I put my hands together and swung a two-fisted backhand into his ribs. He doubled over and the gun flew. It hit the sidewalk and went off. I was already in a sprint. I got in my truck and was out of there.
I didn’t have time to grab the architect’s plans.
14
The Rangers wouldn’t know where Rona Leigh was for as long as it would take them to find the architect. Hopefully, he was off designing a mosque in Khartoum. Of course, they could get lucky just canvassing. Then it would only take until some local historian said, “Hey, I know that place. It’s the temple some cult dug out of a lake.” Perhaps they wouldn’t take such a person too seriously and give me more time.
I drove to San Yglesia. I wasn’t stopped, and the town was as drowsy as ever.
I said hello to the hotel clerk, went up to my room, and left everything there. I took my bag out to the car with nothing in it but my new jumpsuit. If I needed a change, I wasn’t going to wear a Shaker dress and bonnet. I came back down and told the clerk I was going to the mission and paid for an extra week’s stay.
I said to the clerk, “Wish me luck.”
She just shook her head.
I drove up Main Street to the gate in the wall, but I didn’t need to get out and knock. The big wood doors opened for me. Beyond was a scene about as dazzling as the one Dorothy encountered when she looked upon Oz. Behind me, brown dust and dilapidation. Inside the gate, everything was green and ordered, each section of garden cordoned off by rows of flowers. The barns and the outbuildings were whitewashed. It looked like half the New Believers were working outside.
The guard Shaker came up to me. I said to him, “I’d like to see Elder Tiner.”
He said, “I’m sorry, Sister. If you’re interested in joining us, I have to tell you that the Elder is not presently welcoming new converts.”
He seemed genuinely sad about that.
“I’d really only like to speak with him. I’d like to speak to Vernon Lacker too.”
He went from genuinely sad to genuinely appalled. Like a child staring at a ghost, he said, “Who are you?”
“I’m Agent Penelope Rice, FBI. Vernon knows me.”
He tried to keep control of himself. To the air, he said, “She’s alone.” To me, “Please drive through.” As soon as I did, he pressed a remote control and the gate closed behind me. I stopped and waited. Now when he approached the pickup he had a weapon pointed at me. Jesse the feed store man was wrong. The weapon wasn’t a hoe, it was a small handgun.
He said, “I would ask you to step out of your vehicle with your hands in the air.”
While I climbed out, he was still pressing his remote. Six men appeared from the mission, guns drawn, running toward us. From the look on the guard’s face they couldn’t run fast enough. This was something he didn’t do very often.
One of the men said, “Give me your weapon.”
I did.
Then they took me inside, where my eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was ten degrees cooler. The hall of worship was empty, and even though the design was classic Catholic church there were no Catholic accoutrements. Only whitewash.
We went up to the second floor. They had me sit down in a small reception room furnished with the famous chairs, a no-nonsense table, and one row of pegs across a wall. I didn’t have a coat to hang. The men sat too, each one pointing his gun at me.
A man came through the door, dressed exactly like the others. There was no question, though, that he was the leader, the one in charge, their Elder. Raymond Tiner had terrific stage presence, an aura of authority. It was the way he seemed to float into the room. I stood up. The men rose, the guns rose. I put out my hand. I said, “I’m glad to meet you Elder Raymond. I’m Penelope Rice.”
He waved at the men and the guns went down. A second wave, and all but one of them left.
He said, “You are blessed in our eyes, Agent Rice. You did what you could to save the Daughter of God. We had hoped you would manage it, but we have never faulted you for what, in the end, you could not do. The task was left to us.”
“And how did you do it?”
He smiled. “You have discovered us. You have the instinct and ingenuity your profession requires. We are our Sister’s liberators. But the Daughter of God is alive today through the intercession of Jesus Christ. A miracle. He alone is responsible.”
“You managed it for him. How?”
“We facilitated His miracle. Jesus Christ revealed to us the means to saving Her life and then made clear to me that I must bring His Sister to my refuge once Her life was saved. Once the Lord raised His Daughter from the dead, we only followed his command.”
“What was his command?”
“He asked that five people be at the ready, two to drive the ambulance and three to drop blocks from the overpass. And then God wrought another miracle. None of the five were caught. A gift. We successfully carried out what had been prescribed in His Holy Name.”
“You know all of you here are in grave danger?”
“We had been in danger until this moment. We are now safe. The Daughter of God told us there would be a sign. A sign that would offer us relief from the threat of danger you speak of. You are the sign. The Child is safe so long as you are here, isn’t She? Your people will not sacrifice you. And you know that, or you wouldn’t be here. So let us talk. May I offer you some tea?”
Tea.
His body began to rock a little, up on the balls of his feet.
I told him how good a cup of tea sounded.
The two of us sat down and a female New Believer brought tea. She wore a bonnet. To me, the bonnet meant a human mind off-kilter. She left without looking anywhere but at the tea or the floor.
I said to Tiner, “Why is she wearing a bonnet? She’s not out in the sun.”
“A woman’s hair is the glory of God. It is also a temptation. The Bible says it must be hidden from men.”
“Jesus didn’t say that, though. It’s in the Old Testament.”
“That’s true.”
“Mary Magdalene dried Jesus’ feet with her hair.”
“Do you read the Bible?”
“No. I remember it from pictures in the Bible stories for children that my grandmother gave me.”
He chuckled. “There is something about tea that calms us and turns our talk inward. Are you enjoying it?”
It tasted like ragweed. “It’s very good.”
“My favorite. Chamomile, but without the element that makes you sleepy. What is it you have come to say, Agent Rice? As God has sent you, it is my duty to take your words with great seriousness.”
“I came to you to ask you to let me take Rona Leigh with me. Let me take her into custody, federal custody. She won’t go back to Gatesville. She will have a new trial. Despite her confession, despite her thinking otherwise, Rona Leigh might not have killed the people she was accused of killing.”
He sipped at his tea. He mused. Finally, he said, “Wrongly accused. That would make even more sense. I mean … as to why God chose these terrible circumstances for Her. She has suffered. If She was wrongly accused, She has suffered even more mightily than any of us could ever know.”
“Elder Raymond, if you allow me to take Rona Leigh, you can leave these premises first. With the tapes.”
He blinked. “But I have no tapes. As soon as we make a tape, we send it to the media. We don’t need to keep them. We have their Holy Source.”
“You would be paid handsomely for those tapes.”
“I imagine I would be. But there are none. We do not mean to profit from the second coming. When divine inspiration fills the Daughter of God, we film Her as She speaks His Words. None of us have any need here of personal fortune. We survive comfortably. Now that we have done the duty prescribed to us by the Holy Father, nothing could give us more joy and happiness. Certainly not money. We have been fulfilled.”
His face was completely serene, like a sleeping infant’s. I’d followed the money, and there was no money
. A first. Time to pay especially close attention.
“Agent Rice, I feel momentous gratitude for your goodwill toward the new Christ Child. Still, the Lord has deemed that I should be responsible for Her, not you. I know it is hard for you—for anyone—to believe all that has come to pass has been solely for the glory of God. But it has. My last task on earth is to protect the Sister of Jesus Christ for as long as I can. We are all prepared, as were His apostles, to accept the consequences of our actions. There is no Judas among us.”
I forced down a swallow of tea. “Then it makes sense that God sent me, doesn’t it? Rather than your task coming to an end, the task will next lie with me. Once it is beyond your means to protect Rona Leigh, I will. And then you will live to bear witness to her and to the miracles you have experienced.”
He started rocking again. “That is a possible interpretation as to why He sent you. But I am convinced He sent you to protect His Daughter here in this place just a bit longer than we’d hoped. I think I understand exactly why you are here. Why Jesus has led you to us. Because as long as you are here, there will be no Armageddon. With you among us we will be safe. The police, those who govern—no one will want to see anything happen to you. And as long as nothing happens to you, nothing will happen to the Daughter of God.”
“Reverend Tiner, once I am seen as secondary to their goal, we might all be killed.”
“If the Lord chooses Armageddon for us, so be it.”
“If you let me take Rona Leigh now, Armageddon will not take place.”
“I wish the Christ Child could be kept with us for a very long time. But no, the manifestation of Her second coming will occur. Many will be called, few will be chosen. What you ask me to do is not what I have heard from the Lord God. He says that we care for a great treasure, His Child, and that we should fear neither danger nor death. And since the Lord justly chastises us with His whips, we try, with His aid, to stand ready to receive the blow from that mighty hand. Having magnanimously granted us the present life, He retains the power to deprive us of it at any moment and in any manner.
“Sister, we are prepared.”
I sipped at my bitter tea. Rona Leigh had trusted these people to do God knows what to her in order to survive the infiltration of poisons into her blood. She was able to convince herself that this was her only chance to live. She took the chance. A matter of faith, as Vernon had described faith to me. But not faith in God. Faith in science. In people who are able to take the sleep-inducing elements out of chamomile tea. I knew damn well that Rona Leigh was not about to welcome Armageddon.
I said, “May I speak to Rona Leigh?”
He put his cup down. “But of course. She sees you as Her friend. And you remain Her ally, as anyone can see. God blesses you for that. I presume you intend to try to convince Her to go with you. If she chooses to do that, then everything changes. She is the Daughter of the Lord. She is the Second Coming. I recognize that Her desire is our command. But I must warn you, Agent Rice: To think you have such a power is inaccurate.” He looked at his watch. “She is receiving medical treatments for the next twelve hours. You won’t be able to speak to Her until tomorrow. For now, it’s best if someone familiarizes you with our home here. It will be your home until I decide that you are no longer safe.”
“You intend to keep me here against my will?”
He ignored the obvious. He stood. “I believe you will be more comfortable discussing the circumstances you have entered into with someone you have come to know.”
He blessed me before he left. His one henchman stayed. He had remained standing quietly in the corner with his weapon pointed at the floor, but now he raised it. He led me back out to the grounds in front of the mission where Vernon was waiting, a plastered-on smile contorting his face and dampness in his eyes.
Vernon shook my hand, blessed me in the name of the Lord, drew me a few steps away from our Shaker guard, and whispered, “You’ve got to help us.” Then, in a bright voice, “Let me show you the Temple of the Second Coming, Sister.”
We walked.
He lowered his voice again. “He wants to save the world. He can’t do it without the martyrdom of Rona Leigh. We’ll all be killed but him.”
“How will that save the world?”
“The people will rise up, and he will lead them.”
“How will he do that if he’s dead? If there’s a slaughter, he will not survive.”
“He will be sure to avoid death. Miz Rice, I have known this man for a long time. He is a gifted visionary. He has proven intellectual abilities. He is filled with genuine religious fervor and at the same time a practical wisdom. He has long been a recipient of revelations. Now he will survive to carry out his vision of a kingdom as emissary of the Lord.”
“You’re saying he intends to lead a religious revolution?”
“Yes. He believes people are willing to follow his providential guidance into the kingdom. And of course they will. He has been the instrumental factor in creating the path for the Second Coming of Christ, which is now upon us according to His teachings.”
“What did he base his plan on, the fall of the Shah? Does he think he’s another Ayatollah Khomeini?”
“Miz Rice, perhaps you are not far wrong. The Ayatollah overthrew who he saw as the devil. In the eyes of the people, both men saw to a miracle. Reverend Tiner’s miracle is continuing on millions of television screens. His followers will happily defend him and depend on his providential guidance. How could they not? He has seen to the rescue of the Daughter of God from the chains of bondage.”
I tried to keep my voice at a whisper. “He saw to some of it; you saw to the rest. Vernon, how had you planned to get your ambulance there? Before the governor did it for you?”
He stopped walking. He scuffed at the dirt with the toe of his shoe. “The nurse. I—” He started walking again.
“You awed the nurse.”
“We believed that if I’d called out for an ambulance, Harley and the nurse—hopefully others—would have backed me up.”
“Vernon, you don’t believe any of it, do you?”
“No. I am a selfish man.”
“You went along with everything to get Rona Leigh out.”
“Yes.” A tear trickled down his cheek. “Ma’am, I could see that, as he aged, Reverend Tiner was no longer keeping to a steady course. His rudder—his love of the Lord—deteriorated into something else. I have tried to tell him Rona Leigh does not want to go back to prison to die, but that she shouldn’t die here either. He just smiled when I said that, as though I were a young student again in need of his help. So I’ve prayed. And you are the answer. You and your hopes for a new trial for her. What can we do?”
“We can think. That’s about it. We have to think fast and come up with something before we hear the sound of the helicopter rotors. If I arrest her on a federal charge, she’ll be in our custody, not theirs. It’s the only hope she has.”
We walked along the paths of flowers, and the New Shakers just kept on hoeing as though we were invisible. Harley Shank hoed too. He did not look up at me. Then Vernon said, “Elder Raymond says you may talk to her in the morning. You have to convince her that what you say is her only hope. I will pray until then that we do not hear the sound of helicopter rotors.”
* * *
I became roommate to twenty other women. The sister who had served Tiner and me tea took me to the women’s sleeping quarters after my talk with Vernon. It looked like Bemelmans’s drawings of Madeline’s bedroom at the orphanage: two long lines of neat little cots. At the front of each cot, a trunk on the floor and, again in the Shaker tradition, pegs all around to hang their things. The tea sister told me it was an honor to have as a guest an apostle of the Lord’s Daughter. They were all happy I was going to speak with her. Among them, only Sister Emily was allowed that privilege.
I inquired as to who Sister Emily might be.
“Sister Emily is her nurse and stays with her all the time.” I would, in fact,
be using Sister Emily’s bed.
She put my bag in the trunk and said, “It’s dinnertime.”
I looked at my watch. Five o’clock. She asked if I would like to join them or if I’d prefer a tray brought up. I would join.
“Come, then.”
In the dining room, the men sat on one side of the room while the women sat on the other. Men served men and women served women.
Across the front of the room on a platform was the head table, where Elder Raymond sat with two of the men I’d first seen running at me with semiautomatic weapons. Vernon was there too, and there was a chair for me. The woman told me that, as a guest, I would be at the Elder’s table even though I wasn’t a man. Then she whispered, “When the Sister of Jesus is well enough, we will have the blessed privilege of sharing our meals with Her. How we look forward to that day!” Her cheeks were flushed with excitement.
Dinner began with grace, a sermon from Raymond Tiner that lasted an hour. Tiner’s theme was trust in the Lord, who will never fail to help and reward. He knew people were going to need to trust somebody when the helicopters began spinning overhead, creating their uniquely mind-shattering racket.
Huge platters and bowls were passed around, the food abundant and tasteless. Farm-fresh vegetables boiled into oblivion. No one’s appetite had been deterred by the goings-on, they ate till all the food was gone, heaping piles of it on their plates a second and third time, never speaking. Tiner spoke. To me. He told me that after dinner they would have their prayer service and then retire. I was welcome to join the service. I looked to Vernon. He told Tiner he chose to pray in private.
The Believers went downstairs in their two gendered lines. On the main floor of the mission I stood aside, watching them as they drifted into a kind of spiral, their leader at the center. Tiner’s chief guard stayed close by me. Once formed, the spiral began to move and a noise rose out of it. At first, I looked around to see if there was a CD playing. I didn’t know what the noise was. Didn’t imagine it could possibly be a human sound. It was an unearthly moaning and whining, a little chanting mixed in, a grating singing punctuated with discordant squeals.
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