bitch, too. I’ve seen your shooting range scores, Lilith. If Pierce comes anywhere near you, shoot first and ask questions later.”

  Lilith heard Jacob gasp and turned. His face was as white as the lilies in the bouquet.

  “What is it?”

  “Pierce as in Garett Pierce?” he asked, looking at her with eyes as haunted as hers had been in the mirror yesterday.

  “Yes,” Rob said, his brow furrowed. “Did you know him?”

  “Know him? Oh, yes. I knew him well. He arrived in the commune about a year before I left. He was the man my uncle ordered to whip me. Fifty lashes, and he hit as hard the last time as he did the first. If you’re looking for someone who can kill with impunity, you’ve found your man. And if he’s after the children, you have no time to waste. He’s a cold-blooded bastard who likes to get blood on his hands, and the more vicious the killing, the better. It wouldn’t surprise me if he were the one who’d killed Eloise. Knowing her wouldn’t make a damn bit of difference to him.”