The Long Paw of the Law

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The Long Paw of the Law Page 10

by Diane Kelly


  As we neared the small rise above the compound, I slowed down to give myself more time to scope things out. The cruiser peaked the hill and my eyes spotted something new down below. An elevated deer blind had been erected just inside the wall by the gates, where someone inside could keep an eye on things outside the gate. Three others had been erected, too, one in each of the other corners of the property. Hmm …

  The improvised lookout towers told me that despite his tranquil countenance yesterday, Father Emmanuel had not been happy about me and Detective Jackson showing up at the place without advance notice. But did the precaution mean he knew we’d actually come about the baby, not the alleged missing teen? Did the watchtower mean he was trying to hide something? Or was it simply a tactic to prevent another intrusion on his people? Was he a sinner or a saint?

  We rolled down the hill and past the secluded grounds. In my peripheral vision, I spotted movement in the tower, someone keeping watch, possibly reporting to Emmanuel that a police cruiser had just gone by.

  My partner and I continued on down the road and drove into the lakeside park. Here, we were well out of sight of anyone in the deer stands. I pulled the cruiser into a spot in the small lot closest to the People of Peace spread and opened Brigit’s enclosure. “C’mon, girl. Let’s go for a hike.”

  My partner might not understand exactly what a hike was, but she could tell by the tone of my voice that she was in for some fun. She turned to grab her pig, but I was quicker than her. I snatched it up and held it over my head. “Porky stays in the car.”

  She gave me a dirty look, but hopped down to the pavement. I tossed the pig back into her cage and closed the door. After consulting the trail map posted at the kiosk at the edge of the lot, I found the trailhead for a path that ran reasonably close to the western wall of the property. Brigit and I took off down the dirt path. While I strode straight ahead, Brigit took the opportunity to stop and sniff the various scents other animals had left behind, sometimes lagging behind me, sometimes bolting ahead, but always staying within view.

  My eyes caught an occasional glimpse of the stone wall through the scrubby foliage to my left. The People of Peace made it clear that the property, though adjacent to the public park, was off limits. Every twenty feet or so, the words PRIVATE PROPERTY were painted in bright orange lettering that stood out in stark contrast to the wall.

  When we were about halfway down the trail, Brigit stopped on the trail ahead of me and pricked her ears. I came up beside her and listened. Nothing. I wouldn’t want to give up my opposable thumbs and ability to walk upright in order to become a dog, but having a canine’s superior auditory capabilities sure would come in handy. We proceeded on and twenty seconds later, I could finally detect what Brigit had heard.

  Cluck-cluck. Cluck. Cluck-cluck-cluck.

  Chickens. We must be near the chicken coop I’d spotted from the hill the day before.

  The trail veered away from the church’s acreage and headed back toward the shoreline, circling to the parking lot where it had begun. As I loaded Brigit back into her enclosure, my ears picked up another faint sound that seemed to be coming from the compound. Ding-dong, ding-dong, ding-dong. The church bells were ringing.

  I climbed into the cruiser and drove back up the hill, pulling to the side to take a final look down into the property below. The two hundred or so residents of the property were gathered in a circle in front of the church, their hands linked, like Dr. Seuss’s Whos in Whoville when they sang their Christmas song. Must be morning prayers.

  We drove back to our usual beat and spent the morning patrolling. I was waiting at a red light on a cross street at University Drive when I spotted Derek Mackey in his cruiser directly across the street. After he’d lost some evidence in a drug case, Captain Leone hadn’t let him patrol alone for a few weeks, assigning him another officer to serve as his babysitter and make sure he didn’t screw up again. Derek had managed to keep his nose clean and the captain had eventually let him go solo again.

  As the two of us ignored each other and waited for our respective lights to turn green, a kid in a Corvette came up University on my side of the street. He was doing ninety-to-nothing, weaving in and out of traffic as if trying to win a race at Texas Motor Speedway. He nearly rear-ended a Hyundai Accent—screech!—before swerving around it and punching the gas, his tires squealing as he accelerated.

  What a dumb butt. Didn’t he see the two squad cars on either side of the road? Maybe he’d been going too fast to see us. That or by the time he’d spotted us it was too late. Either way, it was time to put a stop to his reckless driving.

  “Hang on, girl!” I called back to Brigit as I switched on my lights and siren. As soon as the cross traffic stopped to let me out, I turned out onto the street after the guy. Derek, likewise, turned onto the street, siren wailing and lights blazing. Woo-woo-woo! The Big Dick pulled up next to me and cut me a glare.

  Glaring back at him, I grabbed the mic for my radio. “He’s mine, Derek. Back off.” After all, the kid had been speeding down the side of the road closer to me. Proximity should count for something.

  “Aren’t you too good to patrol?” Derek shot back, taking a quick look at the road ahead of him before cutting his eyes back to me. “I thought you were a junior detective now.”

  The guy couldn’t stand that my hard work and dedication had gained me favor with the detectives. Ironic, given that he was buddy-buddy with the chief of police.

  Rather than argue the point, or unnecessarily endanger civilians and my partner, I slowed down. “He’s all yours.”

  “Damn right he is!” Derek snapped, muttering “ass-kisser” before hanging up his mic.

  When I slowed down, Brigit flopped back down on her cushion and issued a sigh. She knew high speeds meant she might get to chase someone, and she was disappointed this pursuit hadn’t ended in a takedown. “Sorry, girl.” Though she hadn’t actually earned a liver treat, I finagled one out of my pocket and gave it to her anyway, dropping it over the top bar of her enclosure. Yep, spoiled rotten and all my fault.

  EIGHTEEN

  THIS LITTLE SWINE OF MINE

  Brigit

  She wolfed down the liver treat and set back to work on the pig, squeezing the little pink porker with her teeth. Oink-oink. Oink-oink. Playing with the rubber prey appealed to Brigit’s inner wolf, and she was having a heck of a time. Must kill pig! She picked the little pig up in her mouth and shook him back and forth. Oink-oink! Oink-oink! Oink-oink!

  So fun! Die, piggie, die!

  Oi— The pig went silent as one of Brigit’s fangs broke through the rubber. She shook him again, but nothing happened. Looked liked she’d succeeded. Darn. She hadn’t really wanted to kill the thing. She’d only been playing.

  She dropped the pig to the platform of her enclosure and put her head down on her paws. Stupid cheap toy.

  NINETEEN

  BABY FROM BABYLON

  The Father

  “Please!” she begged, on her knees with her hands clasped in front of her as if in prayer. “Please let me out of here! I promise I’ll obey from now on.”

  The Father felt a smug satisfaction slither inside him. “Why should I believe you, you Whore of Babylon? You vowed to remained chaste until marriage. You made a promise to God. You didn’t keep that promise, did you?”

  Maybe he was being overly harsh, but he wasn’t in a good mood and it was likely her fault. Police officers had come to the property yesterday, and he couldn’t be sure whether the story they’d given him was true. A lookout in the new tower he’d had erected had radioed earlier to tell him a cruiser had gone by. It wasn’t necessarily unusual for the police to patrol out here given that people sometimes got a little rowdy when camping or fishing in the adjacent park. Still, it made him edgy to have law enforcement about.

  “No.” She gulped as tears poured down her cheeks. “I didn’t keep my promise to God to remain chaste. But I’m sorry! I’ve repented! God has already punished me by taking my baby
from me. Why must you do more?”

  She was wearing down, but the fact that she’d dared to question him said she wasn’t completely broken yet. She wasn’t as stupid as the rest of his flock, as willing to swallow whatever warped, self-serving logic he decided to feed them. When her parents had joined the People of Peace years ago, she’d been a mere ten years old. But even then she’d looked at him not with adoration and awe, but with skepticism and distrust.

  He should have banished Juliette and Luke from the compound the moment he’d caught the two in the chicken coop seven months ago. Eggs weren’t the only thing getting laid in the structure that night. He’d already refused them permission to marry, told them he would reconsider if and when he sensed they’d grown enough spiritually. Yet they’d blatantly defied him, gone behind his back and snuck around to be together in the most biblical of ways. He’d never felt such fury! If the other members of the People of Peace found out he’d allowed Juliette and Luke to disobey him, to sin right there within the sacred walls of the compound, his hold on the others could begin to loosen.

  “Out, you sinners!” he’d hissed like a serpent when he’d found them, inadvertently scaring the hens, who’d clucked and fluttered their wings where they sat on their nests. As Juliette yanked the hem of her dress down and Luke pulled up his pants, Father Emmanuel pointed across the wide compound in the direction of the gate. “You two are banished! You don’t deserve to remain inside these walls!”

  Juliette had burst into tears. “May I speak with my parents before I go? Tell them good-bye?”

  He’d taken a deep breath to regain his composure. “No. I will talk to your parents and Luke’s mother in the morning and tell them what you’ve done. They will understand why you could not be allowed to remain.”

  It gave Father Emmanuel no small sense of pleasure to see the look of helplessness on Luke’s face. The young man might be strong and smart and handsome, but he was powerless to help the woman he loved.

  Luke had fallen to his knees in front of Father Emmanuel, his hands clasped in desperation. “Please don’t do this! We don’t want to lose our families!”

  Juliette fell to her knees, too. “Please, Father! We’re sorry! Please allow us to redeem ourselves! We’ll serve any penance!”

  He’d mulled things over. Though he’d banished the occasional member from the compound as a reminder to the others that they lived there at his pleasure, he always chose members whose absence would not be deeply felt. But if he banished Juliette and Luke, he ran the risk that Juliette’s parents and Luke’s mother would want to leave as well. Though he’d found their parents quite easy to convince and control in many aspects, despite his best efforts he hadn’t been able to successfully sever the strong family bonds they’d arrived with. If the three of them left in search of their banished children, if they rejected the earthly paradise he had provided them, Emmanuel would appear weak and not in control of his flock. Moreover, Juliette and Luke were well liked by the other members of the church, and had many friends within these walls. Their banishment would cut deep across the compound, raise questions and, quite possibly, resentments. The life Father Emmanuel built here could begin to erode, disintegrate.

  “I’ll let you stay on one condition,” he’d told Juliette and Luke.

  “Anything, Father!” Luke had cried.

  Tears wetting her cheeks, Juliette had nodded her head frantically. “Yes, anything!”

  He looked from one of them to the other. “You two must stay away from each other. No sitting together in the manna hall or at services. No joining hands in the prayer circle. And certainly no lying with each other!” Of course he knew that he also had to dangle a carrot in front of them to encourage them to keep their mouths shut. “You have soiled yourselves for anyone but each other. If you obey me for a year, stay clear of each other for four seasons, I will reconsider your request to marry. But you must not tell anyone of this bargain I have made with you. If you tell a soul, I will put you outside the walls in an instant.”

  “Thank you, Father Emmanuel!” Luke cried up at him. “Thank you for showing us God’s mercy!”

  Juliette had bowed her head. Father Emmanuel had thought it a sign of submission at first, but when she upchucked the vegetable stew they’d had for dinner, he realized he might have another problem on his hands. A little problem with hands of its own.

  “Juliette,” he’d asked, “are you with child?”

  She’d pulled a lace-edged handkerchief from her pocket to wipe her mouth and nodded, a fresh round of tears welling up in her eyes. “I believe I am, Father.”

  It took all his strength to fight the urge to slap the disobedient little slut across the face.

  That Jezebel could ruin everything!

  “You must go, after all, then,” he’d told them. “A child will be proof that you two have sinned here, that you have willingly defied the word of God.” Worse yet, they’d defied Father Emmanuel, which chapped his ass far worse than any biblical breach. “Were it a small transgression, it could be forgiven. But lust is one of the seven deadly sins. I would be no man of God were I to allow you to disrespect the Lord here on His hallowed ground.”

  “Please, no!” Still on her knees, Juliette looked up at him. “Please!”

  “I see no other solution,” he said, though he was racking his mind for one. Sending the two of them away could lead to a dangerous domino effect. An idea crept into his mind then, and he worked through it, thinking out loud, making them believe the idea was theirs. “Of course, you could tell the others that you made a mistake, Juliette. You could say that you met a boy somewhere…” He trailed off, leaving her to fill in the blanks.

  She promptly did. No one could ever accuse Juliette of being stupid. “I could say I met a young man when I was selling eggs at the farmer’s market.”

  Given that the only time she left the compound was to sell the eggs, it was the only place she could have met someone who wasn’t a member of the People of Peace.

  She continued. “I’ll say that the devil got into me and I sinned with the man.”

  Luke looked pained at the mere thought of the woman he loved being with another man, but he didn’t stop her.

  Though it might be bearing false witness against the fictitious father of the child, it wasn’t an unfathomable story. Father Emmanuel had attended the farmer’s market on various occasions. He knew that a young man who sold honey in the adjacent booth often traded a jar of his sweet honey for a dozen of Juliette’s farm-fresh eggs. She’d brought the honey back to the compound and shared it with the others, even mentioned the yellow-and-black-striped shirts and funny, fuzzy antennae the boy wore to get the attention of potential customers.

  Juliette reached up and grabbed Father Emmanuel’s hands, holding them in tight desperation. “I will let the others know that I begged you for forgiveness and permission to raise my child among the People of Peace. That you, in your mercy, allowed me and my child to stay.”

  It was less than an ideal solution, but there was no ideal solution to be had. Either he banished the young couple and risked their parents’ departure, allowed them to remain while openly acknowledging their mutual sin committed within the compound walls and in direct defiance of his leadership, or he used Juliette as a precautionary tale for others about the risks and dangers of the sinful and scary outside world. He’d decided to go with the latter.

  In retrospect, maybe he should have banished Juliette and Luke, after all, allowed their parents to leave as well. Juliette posed a challenge, that was for sure. Regardless, he’d break her … even if it was the last thing he did.

  TWENTY

  WHAT’S IN STORE

  Megan

  When it neared noon, I turned my cruiser to the southwest once again. I’d packed a sandwich and planned to eat my lunch on the road, put in some unofficial overtime to spy on the People of Peace.

  When we ascended the hilltop this time, my eyes spotted people from all over the compound heading towar
d the dining hall, including the children from the school, some of whom ran ahead of their friends. I passed the compound, circled through the park, and drove back up the road. Unfortunately, the visit had told me nothing new. My bladder, however, told me I better find a ladies’ room.

  I pulled over and consulted my maps app. The image showed a place called Benbrook Burgers, Beer, and Bait a half mile down another road, and I headed back out. Shortly thereafter, we pulled into the lot. The place, which looked like a rustic log cabin, turned out to be a combination gas station, convenience store, bait and tackle shop, diner, and gift boutique. The building was decked out for Halloween, with colorful pumpkins and gourds piled near the doors and a skeleton and witch seated in a pair of rustic outdoor rocking chairs as if engaged in conversation.

  I retrieved my partner from the back, clipped her lead onto her collar, and brought her inside with me. After using the facilities, I decided to take a look in the gift shop. After all, I was still officially on my lunch hour and sometimes these out-of-the-way places offered unusual and interesting items.

  We wandered through the doorway that separated the convenience store from the gift shop and meandered past a wooden barrel filled with clear bags of candied pecans, their label pronouncing them Proudly Made in Pecan Crossing, Texas, Just for You! An adjacent bin offered classic wooden children’s toys, handcrafted locally according to the sign. A yo-yo. A truck. A boat. A pop gun. Carving in each of the toys noted the name of the toymaker—Craig’s Classic Toys. Several beautiful pottery pieces were displayed on a shelf nearby. A placard identified the potter as someone doing business as Kiln Me Now.

  The scent of seasonal pumpkin spice led me to a shelf along the back wall. There I found an assortment of taper candles. The slight imperfections told me they’d been dipped by hand. On the shelf below were metal candleholders that looked like they’d also been forged by hand. Next to them was a unique set of rustic silverware in a sun motif with matching napkin rings. Unlike the other items, the candles and metal pieces had no sign identifying the person who’d crafted them.

 

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