Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series)
Page 22
Ruthie rolled her eyes. “You expect me to believe you instead of my prophet? Puh-lease.” She crossed her arms again.
Some of Isaac’s siblings were really good at thinking on their feet, at making up fibs to get out of trouble. Isaac, however, was never good at that. Not at all. He searched his brain for something to tell Ruthie, something to placate her, to gain her tolerance. But his mind was blank, which happened any time he was overwhelmed. It was like the nerves in his body conspired to trip him up by wiping his brain clean of any kind of coherent thought. So, instead of coming up with a quick-witted story, he resorted to begging. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was the last and only option he had.
“Please don’t tell anyone I’m here, Ruthie. Please.”
“Fine, whatever,” Ruthie said, shaking her head, looking through Isaac.
“Really? You won’t tell Mother Flora or my mother?”
“I said fine,” she snapped. “But this isn’t over . . . not by a long shot. Do you hear me? I will marry the prophet. I will be one of the chosen.”
She walked past their father’s desk and pushed a stack of papers to the floor, walking to the door and slamming it behind her. Isaac’s pulse raced as he ran to the scattered papers on the floor. Quickly, he pulled them together, forming an organized stack and placing them back on the corner of the desk. He retreated to the closet, closing the door behind him, and collapsing on the floor.
I have to tell Father! Mother Aspen needs to know Ruthie found me.
He dug through his bedding to find his cell phone, but his stomach dropped when he pressed the power button and nothing happened. He’d forgotten to charge it.
No, no, no, no, no.
He pulled his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth, back and forth as tears poured from his eyes and guilt swarmed his brain. It was his fault that Ruthie found him. If he’d just stayed put inside the closet, none of this would have happened.
His father would be disappointed, Mother Aspen would be angry at Ruthie, and everything would be his fault. Isaac sobbed and analyzed his predicament, deciding it was best not to tell anyone, to trust that Ruthie would, indeed, keep his secret. No good could come of him telling his father or Mother Aspen. It would only lead to hurt feelings, conflict, and panic.
She won’t tell, he told himself.
She won’t tell, she won’t tell, she won’t tell.
But what if she did?
If only he hadn’t been walking down that path that night . . . if only the prophet hadn’t seen him. If only he hadn’t followed him into the temple, hoping to be redeemed, to be forgiven for whatever sin the prophet thought he had committed . . .
If only . . .
If only . . .
If only . . .
Chapter 27
I woke the next morning to the familiar buzz of my phone. After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I glanced at the screen.
I was shocked to see several messages from the detective.
What time is it? How long did I sleep?
7:55 a.m.-We’ve got it. Call me.
8:07 a.m.-Seriously, Paul, we need to make a plan!
8:11 a.m.-Aspen says she’s going to wake you up. C’mon, let’s do this.
Knock, knock, knock.
Even though I knew it was way too late for Sarah to still be in bed, and that she’d most likely been awake for more than an hour that morning, I hopped from the bed and checked her bathroom before opening the door to let Aspen inside the room. When I did, I could see the sheer excitement in her normally serious eyes. Quickly, she closed the door behind her.
“I’m sorry,” I began, “I slept in. I didn’t mean to miss his messages.”
“It’s all right, but you should respond so that you two can get over there.”
“You’re not coming?”
She shook her head. “No, my place is here. I think it’s best if just you and Jonathan go, don’t you?”
“I suppose you’re right.” I was disappointed, wanting Aspen with me when we served Clarence with the warrant for his arrest.
Aspen clearly saw the saddened expression on my face. “This way the other wives won’t suspect anything. The last thing we need to do is upset Flora further.”
“I don’t care if she’s upset. She’s a conniving snake.”
Aspen took my hand. “I know, but still . . . it’s best if I lie low. Besides, Jeremiah wants to go to the park.”
“So, while we’re hauling Clarence into jail, you’ll be pushing our son on the swings?”
“Yes.” She nodded. “I’ll have my phone, of course. You must call me as soon as it’s over.”
“I will.” I stole a quick kiss before retrieving my phone from the nightstand.
“Good luck,” Aspen whispered before slipping out of the room.
-Sorry. Slept in, but I can be ready any time.
Only a few seconds passed before my phone buzzed once again.
-Meet me in 20 minutes?
-Where?
-About a block from his house. Red car, can’t miss it.
-All right, I’ll be there.
Anticipation stirred in my belly as I took the fastest shower of my life. When I was dressed and ready to walk out the door, I realized I was humming. I couldn’t remember the last time I hummed. Everything was about to change . . . for the better, for all of us.
Of course the people of our community would be shocked, appalled, and angry when they learned Clarence Black was in police custody. I anticipated many of them would threaten to leave, even after hearing of his crimes against their own children. Some of them would pack bags, refuse to come home, ignore the truth. Some of them would rather live in their own ignorance then move forward with the knowledge of the truth, of the man he really was. All that was unavoidable.
But just the same, I was prepared to call everyone to the temple, to keep them informed, to offer to lead them to a more honest future. I didn’t expect to be called a prophet, to be obeyed at every turn. I didn’t crave the control, the power that consumed my brother. I just wanted to support my people, to calm their fears and aid them in living healthy, spiritual lives.
I would start at home. I would inform my wives of what was in store, of what they could expect when I became the leader of the FLDS. I was confident we could come together as a family, as an example of kindness, love, and reverence to Heavenly Father.
We can do this. We can.
No one had to be corrupted; no one had to be worshipped. We just had to live together cooperatively. I could only hope the majority of our citizens would see the logic, would be relieved they were no longer under Clarence’s harsh thumb.
Without hesitation, I snuck out of the house without visiting the other wives at breakfast. I didn’t want to lie about where I was going. I wanted to see them for the first time with the biggest news of their lifetime. And so, I walked out of the house and shook my head when I saw the gate had, once again, been left open. Luckily, I heard Scout barking from the backyard and knew he was safely inside the confines of our property.
I hopped into my truck and drove across the compound to Clarence’s estate. When I saw the detective’s red car, I parked behind it and waited for him to exit his vehicle. I left my own and met him in the middle of the road.
“You ready for this?” he asked, removing his sunglasses.
“Like you wouldn’t believe.”
“As soon as backup arrives, we’ll go to the door.”
“We need backup?”
“Just in case,” Jonathan said with a nod. “I know you all aren’t big on firearms, but we can never be too careful. People do all sorts of things to avoid being arrested.”
Three squad cars pulled onto the street and parked behind my truck. Six uniformed police officers in thick black SWAT garb exited the cars, shotguns in hand. I’d never seen so many policeman in one place. It was intimidating yet comforting. I knew if Clarence tried to run, they would track him down and place him in one of those cars, hands in
cuffs. But shotguns? A SWAT team? Was that really necessary?
“I know what you’re thinking,” the detective said. “Standard procedure for a crime of this magnitude. We have to assume the suspect is armed and dangerous.”
I put my arms up in surrender. “I didn’t say a word. Do what you have to do.”
The detective nodded, then faced the other officers. “Here’s how it’s gonna go down, fellas. Officers Lindon, Stone, and Thompson.”
“Sir,” three men said in unison.
“You’ll head to the back door and radio me when ready. It’s an enormous estate, so it may take you some time to find the right point of entry. We’ll wait for you before approaching the subject’s front door.”
“Yes, sir,” they said and proceeded to walk toward Clarence’s backyard.
“Everyone else, you’re behind me. This is the suspect’s brother, Paul Black. He’s going to hold back while we obtain the suspect.”
“Where should I be?” I asked, unaware I wasn’t allowed to accompany the detective during his confrontation with Clarence.
“Stay right here. If we need you, we’ll let you know.”
“Are you sure I can’t come with you?”
He shook his head. “Civilians can’t be a part of this process. Everything has to be on the up and up or it could screw up our case. None of us want that.”
I held up my arms again in compliance. “Agreed. I’ll stay right here.”
“You’ll be able to see and hear everything that’s happening, but you won’t be involved. That’s what we need.”
All of the officers’ radios buzzed and a voice said, “We’re at the back door, Detective. Proceed with caution.”
“All right,” Jonathan said. “The rest of you follow me. Let’s take this son of a bitch down.”
I watched as they walked several yards to Clarence’s front door. Jonathan knocked on the door. “Clarence Black, open up. This is the Colorado City Police Department. We have a warrant for your arrest.”
No one came to the door.
Jonathan banged on the door again, and the other officers raised their guns. “If you don’t open the door, we’ll be forced to break it down, Mr. Black.”
They waited again, but no one came.
“All right, go in, boys.” The four officers kicked the door down with a gigantic thud, and screams could be heard coming from the entrance of the house. I knew those voices, they were the innocent screams of my brother’s wives and children. They didn’t deserve this, but in time they’d know it was all for their own good.
“Go, go, go!” I heard Jonathan yell. And several of Clarence’s children came running from the front door.
“Uncle Paul! What’s happening?” Clarence’s daughter Jane yelled as she ran toward me. “What’s going on? Why do they have guns? Why are they yelling Papa’s name?”
A dozen or so children came pouring out of the house and followed Jane to my side. Panic filled my gut—I hadn’t thought about his children. I hadn’t thought about the panic this would induce.
“Just calm down, everyone. Keep sweet. Answers will come. But it’s not time.”
“They won’t find him,” one of his teenage sons said, squinting in the morning son. “He’s probably in New Mexico by now.”
My world stopped. New Mexico? They won’t find him?
“What did you say?”
He shrugged and looked away from me, but I got in his face, demanding to know more. “Hey, wait a minute. Tell me what you said.”
“Papa’s gone,” Jane said. “He left in the middle of the night.”
Without another word, I ran to the house, screaming out for Jonathan. “Detective Cooke! Detective Cooke!” But I was lost in a sea of wives and children as they scurried around the entrance of the house. It was pure mayhem.
“How dare you enter this house!” His first wife, Janine, met me with teeth bared. “This is all your fault!”
“What are you talking about?”
“You worked with the police? How could you?” she screamed.
“How do you know that?” My head was spinning. And then I saw Holly, the wife who Aspen said was conspiring to help us. Our supposed mole, our spy who was supposed to keep us informed. And once again, I saw red. With rage streaming from my body, I stormed toward her. “Did you say something? Did you tip him off?”
She recoiled with wide eyes. She shook her head. “What? No, of course not! I’ve been trying to reach Aspen all morning, but she’s not answering her phone. She’s gone!”
“Gone? What are you talking about?” I demanded, confused and overwhelmed as children continued to run throughout the house, screaming and shouting and taunting the police.
Jonathan’s booming voice interrupted my question. “Paul! Paul, where are you?”
“I’m here!” I yelled out, trying to figure out where he was calling from.
“Kitchen!” he yelled back, and I crossed the sitting room and met Jonathan in the massive room.
The look of defeat on his face told me all I needed to know, but I asked anyway. “Tell me it’s not true. Tell me the kids are wrong.”
“He’s gone,” Jonathan said. “We’ve searched the house three times. There’s no sign of him.” Someone must’ve tipped him off.
“You’ll never find him,” Janine said behind me, and I turned to face her. “Never.”
“Where is he? Where are you hiding him?” I demanded, storming toward her.
“The prophet doesn’t need to hide. He’s gone, never to return, and you have yourself to thank. You took our husband from us. You stole him from his children. How does that feel, Paul?”
“Bite your tongue,” I spat. “He did this. He’s pure evil, and so are you for covering his tracks.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms in front of her chest. A maniacal laugh left her lips, a laugh that made the hair on my neck stand at attention.
“Why are you laughing?”
She raised both eyebrows. “Just wait. You’ll find out soon enough.”
“Paul!” a voice cried from the front door.
Aspen.
“I tried to tell you,” Holly cried from the doorway. “I tried, I tried.”
“Aspen, what are you doing here?” I asked, running to her and grabbing her by the elbows. Her eyes were bloodshot. Her chest was heaving and her skin was ashen—like she’d just seen a ghost . . . or her worst nightmare. In her hand was a piece of paper.
“It’s Ruthie,” she wailed. “She’s gone.”
She thrust the paper into my chest before falling to her knees. I stared at the crumpled paper in disbelief. It was complete with childish handwriting and misspellings, but it became all too clear what had happened. We were too late. Clarence was gone and he’d taken our daughter. The very daughter we were trying to save from his clutches. Someone had warned him this was going to happen, and to punish us, he took her with him. He took our Ruthie. Our innocent daughter was at the mercy of a monster.
“We have to find her.” Aspen sat in a heap on the floor; Holly knelt down beside her. “We have to! My baby’s out there . . . with him. And I can’t protect her. I can’t . . . I can’t.”
I knelt down in front of my wife, taking her hands in mine. “If it’s the last thing I do, I will bring her home, Aspen. I promise I’ll bring her home.”
“No, you won’t,” Janine said with a snicker. Her eyes were dark, menacing, cold. A chill ran down my arms as I caught her icy stare. “No. You. Won’t.”
The story continues from Clarence Black’s point of view
in the conclusion to The Compound Series . . .
PROPHET TAKES ALL, The Compound Series, Book 4—coming fall 2016.
About the Author
Melissa Brown is a hopeless romantic living in the Chicago suburbs with her husband, Chris, and their two children. Aside from writing, she enjoys reading, baking and making candles. She enjoys writing romance, suspense and YA.
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melissabrownauthor.blogspot.com/
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Also by Melissa Brown
The Compound Series:
Wife Number Seven
His Only Wife
Mother Before Wife
Love of My Life Series:
Bouquet Toss
Champagne Toast
Picturing Perfect
Unwanted Stars
Sorority of Three: Freshman 101
Red Carpet Kiss
If You Can’t Take the Heat
Table of Contents
Part One
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part Two
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
About the Author
Also by Melissa Brown