Cindy couldn’t hold back her own tears. She knew what it was like to have sudden death rip away childhood innocence. They sat back down on the couch and cried together. Cindy quietly, tears streaming down her face, Brenda sobbing with wild abandon, the cries of a breaking heart.
Dave just hovered over them, distress on his face.
After several minutes the sobs started to let up and finally Cindy heard Brenda say a single word.
“Why?”
She looked up at Dave, at a loss as to what to say. He crouched down next to them and put a hand on Brenda’s shoulder.
“Evil exists in this world, Brenda. It’s a terrible thing, and things happen that make no sense to us. Sometimes we get answers, but other times we have to live with the uncertainty. God knows what happened to Cheyenne, and He knows why. All I can say is that if it’s important for you to know why it happened, why her, then He will let you know. And if it’s not important for you to know the answer, then you need to trust that He has a reason for not telling you.”
Cindy wasn’t sure that was what she would have gone with, but then again, she had struggled with that same question over her sister’s death for years. Maybe if someone had been able to say to her what Dave had just said to Brenda it would have helped. She didn’t know.
“I know it feels like the world is ending right now,” she said softly. “But it’s not. You’ve had someone taken from you, and I’m so sorry you had to experience that, but for every great loss in our life there is healing, for everyone that leaves us, no matter why or how, someone new comes into our lives.”
Sometimes that process could take years. It had with her, but if Brenda was open to the possibility maybe she wouldn’t close herself off from people for years like Cindy had and her healing could happen faster.
Dave nodded to her. He thought she had said something right which was a bit of a relief.
Brenda sat up slowly, drying her eyes. “I got your shirt all wet,” she said dully.
“It’s no big deal,” Cindy said.
“Did Cheyenne go to your school?” Dave asked, pulling up his chair and sitting down.
“She used to, but her mom pulled her out to start homeschooling her at the end of last year. She was upset about it, too. She was looking forward to some of the senior activities. Not that her mom would have let her do any of them. She was always real strict. I was Cheyenne’s only friend. We still managed to hang out sometimes the last few months, but it was hard.”
Cindy knew from talking with Mark that Cheyenne’s parents hadn’t been able to shed any light on her death. She realized, though, that she might have an opportunity to find out more than he had, but she didn’t want to hurt Brenda more in the process. She said a quick prayer for guidance and the right words.
“Brenda, I know the police are trying to find out what happened to her, but they’re having a bit of a hard time finding out anything about her from her parents.”
“Of course they are. Her dad’s never around and her mom refused to see anything but a little clone of herself. Sometimes I think that’s why she was so hard on Cheyenne. That, and she was afraid Cheyenne would end up like her sister.”
Cindy blinked, latching on to that little bit of information. She schooled herself to be calm, gentle, and not push too hard. “She had an older sister?”
“Yeah, Lacey. She’s in college. She’s a psycho, a total mess.”
“How so?”
“When we were Freshmen and Lacey was a Senior she was always getting into trouble, dating guys who were just scary, you know. She smoked and drank at school even. She always talked about how much she hated her family, hated Pine Springs and one day she was going to be a big shot and have everything she ever wanted. Because of her teachers were always hard on Cheyenne at first until they realized that she was nothing like her sister.”
“Did they get along?”
Brenda shook her head. “Lacey hated Cheyenne because she thought their parents loved her more and she was always picking on her, doing things to hurt her that Cheyenne could never prove, or was too afraid to talk about. She was so glad when Lacey moved into the dorms. Even though she was only twenty minutes away she never came back home, not even for Christmas I don’t think. She didn’t get that their parents were so hard on Cheyenne, so strict and mean because they didn’t want her to be like Lacey. I always thought they loved Lacey best because they always gave her a pass. Instead of punishing her, they’d just get stricter with Cheyenne. It was unfair, you know?”
Brenda dashed away fresh tears that had started to flow.
Cindy’s brain was working overtime. she had one more question she wanted to ask, but she had to be delicate about it. “You said that Lacey would do things to Cheyenne. You don’t think she’d ever really hurt her, do you?”
Brenda looked up and there was anger blazing in her eyes. “Cheyenne had two broken fingers the last quarter of our Freshman year. She told everyone that she’d tripped off a curb, but I knew the truth. Lacey broke them because she was mad at her. She just grabbed them and snapped them like she was snapping twigs, and she didn’t even care. And she told Cheyenne that if she told the truth she’d break the rest of her fingers. Cheyenne believed her. Lacey wouldn’t hesitate to hurt her. I wouldn’t even be surprised to find out Lacey killed her.”
12
“Think what you’re saying,” Dave urged Brenda after he and Cindy exchanged a look.
“I don’t have to think about it. Lacey was mean and scary and she hurt Cheyenne a lot. No one will tell me how she died, just that she was murdered. And when I heard that, the first thing I thought was that it had to be Lacey. Cheyenne was so quiet and timid, no one else would ever want to hurt her for any reason.”
Brenda began crying again and Cindy put her arms around her. “Thank you for telling us,” Cindy said softly.
“If I can help in any way I will,” Brenda said, her words muffled.
“You’ve already helped quite a bit,” Cindy reassured her.
It took another hour before Brenda was ready to go home. Dave offered to drive her so she wouldn’t have to take the bus back, but she insisted on taking the bus. “My family doesn’t really understand why I come to church,” she said sheepishly.
“Well, we understand, and we’re glad that you do,” Cindy said, giving her a smile even though her heart was still breaking for her.
“Thank you. You’ve always been so nice,” Brenda said.
Cindy felt bad. Her interactions with the girl had been few and far between and Brenda clearly needed more love and attention in her life. Dave did his best, but he was only one man with a hundred kids to look out for. She vowed that she’d start paying more attention, particularly to the ones that God brought across her path.
“I’ll walk you to the bus stop,” Cindy said.
“Thank you.”
It was just up the street a block, but Cindy was happy to go with her. They walked in silence and then Cindy stayed while she waited for the bus. When she saw it coming up the street she turned and looked at Brenda. “Would you like to go out to lunch Sunday after church?”
Brenda hesitated and Cindy thought for a moment that she had overstepped. “That sounds really nice, but I promised I’d help put together the haunted house.”
Cindy blinked in surprise. She couldn’t believe that given what she was going through that would even be on Brenda’s mind at the moment. If she’d been in her shoes the last thing she’d want to do was be reminded of horror and death. She took a deep breath, reminding herself that Brenda was much older than she had been when her sister died. Of course she would view things differently.
The bus pulled up and Brenda got on. When she reached the top step she turned around. “I’d be free for lunch the week after,” she said, her voice hopeful.
“You’re on,” Cindy assured her.
Brenda nodded and disappeared into the back of the bus.
By the time Mark made it into the office there was a
message for him from the coroner. He called the man back, eager to get some news.
“Hey, it’s Mark. What did you find?” he asked when the man picked up.
“You’re not going to like it.”
Mark winced. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Cause of death on both girls is a little iffy, but I’m having to go with heart attacks.”
“What? In girls that young that makes no sense.”
“I know, and I did tox screens to see if they could have been administered drugs that would have caused the heart attacks, but they came back clean. I honestly believe that both these girls died of fright.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“Wish I was. I’m not.”
“They were scared to death?”
“It can happen and here it appears that it did.”
“What am I supposed to do with that?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know. I didn’t find anything else really of interest, no trace chemicals, soil samples that would be from someplace other than where they died. Only thing I found was some cat hair near the first body in the basement, but you already knew that.”
“What type of cat hair was it again?”
“Medium length. Black.”
Mark sat up straight. “Did you find any cat hair around the second body?”
“No, but she was staked out in a grassy field in the open. If it was there at one point it could have been blown away by a breeze. It could have even been there and just not noticeable in the grass.”
“Was there cat hair on either of the bodies?”
“Nope. No human hair either other than their own. I’m telling you, these are two of the cleanest corpses I’ve ever seen. I don’t know what to tell you beyond what I already have.”
“Okay, thanks, keep me updated,” Mark said before hanging up. This case was getting creepier and creepier. If the coroner was going to put scared to death on his official reports, though, there was nothing for Mark to do but run with that theory. The question then became who or what could have possibly frightened both girls badly enough to have killed them?
Jeremiah was sitting in his office half-staring into space. The early morning prayer vigil had been difficult to get through. There had been so many worried, anxious people there and he’d led them in prayers for two hours longer than he had intended. It was disheartening that the police still hadn’t found Meghan and he was beginning to worry that she might already be out of the city and on her way to becoming one of the nameless, lost children that populated the streets of Los Angeles.
There wasn’t anything more he could do about it, though. He had put it in G-d’s hands and he had to trust that everything would come out right and the prodigal would return home. His office phone rang, startling him out of his thoughts.
Jeremiah picked it up. “Hello?”
“Rabbi! Dave Wyman.”
“What can I do for you Wildman?”
“Well, the list is long, but actually I’m calling because a bunch of the kids are meeting at the church tonight and I thought it might be a good time for you to come out and start teaching them how to scare the pants off people. Metaphorically speaking.”
Jeremiah rubbed his eyes. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he really did need to get it over with so that the youth pastor could let it alone.
“What time?”
“Six.”
“I’ll be there,” he promised.
“You’re the best!”
As Jeremiah hung up the phone he couldn’t help but wonder how he got himself into these situations.
His cell went off, and he pulled it out of his pocket in disgust. He just wanted a few minutes of peace to himself, but apparently that was too much to ask for. It turned out that Mark was calling.
“Did you have a chance to look up those symbols that were marked on the bodies?” he asked without preamble.
“No. I’ll do that tonight supposing I survive my teaching course over at the church.”
“What teaching course?”
“I get to teach a bunch of teenagers how to run a scary haunted house.”
He could swear he heard Mark laughing, but it was muffled. After a moment the detective said, “I’d pay to see that.”
“You might, but you won’t. No grownups allowed, except me.”
“Too bad.”
Jeremiah sighed. “I can tell you right now what the Hebrew words meant.”
“What?”
“There was a hodgepodge of them. They were isolated from each other so there was no way to tell if there was supposed to be an order or a rational connection between them.”
“That’s fine, I’m ready, lay them on me.”
“Death. Darkness. Power. Initiate. Resurrection. Life Eternal. Sacrifice. Offering. Cost.”
“Great. Half of those sound like they go really well with the meaning of acacia that Cindy discovered last night.”
“If they really were burning acacia in that basement that would make sense.”
Mark was quiet for a moment. “I need to go back down there.”
Jeremiah could hear the fear in the other man’s voice.
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Neither am I, but do you have a better one?”
“Not yet, give me a moment.”
“I’ll give you all day if it would help. Trust me, going back there is the last thing I want to do, but I have a feeling we missed something.”
“You’re not alone in that feeling.”
“I promised Traci I wouldn’t go back in that house. She got really freaked out when I told her about it that first night. It was like she was scared that something was going to happen to me in that house.”
“Maybe something is going to happen to you in that house,” Jeremiah said quietly.
Mark swore. “You really know just what to say to make a guy feel better.”
“I’m not going to discount what Traci felt. I’ve seen women’s intuition work before.”
“So have I which just puts me that much more on edge,” Mark admitted. “I hate this whole bloody case.”
“At least the press haven’t gotten hold of it yet.”
“That in and of itself is a miracle and I’m not questioning it, I’m just giving thanks for it.”
“Sound plan.”
“Tell you what, you want to go into that house for me and poke around?”
Jeremiah paused for a moment. “Do you want to teach a bunch of high-schoolers the best way to scare their friends and families?”
“No, but I’d still pay money to watch you do it.”
“I bet.”
“Okay, so no job switching for us. Probably just as well. Nerves like yours you’d probably go all to pieces in that house.”
The Detective was trying to make a joke but his own anxiety caused it to come out flat. “Be careful, Mark,” Jeremiah told him.
“You, too, man. Let me know if there’s anything I need to know.”
“Same with you.”
Jeremiah hung up the phone and he wrestled for a moment with feelings of guilt. There was no way he wanted to go back into that house again. If Traci had really had that strong a reaction, though, as a friend he shouldn’t let Mark go in alone.
He glanced at the clock. He had almost five hours before he had to go teach that class and there was no way he was going to be able to focus on work. With a sigh he got up and left his office, locking the door behind him.
Marie glanced up, brow furrowing.
“I’m going to be out the rest of the afternoon,” he told her.
She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t say anything which was just as well. If she’d accused him of sneaking off to spend time with Cindy, or whatever colorful new and inappropriate nickname she came up with for her this time then he couldn’t be held responsible for what he would say in return.
As soon as he hit the parking lot he pulled his cell back out. The Detective picked up ri
ght away.
“Mark, hold up. I’m coming with you.”
“I knew you were a crazy son-of-a-gun.”
“What is it you say? Takes one to know one?”
“That’s about right.”
After a brief discussion they opted to meet at the house itself.
When Jeremiah arrived he was surprised to see a woman in a dark suit standing next to Mark’s car. Jeremiah gave him a questioning look as he walked over to them.
“I decided to bring back up. Trina works for the F.B.I. and investigates all this cult crap. She hasn’t had the privilege yet of going into the house.”
“I guess it’s your lucky day,” Jeremiah said, keeping his voice neutral.
“Jeremiah, right?” she asked, extending her hand.
He shook it. “Nice to meet you. Now let’s get this over with.”
Truth was, knowing there was an agent there with Mark, Jeremiah had to fight down the urge to get in his car and drive straight back to the synagogue. He thought of Traci, though, and knew that he owed it to her to try and make sure her husband stayed alive and in one piece.
“Ugly building, isn’t it?” Trina asked.
“You don’t know the half of it,” Mark muttered.
They went up the steps to the porch one at a time, cautious so as not to fall through the rotting wood.
As Mark opened the door every instinct Jeremiah had screamed at him to not go inside. Mark began to step forward, but Trina stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
“Do you mind if I go first?”
“I’d be happy to let you go first, middle, and last,” Mark said.
Jeremiah noticed that the Detective had already begun to sweat like he had been in the house the other day. His own stomach was clenching making it feel like his intestines were tying themselves up in knots.
I Will Fear No Evil Page 11