“You’re wrong, Sierra. There are angels, not in the biblical sense, but we made a perfect one,” I whispered.
I sat beside Taylor, just looking at her; I knew every freckle. I remembered how she’d walked into the corner of the kitchen table and obtained that small scar just above her left eyebrow, and how both Sierra and I had gone into a blind panic and rushed her to the hospital. I wished that she would stay that age, that she’d never have to grow up in world filled with horror and pain, filled with Father Samuels. But that wasn’t possible. All I could vow was that I’d prepare my daughter for any eventuality. I chuckled as I stood; I was beginning to sound like some of the loony Doomsday Preppers.
I checked the windows before I left her, satisfied with the extra locks to keep her secure, then made my way downstairs.
“Been a rough day, huh?” Zachary said as I took a seat on the porch.
“Been a rough few months,” I replied.
“What can I do to help? I won’t offer to pray for you,” he said, adding a chuckle.
“Tell me what you know about this cult?”
“There are thousands of cults, all around the world, Gabe. The founder of this one was a priest, for sure. He was suspended as soon as his actions were brought to light. But we don’t know how far back his ‘activities’ go.”
“Suspension? Why not thrown out, or whatever you call it.”
“Laicization is the correct term, or defrocking, I think the press says. Think of the church as a business, we suspend, investigate, and then make a decision. If the priest had repented, then his suspension would have been lifted.”
“Can you repent and be forgiven for an act so disgusting?” My voice had risen to a challenge.
“All sinners can repent in the eyes of the Lord, Gabriel.”
“And that’s why I don’t do religion.”
“You don’t believe in second chances, do you?” he said.
“No, not for a crime so heinous as that. What is it your God teaches? All life should be treasured and children are a gift, but when that is abused, a simple sorry cures all?”
“It's not as simple as that. But I understand your anger, this is very personal for you and I want to help, Gabe, I really do.”
I shook a cigarette then offered him the pack. “Are you allowed to smoke? Isn’t it a sin or something?”
He chuckled as he lit his and reached down to pull a couple of beers from the magic refillable cooler.
“If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not within us.” He gave me a wink as he snapped off the caps and handed me a bottle.
“So, this convent. I thought that was a bunch of nuns. How did this priest ‘run’ it?”
“Technically you’re correct. The mother superior is in charge, but there are convents that are more of a community, shall we say. And it’s not uncommon for a priest to be involved. There were boys at that facility, a man amongst the ranks would have given some balance to their upbringing.”
“Is the mother superior involved?”
“I can’t answer that, Gabe. I can’t answer a lot because I either don’t know or I’m not allowed to.”
“Who says you’re not allowed to? Your FBI friends or the church?”
He didn’t answer me. Instead opting to take a sip from his bottle of beer and then a puff of his cigarette.
“Look, mistakes were made. Many mistakes. For sure, this whole thing was covered up; I’m not going to deny that. A lot of what went on was before my time, of course. I’m a bishop, Gabriel. The convent isn’t in my diocese. I was only called in to advise on the cult because I’ve had some dealings with it. Some years ago, I helped a family retrieve their child from them. A child that had been kidnapped and then so brainwashed to believe they were divine. The parents of that child wanted me to re-educate the child on what divinity was. The FBI has a deprogramming…program.” He shook his head at his choice of words.
“And you’re involved in that?”
“Only when required.”
“You said there was no record of Sierra at that convent, what if that wasn’t her real name?”
“I very much suspect that wasn’t her real name. It’s possible she changed it later in life, or they changed it.”
“Midley and Romney, have you worked with them before?” I asked.
“No, this is the first time. There’s a team at the FBI, from what I understand, a fairly large dedicated team, whose purpose is to deal with cults.”
For a moment I stared at my brother, the brother that I hadn’t really grown up with, the brother that I didn’t really know. Did he have the capability to deceive me? Was he one of the good or bad guys? It saddened me to realize I didn’t know him well enough to make that call.
“Are there secret organizations with the Catholic Church?” I asked.
“There are no secret organizations that the church officially recognizes.”
“That was a very diplomatic answer, you should run for president.”
“Have you any idea how vast the Catholic religion is? Millions and millions of people believe. There are hundreds of thousands of, let’s say, officials, who work in the religion. I’m not a stupid man, I’m sure there are sections I’m not privy to.”
“What about that, oh, what are they called? That guy wrote a book about them?”
He laughed. “Opus Dei?”
“That’s them.”
“Well, they are hardly a secret if someone wrote a book, and you know about them, are they?”
“Fair point.”
The sun had long set, but the glare from every light in the house switched on, illuminated the yard.
“It’s been a long day, I’m calling it a night,” I said.
I said goodnight to my parents and climbed the stairs. Mom had prepared a room for me but I opted to sleep near my daughter. I lay on the spare bed and dozed.
At some point during the night I remembered the message I’d sent to Thomas asking him to check out the loft. I quietly rose from the chair and deliberated. I had no idea if Dad was a light sleeper, if I left to check the loft, would he hear if someone came into the house?
I crossed the room and opened the door. The hallway light was on and the house quiet. A floorboard creaked as I made my way to the top of the stairs. I crept down and to the front door.
It was a hot night; the air was dry and dusty. I stood for a while on the porch deciding what to do. The prudent thing would have been to wait until the morning, but being prudent, or sensible, didn’t seem to work so well with me. I crossed the yard and slid the barn door open.
I heard horses shuffle around, and a snort of surprise when one had been woken from his doze. As I peered into the gloomy barn, a prickly nose gently brushed against my arm, startling me. One of the horses had decided to investigate.
I spun around at the sound of a scraping noise. “Shit, Dad, you nearly gave me a heart attack.”
“Good. You come out here, with all the shit going on, unarmed?”
He walked toward me and slapped a revolver against my chest. “Now, what are you doing?” he said.
“I just want to check the loft, something came to me earlier. I’d had a conversation with Lily about it being Sierra’s favorite place. I don’t know; I just wanted to check she wasn’t up there.”
“Well, she sure won’t be with you noisily creeping about.”
“Yeah, well, this is all new to me, Dad. I didn’t get army training, nor am I a CIA operative.”
He chuckled. “Thankfully, there’s no way out of that loft that doesn’t result in broken bones or coming down those stairs.”
“I shouldn’t have left Taylor,” I said.
“I put her in with your mom. That woman could scream loud enough for the town to hear. Now, are we going up or not?”
We climbed the stairs to the loft door. It was unlocked, as expected, and I pushed it open. Of course it was empty, and it surprised me to feel a little disappointed that Lily wasn’t si
tting on the bed.
“Someone’s been up here,” Dad said. He raised a cup that he’d found on the counter. “Still got a little coffee in it.”
“Ranch hand?”
“Doubt it. I’ll ask your mom when she cleaned it last, but I think it was after Lily left. Can’t imagine she’d have left a dirty cup on the counter.”
“If I could just find something, anything…” I stopped mid sentence. “Dad.”
I’d walked into the bathroom. Written in red, possibly lipstick, across the mirror were words.
It’s all lies, trust no one.
My eyes flicked between the words and my reflection. Sierra had said the same thing. I rested my hands on the sink and let my chin fall to my chest. I wanted to scream, to cry, I wanted to punch something to release the building frustration. If the intent was to fuck with my head, it was working.
“She’s here,” I said.
“Lily?” Dad said.
“Thomas checked, earlier, he would have seen this. I know one thing; I’m fucking tired of it all. All I wanted was the truth so I can put Sierra to rest, in here.” I tapped my chest as I spoke.
Dad placed his hand on my back, and that small gesture caused the tears that I was so desperately fighting to hold back spill down my cheeks.
“I can’t say I know how you’re feeling, because I don’t. I can see, in your face, how much you’re hurting and that pains me. What is the one thing that needs to be done to stop all this?”
I raised my head and looked at his reflection. There was knowing in his eyes.
“My daughter will only be safe when Father Samuel is dead,” I said.
His face didn’t display shock; it was something else. Resignation.
“I found a letter from Sierra, I didn’t tell you because, like that says, I can’t trust anyone, and I haven’t been able to talk to you alone. Father Samuel is Taylor’s grandfather, Sierra believes he’ll try and come for her.”
“Then we need to make sure that never happens,” he said quietly.
Without another word, we left the loft.
There seemed to be more people than usual around the ranch the following morning. Most I knew; some Dad introduced me to. All were big ranch hands or friends of my parents. Some had dogs. All had guns.
I was sitting on the porch when Thomas pulled up. “Fuck me, it looks like a scene out of Deliverance,” he said when he joined me.
“Just a little extra security. I thought of sending Mom and Taylor away, but I think they’re safer here,” Dad said as he left the house.
“I can’t let Taylor out of my sight, Dad, not yet, anyway.”
Taylor had been upset earlier that she couldn’t go riding, that she couldn’t walk over to the paddock on her own even. I wasn’t sure how long it was fair to keep her confined to the house. But the thought of her and Mom being so far away was just out of the question.
“Zachary around?” Thomas asked.
“No, a meeting or something, he left early,” I replied.
“Good. Okay, I have news. First, my man over at the state ran some checks; spoke to whomever. Midley and Romney, unless they are very secret, don’t show up as FBI agents. It’s a federal offence to masquerade as an FBI agent, but I call that in, we have a lot of questions to answer. Somehow, I think that’s likely to happen at some point anyway.”
“So who were they?” I asked.
“That is something I’m trying to find out. License plate wasn’t registered but a vehicle, same make and model, was stolen from a rental company in Richford.”
“Richford?” Dad asked.
“Richford is where Lily said she came from. Do you think that’s where the cult is?”
“I do. Anna-Marie and Lou, remember those names? Well, there is a couple registered as living in Richford.” He pulled out his pad and consulted his notes. “Anna-Marie and Louis Marsh, both deceased.”
“Dead?”
“From old age and a little over five years ago.”
“So, not the foster parents then?”
“Not officially, for sure. Also, no females, mid-forties to mid-fifties, brown hair, five feet tall, have been found dead in the past month.”
“But Zachary told us he’d identified Sister Anna’s body,” I said.
Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “There was a female, right age, blonde, death by carbon monoxide poisoning, suicide it was recorded as. She left a note.”
“And your man over at the state police told you this?” Dad asked.
“Yes.”
“So where does this leave us now?” I asked.
“Lily lied, there’s no doubt about that. Her motive for lying might not be what we initially assumed though. I’ve been thinking about this. She, and the fake feds, drop those statements into a conversation way too regular for me not to assume that’s all they’re after. But I think for different reasons. The fake feds want them to ensure there is no evidence. I’m not sure who they are working for just yet. But Lily…I can’t make my mind up why she’d want them.”
“So it’s a race then. Lily wants them, fake feds want them, Zachary, even, wants them, but they don’t exist. Believe me, if they did, I’d be fucking handing them over to stop this nightmare.”
“Those statements, Gabriel, are only part of this sorry mess. Taylor is the other. I think we need to draw them out. Bring them to us, let them think you’ve found the statements,” Dad said.
“And have them all turning up here? No way, this isn’t the O.K. Corral and he’s no Wyatt Earp.” I pointed to Thomas.
“I think we should grab some of the food Mrs. M’s set out and think on this,” Thomas said, I was pleased he seemed to be in agreement with me.
We headed into the kitchen, and I pulled Taylor off her chair, she laughed as I sat and placed her on my lap. She broke off pieces of bacon and fed me. We tried to chat about mundane things, but the strain was starting to show on everyone’s faces. Mom looked tired and I noticed her hands shook a little more than normal when she lifted her mug. I was barely holding it together; the pretense was the hardest thing. Not letting my daughter see anything was wrong, was tiring. Measuring every response, checking every word before it was spoken, was exhausting.
One of the ranch hands walked into the kitchen, they generally had free rein of the house, and Mom spent most of her day making sure they were fed.
“All done,” he said to Dad, who smiled and nodded. “Thanks, Jim, appreciate that.”
“What’s all done?” I asked when Jim had grabbed a plate of bacon and left.
“Traps, gotta big bad bear out in those woods. We don’t want it near the foal do we now, little lady,” Dad lied, tickling Taylor.
“We going to catch a bear?” she said, turning in my lap to look at me.
“Yep, and that’s why you need to promise me you will not go for a walk on your own. Don't want you caught in the trap now, do we?” Dad said.
Thomas’ phone started to vibrate on the table; he looked at it and rose. He answered his call as he walked back outside.
“Shit! Are you sure?” I heard him say.
I placed Taylor in my dad’s arms and rose. I followed Thomas back out.
“I’m on my way. No, keep it all there,” he said into his phone.
He disconnected the call and turned to me.
“A package arrived at the station, Gabe, from Sister Anna,” he said.
“I’m coming with you,” I said before rushing back to the kitchen.
“Baby girl, I need to go with Thomas, I’ll be back shortly, okay? You do what Grandpa tells you now, you hear?” I gave her a kiss and left.
Thomas had the car started when I climbed into the passenger seat.
“What’s in it?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Pete opened it, it wasn’t addressed to anyone in particular until he pulled out an envelope that had your name is on the top. He didn’t read any further.”
We made the half hour journey in half the time.
&nbs
p; The station was no more than a room with a front desk and one cell at the back next to the kitchen and bathroom. Pete had the counter raised as we came in the front door.
“On your desk,” he said.
Thomas sat in his chair and I sat opposite. He donned a pair of gloves and lifted the small envelope that had been left on top of a brown padded one, the same type that she’d given me just over a week ago. He opened it.
Thomas was silent as he read through; he then laid it on the desk and slid it toward me. “Don’t touch it,” he said.
“Pete, I need that fingerprint analysis back, pronto.”
I read.
Gabriel
I was unsure of your address, although I have visited your house, once. But I do know you are friends with the sheriff. I’ve added this note to an envelope I was supposed to deliver.
I am so sorry that I agreed to be a part of something that has resulted in so much heartache. I need you to know, I had no idea what was going on, not at first. I had no idea about the abuse. My heart bleeds for those poor children.
We've all been duped; we’ve all been made to believe so many lies over such a long time. I can’t live with myself, knowing I’ve played a part in it. I can’t live with myself, knowing what I did may have resulted in your wife’s death.
I can’t be involved anymore; I’m scared for my safety, so very scared. I want to tell you everything, I want to tell you who is behind this, but I can’t. And you’ll understand why when you find out.
I hope you can find some peace, and I hope you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me.
God bless, Gabriel.
Anna
While I was reading, Thomas had emptied the envelope; he looked up at me and smiled. “Statements,” he said.
There were five folded pieces of paper, each one a document that gave a name and address, the details of the abuse they suffered, not only at the convent, but also when they moved on. I read one; my stomach and heart would not allow me to read the rest. Tears formed in my eyes as I thought of those children, of my wife, and the suffering they had endured. I even felt a pang of sympathy for Lily.
“We need to find Lily,” I said.
Gabriel: A thriller (Standalone within the Divinus Pueri series) Page 16