by Geri Krotow
“Hi. I’m Nika.” She gave Rachel’s mother the typical teen mini wave.
“I’m Belinda Boyle. I’m sure Rachel’s complained to you about me.” Dry skin that flaked on her nose and around her lips stretched across what Nika thought had once been a pretty face. Beautiful, even. The flatness in her eyes and stilted manner in which she spoke was unnerving. No question, this was a woman who’d lost touch with herself and maybe even reality. Nika had seen it with compulsive shoplifters, gamblers, drug addicts and alcoholics. Rachel might be right—her mother might very well be addicted to the sick liturgy of Leonard Wise and his cult.
“Drop it, Mother.”
“Don’t speak to me with such disrespect, Rachel.”
Nika knew a teen would be uncomfortable in such a situation so she tried to look pained when in reality she was eager to find out what was causing the friction between the two. And it wouldn’t be so awful if Belinda Boyle came a little unhinged and revealed some of the cult tactics.
“We’re baking cookies, Mom. Would you like to join us? We’re going to talk about boys.”
“Very funny.” Still, Rachel got her way as Mrs. Boyle stood and gathered the books and notebook in front of her. “I’m going up to my room to continue my studies. Dinner will be at six.” With that, the spindly woman was gone, her back stiff as she exited the room.
Nika waited until she heard footsteps above them. “Wow, is she always that formal?”
Rachel huffed. “‘Formal’ isn’t the word I’d use. ‘Zombified’ is more like it.”
“Is it since your dad and she divorced?”
“I didn’t say they divorced, although they’re headed there. Dad left for Pittsburgh last summer and hasn’t been back. He invites me to dinner when he’s in town on business, wants to spend time together.”
“But?”
Rachel waved her hands. “Whatever’s he’s doing with work in Pittsburgh is more important than checking in on me. Except when it’s convenient for him.” Rachel shrugged. “It’s not a big deal. I’m used to being on my own since my brothers and sisters are so much older and have families of their own.”
“But he left you here knowing that your mother was losing it?”
Nika watched as pride warred with bare need in Rachel’s expression.
In that moment Nika knew she’d do whatever she could to make Rachel’s life easier.
Chapter 6
Rachel slammed down a cookie pan. “I don’t want to have anything to do with my father. He left me here with her and, yes, she’s nuts. Probably even certifiable. He wanted to take her to some kind of psycho intervention. You know, to make her see that she’s lost it, that she’s being brainwashed by these crazy people. But she wouldn’t go to any kind of counseling, so he left. I could have gone with him but it’s my senior year and I didn’t want to have to change schools. I don’t know how you did it, Nika. Plus, I don’t want to leave her alone. Mom drives me crazy but she’s so, so vulnerable, you know?”
Nika fought to not embrace Rachel in a reassuring hug. It wasn’t something a teen would necessarily do, and she didn’t know how much Rachel knew about the True Believers. How they’d reformed as the New Thought ministry. Only SVPD and a handful of federal agencies like the FBI knew how deadly the True Believers were.
“You’re a good daughter.”
“Or a very stupid one.”
“What about when you go to college? You’re going to go to college, right?”
Rachel pulled out flour and chocolate chips. “I wanted to apply to Johns Hopkins. I have the grades and SAT scores, and I wanted premed. But with mom so sick, and now that my father left, I can’t just leave her, you know?”
“Why not? Maybe if you leave she’ll figure out that what she’s doing is crazy. You know, like letting an addict hit their bottom.”
Rachel shook her head so hard Nika thought she’d sprain her neck. “No. She’s under their spell and until she breaks free of it, she has no one but me. She’s cut off her sisters, her whole family. No one wants to talk to her after this summer, anyhow.”
“What happened this summer?”
“She made a big speech at our family’s—her family’s—Fourth of July picnic. We all get together and go up to a lake in the Poconos, where we have a cabin. She told everyone that they were going to burn in hell if they didn’t start learning about the New Thought process and change their ways. Said we all need to start stockpiling and preparing for a long drought of food and living supplies.”
Rachel rolled her eyes. “That’s why she won’t run the gas heat. The woodstove is all we can use. She lets us use the kitchen stove and oven only because she thinks it’s close enough to how the woodstove works.” Rachel stopped pulling supplies out of cabinets and stared at Nika. “Do you see why I’m so tired all the time? I’ve got a lot going on here.”
“Do you have aunts or uncles who could help you?”
“Sure, but they all have their own kids to raise, and they’re too far away. I know it’s selfish but I want to finish high school in the same place I started it.” Rachel’s eyes shone with a determination that Nika knew would serve her well through life. It was heartbreaking that she’d had to channel it so soon, though.
“Why don’t you ask someone at school for help, Rachel? One of the counselors, Principal Essis or even Mr. Everlock?”
“Are you kidding? The last thing I need is for the authorities to come up here and haul my mom away. It will only convince her that she’s right—she thinks the police are the faces of the devil. I’m eighteen, so legally I can live on my own, but my father would insist I come live with him, and like I said, he’s four hours away in Pittsburgh. I don’t want the hassle of moving.”
“I get it.” Well, Nika didn’t get the “police being evil” part. But she understood something about Rachel that Rachel didn’t even comprehend. Rachel scarily reminded Nika of herself. She cared too much, to the point of making herself suffer from the bad choices others made.
“No offense, Nika, but I don’t think you could get it at all. Your parents are together and they’re not being brainwashed by some scary group, are they?” Rachel smiled, showing a sense of humor that made Nika again want to hug her.
“You’re right, but my family did survive the Soviets. My grandparents and parents came over here right after the Berlin Wall came down. I’ve been told all my life to never trust the government.” This was all true. As was the fact she was now a part of the government. But that wasn’t something she’d tell Rachel, at least not now.
Nika vowed to help Rachel after this case was solved. No teen should have to suffer because of this damned cult. If she could put Leonard Wise behind bars right this minute, she would. But it wouldn’t be enough.
The entire cult had to be brought down.
*
“Where’s the bathroom? I drank a latte on the way here.” The kids were all drinking specialty drinks in the high school, so Nika thought it was a plausible excuse to get out of Rachel’s kitchen.
“Down the hall, to the left.” Rachel was focused on not burning the batch of Christmas cutout cookies they’d put in the oven. They’d stamped out dozens of snowmen and snowflakes.
Nika walked down the hall, turned on the bathroom light and vent, and then kept walking. In the living room she found piles of brochures and cheaply printed books. The books were printed on bright white paper, not unlike copy paper, and sported glaringly glossy covers with titles like What the Government Won’t Tell You, How to Live Off-Grid and On Your Own and Survival Basics in the Apocalypse. All authored by Leonard Wise. They were awful and inflammatory but there was nothing that indicated criminal wrongdoing. She put the pile the way she’d found it, needing to get back to the kitchen. Her gaze landed on a book she’d initially missed and she froze.
New Thought Basics: The Best Years for Family. Skimming the table of contents, her gut twisted as she read the beginnings of the first chapter.
“‘It’s preferable to
have girls live in community with the entire family after their menses has started. This keeps them intact until they are able to serve the highest purpose.’”
The twisted rhetoric was the same that the True Believers had spouted twenty years ago. When Zora Krasny had been a brave little twelve-year-old and broken free of the cult.
Nika felt immediate revulsion and elation. Repulsed by the words and the psychologically ill person who wrote them; sickened by the evil the words lent themselves to. Elated that she was holding proof of the sick bastard’s plan.
Leonard Wise was planning again to start his own “nation” of perfect children, this time in Silver Valley. She pulled out her phone and took as many photos of the leaflets and books that she could, especially of any pages that would prove Wise was planning criminal activity. Or worse, already involved in it. If she thought she could take the books and not be noticed, she would, but it wasn’t doable, not if she wanted to remain undercover for the next few weeks.
Putting her phone away, she reached for the book with the most incriminating title: Why New Thought Survives Hostile Law Enforcement.
“Nika?” Rachel stood at the edge of the living room, staring at her.
*
Nika wasn’t sure how she’d done it but she’d managed to convince Rachel that she’d been interested in the Silver Valley weekly paper that had caught her eye as she’d peeked into the living room.
“I saw the Beauty Is Us ad and wanted to see if there’s a coupon. My mom threw ours out before I had a chance to cut it out.”
“You shop at Beauty Is Us?” Rachel’s sweeping, dismissive assessment of Nika’s appearance could be interpreted as hurtful but Nika wasn’t feeling anything more than relief that she’d wiggled out of a tight spot. She’d narrowly missed blowing her cover.
“For mascara and skin cream.” It was obvious she wasn’t wearing any other cosmetics. She’d toned down her everyday makeup to look more like a teen than a twenty-eight-year-old.
“We used to go there, mom and I.” Rachel turned and went into the kitchen, and Nika followed. “But since she’s gone hard-core on this group, and dad left, there isn’t any extra money for things like makeup.” Or clothes, or shoes, judging from how threadbare Rachel’s outfits were at school. Today she wore an old, faded sweatshirt with tired leggings and ratty slippers. Nika made a mental note to get Rachel a gift certificate to the consignment store favored by the teens. The one with all of the latest fashions and brand names, gently used and more affordable.
But it would have to be after the case was closed, when hopefully Rachel had a semblance of a normal life back. Nika wasn’t sure how she’d help make it all happen but she would. Rachel deserved more than this.
Nika worked alongside Rachel for the next hour, until they had several dozen cookies baked, cooled and sealed into storage bags. “Do you want me to put these in your freezer?”
Rachel scowled. “No, I’ll do it. No telling what kind of crap you’d have to dig through in either of the chest freezers to make room for these.” She didn’t elaborate and Nika left it alone. She’d gotten more than she’d expected from her time in Rachel’s house.
“Okay, well, I’ve got to head out now. My mom needs the car back for her book group tonight.” The lie came easily off her lips for the sake of the case. What concerned Nika was afterward—she wanted Rachel to be able to trust her, to rely on her for what promised to be a difficult adjustment once the cult was apprehended and her mother sent to a mental hospital.
“Thanks for coming over. I’ll see you at school.”
As Nika drove away from Rachel’s she took note of her surroundings, and not just in the usual manner dictated by her police training. The dark night was ominous and suffocating under the tall trees that lined the driveway. She’d seen most of Silver Valley, or so she’d thought, on her many patrols over the years. What was frightening about the Boyle home was that it had been purposefully let go; it was run-down from choice. This was the effect of a different kind of addiction than Nika was used to seeing: a dependence on a sick message from a twisted mind.
She wasn’t a psychoanalyst but Nika knew one thing for sure: the sooner Rachel was away from her mother and the New Thought’s cunning tactics, the better.
*
“I know you said to keep this in the hands of SVPD, and no offense to you, Colt, but I think we’d all benefit if you’d let me handle this from a Trail Hikers’ perspective. We’d certainly wrap it up more quickly.” Mitch addressed the SVPD Chief of Police Colt Todd and their Trail Hikers’ boss, Claudia, as they sat in Colt’s office. Mitch could tell that he wasn’t getting anywhere with Todd or Claudia, but he had to keep pressing his point. The safety of his students depended on it.
Bullshit. You’re worried about Nika, too.
“Can I have a little more hot water, Colt?” Claudia stretched her arm out to hand him her mug.
“Sure. Here you go.” The police chief reached for the carafe of water and leaned over his desk to meet Claudia halfway, filling her cup. “You like my new tea?” Colt and Claudia’s eyes met and Mitch bit back the urge to tell them to get a room.
Hell.
Sitting cross-legged with his foot on his knee, Mitch stretched his neck and tried to stop shaking his foot. They’d decided to meet at the station as it was a good cover for Mitch. No one would bat an eye at the chemistry teacher showing up after he’d had a rock thrown through his classroom window. Claudia was in and out of the station on an almost daily basis and had been given the cover job of SVPD Social Media Director, or as Colt referred to it, Facebook guru. SVPD had its own Facebook and Twitter accounts, and now Claudia was working with local community college students she’d recruited for internships to establish a Snapchat account. Anything to keep abreast of the modern world and tap into the word on the street.
More like the word in the cloud.
Claudia was dressed down for Claudia, which meant she was in a spotless business suit complete with four-inch heels. Mitch watched how she sat back down, how the blush in her cheeks contrasted prettily with her silver hair. Mitch knew the chief was more than interested in his TH boss, and while he didn’t blame him, he really didn’t want to know the details, either.
“‘Your’ tea, Colt? Did you pick the leaves yourself?”
Colt grinned. “It’s a special blend of jasmine, lavender and green. I added some cinnamon for a Christmas taste.”
Mitch couldn’t stand it.
“Look, can we get to the bottom of our issues? I’m convinced there’s a lot more than a disgruntled student harassing me. Do you think it’s possible that the cult somehow knows about TH?”
“No.” Colt and Claudia spoke in unison.
“Has something got you worked up, son?” Colt Todd’s eyes were on him.
“Nika was going over to Rachel’s—the student from class—house after school today. To bake cookies for the LGBT club fund-raiser. Rachel’s the one with the mother who’s gone a bit overboard with the cult. She could be our way in.” He looked at his watch. “I thought we’d hear back from her by now. Or that Bryce would hear back.” He looked at Claudia, hoping she’d finally see a way to let him into this as more than an observer.
“You’re concerned about Nika Pasczenko.” Claudia didn’t miss a damn thing.
Neither did Colt. “I can vouch for Nika, Mitch. She’s one of the finest officers on SVPD, and she knows how to run an undercover op better than most.”
“Yeah, but she’s all there is to this undercover op. No backup. You don’t even have her wired, am I right?”
Colt held up his hands, palms up. “Whoa. This isn’t high risk, not yet. Nika will call in the minute anything hints of an escalation or potential for danger.”
“I call a rock smashing through a classroom window dangerous. Definitely escalation after the previous threats being notes. How do we know the thrower wasn’t aiming for Nika? That someone knows she’s working undercover?” He tried to keep a lid on his angst bu
t was finding it increasingly difficult as all he got from Colt and Claudia was nonreaction. Didn’t they see how quickly a situation with the cult could become volatile?
“You know yourself how careful we are with our specific roles, Mitch. I’m sure no one suspects Nika of being undercover—yet.” Claudia clucked as if she were his mother and not a Marine who’d had the same training he had.
“Trust me, Mitch, Nika’s taking every precaution to stay safe. Look around you. Everyone in this station thinks you’re here about the message in blood on your classroom SMART Board and the rock. They have no clue that you’re anything but a Silver Valley High chemistry teacher. Hell, do you even tell anyone about your Marine Corps experience?”
Mitch grimaced. “No. Although I told Nika.”
He saw Claudia’s eyes narrow and inwardly groaned.
“Mitch, have you been having more of your PTSD symptoms?” Only Claudia could be so direct.
“To be honest, yeah, I had a little one right after the last blood message.”
“The rock didn’t trigger anything?”
“No, not at all.” As he said it he realized that no, he hadn’t had any reaction to the shattering window. His only instinct had been to protect Nika.
“It sounds like you’re doing much, much better. Except for maybe being a bit overly concerned about Officer Pasczenko.” Claudia sipped her tea, trying to hide her grin. Her casual posture didn’t fool him.
“I am doing better. Much.”
“Several of my officers have dealt with the same thing, as so many of them are vets like you, Mitch.” Colt leaned forward. “If you’d like to talk to any of them, I’m happy to put you in touch.”
“I’m okay for now. It’s not pleasant, as you know, but it’s manageable at this point.” He was so damned grateful Claudia had still taken him on for TH, despite his lingering symptoms. She’d sought him out shortly after he’d settled in Silver Valley.
“You misunderstand me, Mitch. I mean that I’d like you to talk to my officers who aren’t as far along in their healing as you.”