"I'll make sure this information is added to your file," I replied for lack of anything else to say. "I will have to drop by the church some day for one of your services."
He ducked his head as if complimented beyond his expectation, though I could tell it was an act.
"You would be most welcome. Now, can we conduct the business at hand please? My family has duties to fulfill."
"Of course. We are still very concerned about Meghan's reluctance to speak at school. In fact, we have some concerns about all of your children to be completely truthful, Reverend and Mrs. Sanderson."
At this point, I felt as though I were on a roll. I had both parents' attention now. All of the children were still, their eyes lowered, even Meghan. They appeared to be barely breathing for fear of making a noise.
"The children are all far too quiet. They don't appear to enjoy life the way most kids do. They seem to be somewhat nervous and fearful. We are…"
"Ms. Ogemah, who is the 'we' that you speak of?" he asked, once more interrupting with a soft but authoritative voice.
"The school staff and I. We are extremely…"
"I do understand, Ms. Ogemah. You are stating that our children are not like the others. That is to be expected. They are not like other children because they have been raised in the true faith. They are not interested in enjoying life the way other youngsters do. Our way is not commercial, nor is it egocentric. We are happy in a different manner. Our joy resides within and is contained in the worship of our God."
At this point, he stood, looking down at me from his height. I almost cowered in my chair. I didn't cower easily, but there was something about his eyes, the way he held his head and his hands, that frightened me into silence. I could only imagine being a child in that household. If he had that effect on me, I believed that his children would be far too scared to ever get out of line.
He gestured toward his offspring and his wife. "Please, Ms. Ogemah. Interview each of my children if you wish. Ask them if they do not have enough food or clothing or a roof over their heads. Ask them if they do not have joy when they enter the House of God. They may not have all the toys that other children possess, but possessions are mere trifles in comparison to the love that surrounds them. They are truly the anointed ones and they consider themselves extremely lucky."
"Reverend," I said, "I'm not disparaging your religion. I am trying to—"
"Oh, we are well aware of what you are trying to do," the reverend intoned, his voice never rising above a quiet rumble. "You are trying to force my children to be like all others. They are not and they never will be. I do not wish that for them and neither does their mother. You will see, in the future, just how much power and influence they will exert on this world. They will be known throughout the universe as the true Children of The Way."
He never raised his voice, but his eyes began to fire up. He was lecturing now, proselytizing, as though he were in front of a pulpit. But it was more than that. He oozed his own power, the kind that came from a fervour within, an obsession that literally seeped from his pores and surrounded the listener like fog.
I found that I was barely able to think. I felt as though I had been swept into another dimension.
There was an even deeper hush in the room. The children and Dorothy fastened their eyes on him and the looks on their faces showed a veneration that went beyond mere kinship.
As I looked around at them, avoiding the preacher's eyes, I saw only scrubbed and dressed and well-fed children whose body types were similar to their father, which explained the thin-boned stature. I saw a mother with a small child sitting very comfortably on her lap. I saw a well-organized and well-cared-for home.
I did not see abuse, I only felt it.
I heard an overly zealous man, but it might only be my own prejudice that led me to think of the children as maltreated.
The reverend wound up his lecture on the evils of the world.
"Ms. Ogemah, if you will listen to and be mindful of the Lord's words, He says this in The Book: 'If ye walk in My Statutes, and keep My Commandments, and do them, then I will give you rain in due season, and the land shall yield her increase, and the trees of the field shall yield their fruit.' This is what my family is doing. We keep the Statutes and Commandments. We risk that others do not understand us, but we have never harmed our children and they will prosper, though in ways most of the world will not understand until the final enlightenment."
He paused, held my eyes again and smiled kindly as he reached for my hand to pull me gently to a standing position.
I was now very close to him. I could smell his aftershave and his passion. I was drowning in a pool of obsession that wafted from his strikingly blue eyes.
"Please do come to our church some time and perhaps you will learn and understand."
He whirled around to face his family, one hand still resting on my arm, as though presenting me to them.
"Meghan," he said softly and benignly. "Will you please speak to Ms. Ogemah and set her heart at rest?"
Meghan slipped off her mother's lap and came up to me.
Her little hand clasped mine and she said, "I'm sorry I have worried you, Ms. Ogemah. I promise I will talk at school."
She seemed genuinely contrite. Her eyes were clear and beguiling. Her voice sounded sincere. When her father nodded, she went back to her mother's lap and sat down again, her hands folded, still looking up at me with a light in her eyes.
Her mother smiled and squeezed her reassuringly, proudly.
"Aaron will see you out," Reverend Sanderson said and the boy was at my side instantly.
"Thank you for caring about our children so much, even if it is misguided. I assure you they are fine."
I looked over at the family and this time, each of the faces turned toward mine and appeared grateful yet pitying.
"I am glad to discover that you are all fine," I managed to parrot. "Meghan, I look forward to hearing you talk at school and so do all your friends."
Now they all stood, smiling, some saying, "Good-bye Ms. Ogemah," some actually waving, as Aaron walked out to the little porch with me.
He shut the door and stood silently as I put my shoes back on and then he helped me to my feet even though I had not asked him to and really didn't need any assistance. On purpose, I thought, to make me feel old or powerless or both.
He hung onto my hands, the way his father had. The look that he gave me sent a chill down my spine. He was slightly taller than I and his eyes bored right into me. He stood close enough that I could smell the scent of tea and chocolate cookie on his breath.
"There's a part to that section of the Bible that my father didn't quote, Ms. Ogemah," he said, almost whispering as though he didn't want anyone else to hear. "'And ye shall chase your enemies, and they shall fall before you by the sword.'"
He laughed as he dropped my hands and walked toward the door.
"You can see why he left that out! You would certainly have taken it the wrong way. Now of course I never said that either. I sure hope we don't have to call your superiors regarding harassment. Now you have a great day! See you at school."
And he disappeared, shutting me into the chilly porch. I turned and almost ran out to my car, where I stood shaking for a while, wondering what just happened.
It was not a moment that I, to my infinite regret, shared with Emily Taylor until it was too late.
Chapter 28: Brimstone
As she trudged down the stairs at Brother's side, she looked down at his worn shoes. She saw everything from the perspective of her downward gaze.
Standing at the door, lunch pail in hand, he looked back at her. She tried to smile up at him, raised her hand to wave to him.
Without glancing from his paper, The Preacher Man slapped the greeting away.
When she dared to look up again, the doorway was empty. Her stomach rumbled and felt achy, but the pain of his parting was worse. Brother had told her not to cry. It made The Preacher Man angry.
But today she could not stop the tears from flowing. Her chest was full and heavy and she was unable to prevent the sobs from leaking out. She tried to draw in her breath, to block the heaviness, but instead she made a shuddering, high-pitched sound. It was loud and intrusive in the silence of the room.
The Preacher Man leaned over, hovering above her, a giant bird in black, his face long and pointed, his lips curled back as he dove toward her.
"You are sick. Repent," he hissed.
Holy water, laced with vinegar, dripped onto her back, seeping through her thin shirt. She began to shiver and whimper.
Behind her, she felt the movement rather than saw it as The Preacher Man whipped around. His huge fist crashed into Big Brother, who was futilely trying to wrench her away. Flinging Big Brother to the floor with one strong arm, The Preacher Man swung her around to face him, her small body fluttering in the air like a rag doll.
The air flowed too quickly back into her lungs, making her choke with the effort. For a moment he let her hang in the air, his eyes level with hers, then he dropped her like a sack onto the floor.
She lay there, panting and sobbing, as she heard The Preacher Man screaming invectives at Big Brother.
"Jezebel, all women are Jezebels," he said.
Chapter 29: Jacob
Kristen and Jacob were seated in the boat, drifting past the verdant expanse of the Rideau Hills, listening to the sounds of the water lapping at the shore.
Birds wheeled above their heads, hollered hello, or dove to snap a fish from safety.
It was a warm, fresh and clear kind of day, the breeze comforting and soft on their skin, the river calm as the sun began to set.
It was the end of a glorious summer, the first that Jacob had spent with Kristen. A series of many firsts in which Adrienne and Jordan had come to be happy and comfortable with their new friend. In which Kristen's presence in the kitchen in the mornings became almost as common as Helen's.
Kristen, perhaps because she was a teacher or perhaps it was just her nature, was kind, patient and understanding with Jordan, even when his lost little soul threw him into screaming fits. She was calm, professional and tender.
Jordan began to settle more quickly when she was with him during those rages. She'd even told Jacob that she was doing some research on oxygen deprivation and how they might help Jordan as he grew older.
She'd met Jacob's parents and Christine, whose approval had been swift and sincere. They loved her laugh, her sense of humour, affection for the children and open, honest nature.
"She's not like Laura," his mother said to him frankly after the first few get-togethers. "And to be honest, I'm glad. Laura, as much as I loved her, was always kind of distant, cool. I know now that she likely had problems all along, but I never really got to know her, I'm afraid. With Kristen, what you see is what you get. And I like what I see."
His mother had always been forthright, even when it hurt a little. He wasn't exactly startled to hear her true feelings about his wife. He'd recognized that Laura's personality, her cool exterior, had been difficult to handle or extract. He supposed that the difference between the two women had highlighted Laura's reticent nature.
For Kristen was quite different—she was outgoing and energetic and fun. Someone who didn't know her well might mistake her cheerful disposition as indicative of being a pushover or capricious, but Jacob had come to know her as feisty, passionate and intelligent.
That summer was also the beginning of their physical relationship. At first, Jacob had been shy and tentative. He'd not had sex with anyone since his wife's death, so closed off was he in his guilt and unhappiness, and before that, it had been only Laura. Oddly, he felt like a beginner, a new virgin and he was somehow ashamed of his lack of experience. But Kristen, her charm and charisma igniting a passion that he wasn't sure he'd ever enjoyed, eased him into the physical side of their friendship without much trouble. Not only that, she appeared to think that his expertise was quite satisfactory, thank you very much.
Laura had never told him whether or not he was a good lover. He'd had to assume from her eagerness in bed that he was an adequate partner. With Kristen, he felt wonderful. She talked to him, whispered to him, coached him when he needed it and generally taught him how to be a far better lover than he'd ever imagined.
He took some time off in August to spend with Kristen and the children, with his employer's encouragement. May had become such a good friend, almost another mother figure. She knew that Jacob was on the verge of being truly happy once more.
The little family, including Helen, spent a week with Christine and David at their cottage on the Ottawa River. Jacob learned how to manoeuvre the boat and they spent countless hours swimming with the kids just off a small island, where the water was shallow and clear.
This particular afternoon, Adrienne and Jordan had gone on a hike with Chris, Dave and Helen, so Jacob and Kristen were alone in the boat. He knew the time had come to tell her about Laura. When he broached the subject, she said nothing, simply took his hand and lowered her eyes so he could tell the story without scrutiny. Already, she knew him so well.
"When I got home that day, the door was wide open. I knew right away that something was wrong. We didn't have a screen door. It was autumn and leaving the door open just wasn't something we ever did. I came home early because that morning, Laura wasn't herself. She wouldn't tell me what was wrong, but she'd been very quiet since the baby arrived. I thought maybe she was having trouble adjusting to being at home instead of at the office, where everything is hectic and frantic and there are adults buzzing at you all day. Not to mention the fact that I had two huge cases that absorbed so much of my time. So often I wasn't home…"
He trailed off, feeling the tears begin to choke him, but determined to get through it.
"We had a big house in Toronto, one of those glass-and-tile-and-steel modern ones, not like here in Burchill. I rushed straight into the front foyer and I could see Adrienne in the living room. She was in the chair with the baby in her arms, rocking him back and forth. He was…he was still wet, but she had covered him in blankets. She was only six years old."
The tears began to stream down his cheeks. He stifled the sobs that threatened to halt the flow of words. Instead a bitter laugh bubbled from his lips.
"Before all of this, you wouldn't believe the man I was. I never cried as an adult. I was ambitious and in control. I knew where I was headed, what I wanted. I had my life all planned out."
Kristen raised her eyes to him and looked right into him, causing his toes to tingle.
"I don't think that was the real you, Jake," she said. "I'm not sure I would have loved that person."
He took in a deep, shuddering breath, knowing that what she said was true. He'd never really been content in that hectic, big-city atmosphere, never experienced the kind of slow, pleasurable happiness that had filled his life lately. He felt as though he'd been returned to himself. To the childhood that he'd loved, to the person that he'd been taught to be and then had allowed ambition and greed to reshape into someone else.
Perhaps one of the reasons he felt so guilty about Laura was that he knew, on some level, that she'd never known the real Jacob Finch. If she had known him, would any of this have happened? Or would they never have gotten married in the first place?
And then it struck him, incongruently within the midst of his racing thoughts, that Kristen had just said she loved him. He knew at that moment that he had to share this part of him with her, no matter what pain it dredged up in speaking the words aloud.
"I was so confused. I said to Adrienne, 'What's happened?' And I don't think I was very calm about it. She looked up at me, her eyes so full of tears and agony that I couldn't breathe."
"'Why didn't you call someone?' I asked...a stupid question, I know, but I was completely in shock."
"'I knew you would come, Daddy,' she said. I knew you would come! Jesus!"
"I took the baby from her. His breathing was so sha
llow. He was very pale and his little body was twitching. I hugged him and cradled him and called his name while I dialled 911, but he didn't respond. I didn't even ask about Laura. I didn't even know when I called the ambulance that…I don't know where I thought she was or if I was thinking at all."
Once again, the tears were streaming down his face. On the verge of collapsing, he knelt in the boat in front of Kristen, putting his head in her lap. She stroked his cheek and his hair. With those touches, she encouraged him to continue. He sat up, cross-legged in the bottom of the boat, knowing he was getting wet and not caring. Somehow it was fitting.
"Finally Adrienne got through to me. She'd been talking to me the whole time, but I was so wrapped up in Jordan that I hadn't really heard."
"She was telling me, 'Daddy, Mommy is in the bathroom and I didn't know what to do.'"
"Finally I went in and…Laura was in the water, pale and cold, surrounded by waste and vomit. I walked back into the living room like a zombie and put Jordan in Adrienne's arms again. Then I went in once more to that scene. I pulled her out…she was so heavy, so limp…she literally fell onto the floor and I started CPR. I was screaming at her and crying. I kept pumping on her chest and breathing into her mouth. I was frantic, crazy."
"I knew she was dead. There was absolutely no response to anything I did. Then suddenly emergency services were at the front door and they split up between Laura and Jordan. I sat Adrienne on my lap and we watched as they worked on the baby. I knew in my soul that there was nothing that could be done for Laura."
He drew in a deep breath again, calmer and steadier, his fingers intertwined with Kristen's.
"It's truly a blur what happened after that. We all went to the hospital and our doctor, bless him, he took charge of all of us. He treated me, he treated Adrienne. We were both in shock. He admitted Jordan immediately and began to perform every miracle he could to bring my son back."
The Emily Taylor Mystery Bundle Page 49