Still in the basement, at the front of the house where the water pipe came in, was the electric panel. She used her cell flashlight to check the breakers, but nothing had tripped. The failure came from outside.
A call came in from Doctor Mandy. Angel skipped the greeting. “They cut my power, but the house is empty. Find anything?”
Agent Ruby said, “Mark booked the 11:30 flight to West Palm out of Lorry Airport, but he didn’t check in.”
Chapter 64
Angel expected the worst but held out hope there was an explanation. Maybe Mark was already gone when they cut the power, just so they could search the house undetected. The coincidence of no cell service, a dead battery, or simple misplacement had long odds.
Another call went straight to voice mail; another text was undeliverable. Angel paced the living room while shoveling down plain Ritz crackers just to get some fuel. The sun began its descent.
She shook her head as if the dark thoughts would find another home. Morbid inclinations had been coming easily lately, and she dismissed them just as quick, like so much dandruff off the shoulder.
Could any of those men - could her father - still be alive? There were so many places in Lemon Twig to hold them separately or together. The players could have been traded off from house to house, between Blondeaux cousins, knowing the clan would never speak out. But for three decades? What could the family possibly gain?
She couldn’t stay in the house. The Rock turned over a few times, arguing before roaring to life - another bad sign. The bear had even fallen sideways. He looked a bit sadder than before. She drove off her property and headed to the prison to start her search.
Nothing had changed since she’d last been there, except a new lock was on the gate. She still squeezed through, smashing her chest a bit. Her immediate target was the cell with the bars. For good measure, she glanced in the area Clint Johnson had been found. It took a half-hour to carefully walk the entire premises. She ran back to the Rock for her next stop.
Fifteen minutes later, the Wilkens marquee came into view. Bobby’s SUV was on the side of the house, just behind the black hearse. She parked, waiting a moment before heading to check the vehicle interiors through the windows. The hearse was clear, and the SUV was clean, except for a water bottle in the cup-holder.
“What are you looking for?” The question came from Joe-Joe in the back of the funeral home, just outside the privacy fence.
Angel scowled. “Checking something.” Did he put Mark in the cremator like Delilah?
“Answer the question.” With an aggressive step, his feet tangled in a garden hose.
“Cut the macho bullshit.” She walked up to him. “I see the leg is healing nicely.”
His lip-sneer flared. “Answer the question.”
Angel stood four feet away from him. “I wanted to make sure my missing friend’s blood wasn’t splattered on the interior. Seems you have experience with doing that.”
Joe-Joe’s lips widened into a grin. “I’m glad I shot him.”
“We’re done, Joe-Joe. Done in every way. I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“I ain’t seen your boyfriend.”
“I know you killed Delilah. I just can’t prove it.”
He picked under his nose. “Freak-boy tell you that?”
“How do you give yourself away so easily? You’d never survive a real interrogation.” She inched even closer. “I will prove it. And you will pay.”
His finger left from his nose to his chin as if thinking. “It’s more likely freak-boy killed him and that bitch Delilah.”
Angel unsnapped the strap of her holster. “Why don’t we go look around the crematorium?”
Bobby appeared from the back gate. “Mark’s not here, Angel. But I can’t vouch for Joe-Joe’s alibi today. He just arrived.”
“Alibi? I was home, you piece of shit.”
“An insult is only as worthy as the source.” Bobby glared at him before looking to Angel. “I have an idea of where Mark Senn could be.”
Joe-Joe puffed his chest. “Get back inside.”
Bobby ignored him. He unlocked the SUV with a key fob. “Get in, Angel.”
“That’s not a good idea.” Joe-Joe quickly stepped to the side of the car. “Trevor won’t like this.”
“Everyone has a cross to bear.”
Joe-Joe seethed, punching the passenger side window as the SUV started forward. “You’re buying yourself a heap of trouble.”
In the side-view mirror, Angel watched Joe-Joe start dialing on his cell.
Chapter 65
“Seems like Joe-Joe has gotten very ambitious.” Angel admired the orange hue on the horizon. “He’s a dick for threatening you with Trevor.”
Bobby made sure the cool air was blowing. “He was used to manipulating me with that. Despite my best efforts, I’m a proverbial Pavlov’s dog.”
They drove toward Main Street. “So… where are we going now?”
“I’m taking you to meet your maker.”
Angel’s head snapped toward him. “My maker?”
“Church. I’m taking you to church.” He shrugged. “Sorry, that sounded witty in my head. Humor escapes me.”
“You think Trevor has Mark?”
“Trevor is a perfect Gemini. The man has two sides, and he plays them both perfectly like a Stradivarius. A dichotic blend of compassion and ruthlessness. He’s loyal but will defy authority.”
“Do you think Trevor is capable of murder?”
“For all intents and purposes, he’s a Blondeaux by association and he serves God. His rationalizations know no bounds. If they were to kill Mark, and you still don’t relent, you’ll be next because they have no one else to threaten you with. You have to stop thinking like a Blondeaux and start thinking like an FBI agent again.” Bobby kept his eyes forward.
She watched him concentrate. “How do I know your true intentions?”
“Very good.” Bobby gave her a sly look. “Trevor is an unknown quantity. He’s about self preservation. He knows things. Imagine playing chess. Trevor thinks himself a knight protecting the queen.”
“Are we pawns?”
“Mark, Delilah, Clint, and Joe-Joe are pawns. You have to set up moves to lure Trevor into failure.”
Angel sighed. “I’ve talked to him several times already.”
“You may think you questioned him properly, but you are too close to these people. It’s like you left your training at the parish line. You become that child again when you come back, same as I revert to that boy Trevor used to discipline. You have to act like you don’t know anyone here.”
“That’s hard to do.” She bit her bottom lip. “Who killed Doug?”
“Uncle Earl.”
Uncle Earl? Hearing the truth felt like removing an annoying splinter. “How do you know?”
Bobby pulled the car to the shoulder of the road. He turned to her. “I know because I saw them argue. He said something about Rob being on board but wouldn’t allow Doug to ruin everything. And then he stabbed him… repeatedly. The rage in his face matched a crazed soldier in a medieval battle. I’m sure that moment in time is lost to him.”
“My dad was on board? What did he mean?”
“I assume he meant your father would keep his mouth shut about illegal activity, whereas Doug was not going to.”
“And you took the fall for Doug’s murder?”
“It was best for the family. How can I explain that my reasoning supersedes my skewed morality?”
“Try.”
“My fate is irrelevant. Everyone on earth is a dead person that hasn’t died yet. I have no aversion to death or how I spend my short life, whether in prison or in therapy. It’s nothing to fear. It’s the ultimate peace. People fear the unknown. Hence, religion.”
“Seems you’re looking for control now.”
“Our brain chemistry changes with age. My morals were dormant, for lack of a better term. I do not view myself as a pawn on this chessboard any longer.” He pull
ed back onto the road. “I am a rook.”
She smiled. The SUV cruised past the church and into the empty driveway of the church rectory. “No lights are on.”
Bobby waited behind the wheel as Angel divided the headlights on the way to the porch. Her fist cast large shadows as it pounded on the door. No one stirred within. She rang the bell for good measure.
When it was clear no one was answering, she faced the vehicle with her hands on her hips. The abandoned house of God came into view.
“Mark could be in the church,” she said while passing the driver’s side window. “I have to break in.”
“Hold on. I have a key and a flashlight.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Angel thought to argue but felt safer to have Bobby with her. For one thing, she doubted if anyone was being held captive inside without guards or a lookout, and two, Bobby could probably spot anomalies better than the average layperson.
She led him to the front door. “You ever been in this place?”
“No. I stay away from religion. Reverend Trevor held mass for me and Lucy May in the cage without Doug knowing, and then Doug would give his own sermon, but that mainly consisted of condemning me to hell. I would rather wait for my demise to meet the real God.” He turned the key in the lock.
“You want to know who your dad is?”
“I find myself eager to learn my father’s baseball stats.”
“His stats?”
“I assume that was one of the main things he cared about when he died. I would like to care about them, too.”
“That’s nice.”
They entered the church. “How are the DNA tests going?”
“Slowly. I’ll let you know as soon as I find out.”
Inside the broad entrance, the flashlight rose to do a general survey of the spacious foyer where parishioners could take pamphlets. The ornate dresser was still there, along with the marbled walls and a hanging mirror.
They continued into the main space, an endless void in the darkness. Angel felt as if she was floating without a tether. It was undoubtedly an awe-inspiring church with pews on each side of the main aisle. The roof was high like the clouds with impressive stained-glass windows rising up the walls. The town had a prison with no prisoners and a church with no one to save.
“What can they fit? Four or five hundred people?” Angel remarked.
“More like a thousand with the gallery. So, why the leap to an arena, you’re asking yourself? I ask that, too.” Bobby moved forward as he swung the torch left and right. He trotted up the altar’s steps and checked the offices in the back while Angel followed. She didn’t mind letting Bobby take the lead. It was the best way to keep her eye on him.
“Check this out.” Bobby pointed the flashlight.
Angel looked in the church office to see a chair with duct tape residue on the arms and two front legs. When she bent down for a closer look, droplets of blood came into focus. “Someone was bound to this chair.”
“Was this recent?” he asked.
She shone her light on a half-eaten sandwich. The tip of her finger touched it. “Stale, but not hard. They might’ve left hours ago.”
“I didn’t notice any vehicles leaving the property as we drove up.”
“Me either. It’s time to bring in reinforcements and start real interrogations. I’ll get FBI forensics in here to determine if this is Mark’s blood. We have to find Trevor.”
Chapter 66
The Tiguan slowed on the narrow passage. Lucy May had slipped into a state of resignation. Trevor drove them with caution. In the dead of night without streetlights, anything on the road could sneak up fast. She imagined glowing eyes floating in the tree line. She rubbed her belly, not interested in looking at the bugs flashing in the headlights.
“Nervous?” Trevor asked, unaware that he appeared more fidgety than she.
Perhaps the life growing inside had given her the courage to speak out. Maybe it was Angel. She didn’t want her child to know shame. “I just think this is ridiculous.”
Trevor kept his attention forward. “You know your maw maw Paulette insists she be your doctor.”
“I’m not going to be allowed to leave until the baby is born. This whole family dynamic, it all seems so silly.”
“Silly?” Trevor pumped the brakes for no reason. “She wants to protect you at all costs. You think the millions that flow through the parish is silly?”
“Maybe that’s the wrong word. Overkill. It’s overkill. The baby will be fine.” She continued to rub her belly.
“It’s time you start acting like a leader, not an Angel wannabe.”
She didn’t react. “You don’t understand.”
“You’re dressing like her. Dyed your hair, wearing it like her. All for Joe-Joe, who will treat you like shit once the honeymoon is over.”
“I like who I am now.”
“And I commend you for exerting yourself and coming out of your shell, but you’re not Angel.”
“I’d be very careful about the next words out of your mouth.”
“A threat?” He laughed, but with ire. “It wasn’t an insult. You’re strong. You’re smart. You just need the confidence to be patronne.”
She almost bit at her manicure. “I’ll never be patronne.”
“It’s yours to inherit. You don’t have to be ruthless. There are ways to make money without the death and carnage. Just don’t show weakness to the soldiers, and the family will follow you.” The outline of Trevor’s throat swallowed in the darkness.
Her hand touched his. “What would my grandmother think about you really being my father instead of Doug?”
“I think she’d order me dead.”
“What would she think about Joe-Joe being the father of my baby?”
“She cares about lineage, not relationships. I don’t like him, Lucy May. I’ve done bad things, but evil lives within him, the kind that stains other people’s souls. Not to mention, Joe-Joe is too stupid to figure out he doesn’t matter in this equation.”
“He’s smart enough not to ask.” Lucy May closed her eyes. “Did you love my mother?”
He didn’t hesitate. “I loved Lorna with all of my heart. And I love you enough to keep that secret.”
“You love who I would become. The patronne.”
“I’m proud of you for that. I don’t love you for that.”
Chapter 67
Bobby invited Angel inside the funeral home, promising they could speak in private without Joe-Joe’s interference. The tastefully decorated home was eerily quiet. He took her straight to the kitchen for two Nespresso decaf lattes.
She commented on how tasteful their funeral home was, and the immaculate cleanliness of every single item. They retired to the picnic table in the back where she had first encountered Izzy at Lorna’s funeral. They each had a fresh coffee.
“I have something for you.” Bobby produced a simple, small box, pushing it across the table.
“What’s this?”
“Delilah.”
“Oh.” She didn’t open it. “You saved… her?”
“It might not be a good idea to explain this to her family, but I thought you can spread her ashes someplace special. Or keep her someplace where you might one day tell her family after justice has been served.”
“Thank you.” She placed the box next to her.
They sat silent for a few moments. Angel ran her fingers over a knot in the wood surface like braille, looking at a spectacular garden with colors from each end of the spectrum.
“Who does your flowers?”
“Blondeaux Landscaping,” Bobby said plainly. “Lucy May oversaw this herself.”
“Of course.” Angel took it in. “A good job, actually.”
“They also distribute drugs in potting soil. They’re another laundering facility. Perfect cover.”
“No surprise. What’s the deal with them?”
“They got a trailer down at the end of Channel Road. Fenced in Bobcats. Jake B
londeaux died, and his son Isaac runs it. They contract the employees.” He used finger quotes. “They hire cheap labor when they get legitimate jobs that are too big. Why?”
“Something’s been bugging me. I might pay them a visit.”
Bobby nodded. “A visit? I enjoy subtext.”
She looked at him. “Reading between the lines. You can really figure people out that way.”
“Why did you stay?” Bobby offered no ill will or aggression.
“To find the truth.”
“Truth in Lemon Twig. Like trying to prove God’s existence.” The table vibrated as he rapidly tapped his foot.
“Doug revealed truth to you that night.”
He stopped tapping his foot. “We witnessed Uncle Earl silence him. I remember thinking Doug wasn’t Doug anymore. Not breathing. Not moving. And I suddenly liked Doug more.”
“Dead.”
“Yes. The dead are easier to forgive. If I didn’t forgive him, then he would continue to control me. Reverend Trevor handed me the knife. Earl showered. They all promised nothing would happen to me.”
Angel stayed even. “Have you told anyone else this?”
“Only you.” He rubbed at the back of his neck. “Just months ago, it all started to bother me. My sleep has turned troublesome. This is not a secret I’m comfortable with.”
“Is that everything you remember?”
“I remember Uncle Earl told Lorna he had to go see Rob that night.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know, but I thought Rob might end up like Doug. As I experienced the world outside of Doug’s influence, I learned that the answers weren’t so black and white.”
“Lucy May and Trevor are missing.”
“They aren’t missing. I’ll bet my sanity they’re at the mansion. Possibly Mark, too.”
Angel’s cell vibrated, indicating an incoming text. She expected to see one from Ruby, but it was a restricted number.
Unknown: Meet me at Lorna’s. Come alone. Your uncle.
“I’m sorry, Bobby. I have to go.” She took the box.
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