“I should go,” Holly said, turning to the door.
“Stop.” Aspen jumped in front of Holly, blocking the door. Holly, clearly rattled, backed away, peering at me with desperate eyes. Aspen closed the gap between them and pressed one finger to Holly’s chest. Holly gasped as Aspen demanded information.
“Why are you here? Are you working for him?”
“Of course not. You know how I feel about that man.”
“I thought I did. But now you’re running his errands.”
“Because I have to, Aspen. I have no choice. He’s still my husband, and the prophet.”
Aspen scoffed, shaking her head. “What did he tell you about Jonathan?”
“Nothing, I promise you. When I returned home after delivering your phone, I was a little defiant. Clarence is punishing me by sending me here. He knows I have no interest in doing his bidding; that’s why he chose me. Don’t you see that?”
“I don’t know what I see anymore.” Aspen shook her head, disgust painted across her delicate face. “I thought you understood me.”
“I do,” Holly said with wide eyes. “You have no idea. That man makes my life a living . . . well, you know what I mean without me having to spew vulgarities.”
I dealt with liars each and every day. Holly was telling the truth, I could feel it. “Holly?”
“Yes.” She seemed relieved that I’d interrupted the stand off between her and the skeptical Aspen.
“Will you help us?”
“With what?”
“The prophet. We’re going to take him down. He’s betrayed everyone in your community, and it’s time he is brought to justice.”
“Yes.” Holly’s eyes lit up. “Yes, I can help. I’ll do whatever you say.”
Aspen turned to me, daggers in her eyes. “Jonathan, no. We can’t trust her.”
“Yes, you can!” Holly said, voice raised, tears building in her brown eyes. “I despise that man with every fiber of my being. I’ll do whatever you need me to do, I swear on my faith.”
“Don’t do that,” Aspen said, her eyes pressed tight, her hands secured to her hips. “That’s blasphemy.”
“No, it’s not.” A tear fell down Holly’s cheek. “I know he’s going to marry Ruthie. And I know he’s trying to get inside your head, to torture you as he does me. I can’t stand it anymore, and I want to help you. Please let me.”
I walked to Aspen, my fingers grazing her elbow. She flinched at my touch, and I did my best to ignore it. “What do we have to lose?”
Aspen sighed, looking up at the ceiling, hands still clinging to her hips.
“Everything.”
“Not true,” I disagreed. “Look, we have just a few weeks to get a warrant before he takes Ruthie as his wife. We’re on borrowed time and we have to act fast, we need information, as much as we can possibly get. Holly’s in his home. She can get us information without anyone knowing; she can fly under the radar.”
“Under the what?” Annoyance filled her voice. She hated when she couldn’t understand me, and this turn of phrase seemed to push her over the edge of her already developing anger.
“No one will notice her.”
“He’s right. No one pays attention to me there. I’m practically invisible as it is.”
Aspen said nothing but looked back at Holly, who was clutching the doorknob as if her life depended on it.
“He sent you to me, and now he’s sent you here. You’re not invisible, Holly, not in the slightest.”
“He’s punishing me, that’s all. Tomorrow he’ll go back to pretending I don’t exist while I wash and iron his clothes. That’s all I am to him, a laundress. Please, Aspen, let me be something else. Let me help. I’ll do whatever I can, I promise you.”
Aspen crossed her arms in front of her chest and cocked her head to the side. “And what do you want in return? What do you expect from me? From us?”
Holly paused, swallowed hard, and tilted her chin up with confidence. “I want out.”
Aspen gasped and her reaction came in an angry whisper. “Out of our community?”
Holly wiped her teary eyes with the back of her sleeve. “There’s no place for me there. I want another chance, another start, and I can’t find that within the church.”
“And you want us to help you leave? No,” Aspen said. “Absolutely not.”
“I don’t understand. Are the rumors not true?”
“What are you talking about?”
“A few years ago, you helped one of your sister wives leave. You drove her off the compound.”
Aspen’s nostrils flared. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. That was a special circumstance. Lehi beat her within an inch of her life; I had no choice.”
“Neither do I.” Holly shrugged. “If I stay there, I’ll die, Aspen. It’s killing me. Clarence is slowly depleting my will to live.”
Aspen rolled her eyes. “You’re just being dramatic. Once Clarence is gone, you’ll be fine, you’ll see. I’m not going to help you leave.”
“I will,” I interrupted, ignoring Aspen’s volcanic stare. “I’ll get you out.”
“Jonathan!”
I turned to look Aspen in the eye. It pained me to see her anger now directed at me, but I didn’t care. There were larger issues at hand, and she wasn’t seeing the big picture. “Do you want to save Ruthie or not?”
“Of course I do! How can you even ask that?” Her voice was incredulous, insulted.
“Look, we need to save your girl, and I think Holly is exactly who we need to help us do that.”
Aspen said nothing, but nodded, her eyes pressed shut. I gestured for Holly to take a seat. She wiped the last of her tears from her cheeks, sat in the chair, and released a sigh of relief.
I returned to my desk chair and closed my laptop, tearing the end of the envelope from Clarence Black. “Now, let’s get started.”
Chapter 8
Dear Detective,
It has come to my attention that you are taking advantage of a poor, misguided (and possibly deranged) woman of the faith. Because I cannot determine why you would entertain her foolish delusions, I find myself questioning your integrity and professionalism. In fact, I must assume that you are aiding her for personal gain. Perhaps she is trading sexual favors for your assistance . . . perhaps you just like playing with the minds of those who cannot think clearly for themselves. Whatever the case may be, I must warn you that if you do not cease all investigation of myself and of my people and do not leave the woman in question alone, I will be forced to report you to the chief of police. Take heed of my warnings, sir, for I will do everything necessary to protect my people, even those who betray me. You, however, are fair game. So, watch your back . . . or you’ll be crushed like the insect that you are.
The one true prophet, Clarence Black
I’d studied the prophet’s note more than a dozen times. Aspen was incensed when she read it, taking offense to his insinuations that she was delusional and stupid. But once I explained that he was doing whatever he could to break our bond, our camaraderie, our partnership, she understood the point of the letter. She understood his plan.
Divide and conquer.
“What is that mantra?” I asked her. “The one you always tell your children and the other wives.”
“Keep sweet,” she said with a nod.
“Yes, that’s it,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “Just keep sweet. Never let him see you sweat. We’ll win this . . . we will. You know what this letter tells me?”
I flicked the paper before tossing it on my desk.
“What?”
“He’s nervous. He’s feeling vulnerable and scared. You scare him, Aspen.”
“Impossible,” she scoffed, shaking her head.
“No,” Holly interjected. “I agree. You have him rattled. He thinks if he can get Jonathan to abandon you, you won’t have any support and you’ll give up, you’ll give in.”
Aspen’s nostrils flared and her cheeks grew
red again. Slowly, she said behind gritted teeth, “Never. There are too many lives at stake. I can’t let him hurt anyone else. I can’t let those gentiles ruin any more lives.”
Lines formed above her nose. “I . . . I’m sorry, I didn’t mean you. You know that, right?”
“Of course,” I assured her, brushing my hand against her elbow, grateful that she didn’t flinch again at my touch. Although it was quite possible that it was a deliberate, guilt-ridden action, I didn’t care. My relief was all consuming.
“What gentiles? And what do you mean there are too many lives at stake? I’m so confused by this discussion,” Holly said.
The dread on Aspen’s face was apparent. With her brow knitted and her eyes pleading, I knew she wanted to give Holly as little information as possible.
“I, uh.” I turned to Holly. “I think the less you know, the better, quite honestly.”
“How am I supposed to help you if I don’t know anything?”
“You know some of the details. You know the prophet is trying to silence Aspen. For now, that’s all we can tell you, I’m afraid. Just know that there is a group of gentiles involved . . . if and when the time comes, we’ll fill you in on the rest of the details. That’s just how it has to be for now. It’s safer for you and for Aspen if you don’t know too much.”
“I understand.” Her face didn’t match her words, but I didn’t care. It was time to construct our plan.
“Speaking of gentiles, I think that’s our next step in all of this—making contact with some of the prophet’s . . . customers. Now, obviously, this is something I’ll handle alone. You two would give us away in about a half a second.”
I chuckled and the two women looked at one another before Holly laughed and Aspen cracked an understanding smile.
I opened the laptop and retrieved one of the records. “Maybe if I can get one of them to crack. Like this guy here . . . Jim Penowsky. He’s been arrested half a dozen times for alcohol-related incidents . . . a few times at the same bar in town.”
“So?” Aspen looked confused.
“So, I’ll check him out . . . maybe buy him a drink . . . see if I can dig up any information.”
“You think that’ll work? That someone will talk so easily?”
“I take it you don’t spend a lot of time around drunks,” I teased, giving her a playful wink and nudging her forearm.
“We’re allowed to drink, but I don’t know anyone who does. We’re a dry home, except when we have weddings at the house. Paul doesn’t approve of alcohol.” She turned to Holly. “Do you?”
“Clarence does,” Holly said. “He loves white wine. He and Janine drink quite often.”
“Interesting, I would’ve thought it’d be banned.”
“Standard LDS aren’t supposed to drink, but we have different rules. We can have caffeine, too. I have coffee every morning.”
“You’d think it’d be the other way around,” I said, moving my hands back and forth. “I mean, seriously, I’d think you guys would be under more restrictions.”
Both women simply shrugged and I raised both eyebrows in surprise. Elizabeth was raised in a traditional Mormon household and was not allowed to drink caffeine or alcohol. However, once in college she indulged in both and her Diet Coke addiction was still going strong after more than a decade. She often blamed her strict upbringing for causing her to rebel, and I’d tease her that to most people, Diet Coke wasn’t exactly a rebellion.
Different strokes for different folks.
“Anyway, didn’t mean to digress, but back to Penowsky. I don’t know what kind of guy he is . . . other than the fact that when he gets drunk, he fights . . . a lot. So, maybe he also gets wordy.”
“So, you’re going to talk to him?” Aspen asked, narrowing her eyes.
“Yep. I’ll be casual about it, don’t worry. I’ll see what I can find out.”
“And what should we do?” Aspen asked, impatience hovering in her sharp voice. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”
“They won’t stay idle, I promise. Just keep sweet for now. I’ll let you know what our next step is as soon as I figure it out.”
Holly nodded with a decisive smile, but Aspen’s face was filled with conflict.
“That doesn’t sit well with me. The clock is ticking, Jonathan. I have to keep him from Ruthie.”
“Give me a couple weeks, Aspen, that’s all I need to pursue Penowsky. After that, we’ll regroup and decide our next step. And if you think of something on your end, text me. Shit, that reminds me.”
I reached into my pocket and grabbed the burner phone I picked up the night before. “I want you to use this phone whenever you need to get a hold of me.”
“Oh.” Relief swept across Aspen’s features. The hard lines of her face were softened and the beauty I’d known the past few months returned. “Thank you.”
“Use the other one to contact your husband, your sister wives. Just not me. I already programmed my number in.” I turned to Holly, attempting to make light of our unique situation. “Obviously, I didn’t think to get you one since we just met an hour ago, but I can get one for you if you think it’s necessary.”
“That’s all right, Clarence barely notices me.” She smiled. “And for the first time, I’m grateful. But when I get home he might ask about your reaction to the letter. What should I tell him?”
“Tell him you delivered it and left immediately . . . that you didn’t get a chance to read my reaction,” I instructed. “Don’t feed into his games.”
“No,” Aspen said. “Tell him Jonathan looked nervous, scared.”
I turned to Aspen with a knitted brow, not understanding what that would accomplish and for the first time since Holly entered my office, she smiled. “We’ll beat him at his own game. Make him think he’s affecting you . . . that he’s getting under our skin.”
Holly’s face lit up like a lightbulb. “I’m more than happy to do that.”
I tilted my head to the side, mesmerized by the wheels constantly spinning inside Aspen’s head. “You never cease to amaze me. You know, I think you’re onto something, Little House.”
“Little House?” Holly asked.
“It’s a long story,” Aspen answered Holly, but her eyes never left mine. “A very long story.”
I swear I wanted to drop to my knees. The mounting power this woman had over my emotions was no joke. Right then and there I knew I had to take my own advice.
Just keep sweet, you lovestruck moron.
“I’d better get back before Clarence wonders why I stayed so long.”
“Good idea,” Aspen agreed. “I’ll leave in a little while, so we’re not seen together.”
“Thank you for trusting me,” Holly said.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, but Aspen stayed silent, offering Holly nothing but a curt nod. I’d always considered myself a jaded human being—after the hundreds of cases I’d worked on and the horrors I’d seen—but when it came to making others earn trust, Aspen had me beat . . . beat by a long shot. One of the many things I admired about this dainty yet fierce woman.
After an all-too-exciting dinner of Chinese takeout in front of the television set, I ventured out to the Broken Oar bar about thirty minutes from my apartment. It was a dive, a real shithole with several lights burned out on the marquee, cigarette butts strewn across the entrance, and a billowing cloud of smoke that greeted you upon arrival. “Sweet Home Alabama” spewed from the speakers. I’d been lucky enough during my time with the force to avoid this establishment, so tonight was my introduction.
Lucky me.
Crossing the rotting wood floor, my eyes were peeled, taking in the atmosphere. Wood paneling lined the walls and stuffed fish hung on faded plaques. A woman who was clearly stuck in the ’80s with her ratted mullet hair and bright blue eyeshadow was straddling a hefty guy a few feet from the entrance. She ran her hands through the hair he had left on his receding hairline as he puffed his cigar.
Classy joi
nt.
After scanning the seating area, I turned my attention to the main bar. It was at least ten feet long with several empty wooden stools. Without appearing obvious, I examined the guys at the bar.
Show your face, Penowsky.
“What can I get ya?” a tall and surprisingly cute young woman asked from behind the bar. With a towel draped over her shoulder and her hair tied up in a loose bun, she was the one person in the entire establishment who didn’t depress the shit out of me.
What in God’s name are you doing here, gorgeous?
“I’ll take a beer. What do you have on tap?”
“Just about anything you can imagine, sugar.”
“Surprise me,” I said, appreciating the flirtation.
“You got it.” She placed a glass under the tap, tilting it back and filling it to the top. She placed it in front of me and wiped her hands on her towel. “Never seen you here before. Just passing through?”
Go with it.
“Yep,” I said, tilting my forehead. “How’d you know?”
“Well, you don’t exactly fit in with this crowd. I’m guessing if you lived in town, you’d probably steer clear of this place.”
I wiggled my eyebrows as I swallowed my first sip of beer. “Or maybe I just like living dangerously.”
She shook her head and laughed.
“No, seriously, where do you think I’m from?”
A gruff voice boomed from behind me. “You look like a city guy. I’m guessing Phoenix.”
Penowsky.
He looked just like his mugshot. He was a tall guy with a large gut, salt-and-pepper hair, full beard, and deep-set dark eyes. Not the kind of guy you wanted to mess with. His presence was intimidating, and I didn’t intimidate easily.
“Took the words out of my mouth, Jim,” the bartender said, but her eyes didn’t match her words. She was playing along. I guessed she was quite used to his temper in the past and didn’t want to piss him off. Or she wanted a nice tip.
“How’d you guess?” I asked, winking at the bartender.
Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) Page 6