by Linda Warren
Again, Eli couldn’t prove it. But now… “I’ve waited a long time for Buford to make a mistake, and taking a congressman’s daughter is about as big a one as you can get.”
“Still…” Tuck rubbed his hands together as he sat on Eli’s sofa.
Eli watched him and knew exactly what was on his mind. “You’re afraid I’ll kill him.”
Tuck kept looking at his hands. “Something like that.”
“I might want to, but I won’t. I’d have to live with the knowledge that I’d dishonored the memory of the man who loved me more and taught me more than anyone in this world. I live by Pa’s code of honor and I would never kill a man in cold blood. I’m going to get Buford and it’ll all be legal. So stop worrying.” He handed Tuck his gun and badge. “Keep these for me.”
A tap at the door forestalled further conversation.
“That’s the FBI,” Eli said, and went to let them in. Agents Bill Caufield and Tom Mercer shook hands with Eli and Tuck.
“Are you ready?” Bill asked Eli.
“Yeah. Nothing but a couple of dollars and change in my pocket. No ID.”
“Great,” Tom replied. “We appreciate your help—the sheriff said you’re the best. You know all about Buford and you’re familiar with the area.”
“Yeah,” Eli said, refusing to look at Tuck.
“Congressman Whitten and his wife are beside themselves. We spent a full day checking out Buford’s compound and we found no trace of Caroline Whitten.”
“Did you check for secret rooms?”
“Yes. We heard that’s a trademark of Buford’s, but we didn’t find one.” Agent Caufield unfolded a map on the kitchen table. “There are five other men who live there with Buford. Buford now has six wives. Of course, he doesn’t call them his wives to us. They’re ‘women in his family.’ The other men have at least two or three women each, and we’ve counted forty-eight kids. That’s the sad part—it’s a regular commune and we can’t prove a thing. The police have arrested Buford several times on polygamy charges, but he only has one marriage on record and the other women won’t testify against him. So far there’s not a law prohibiting a man from living with several women. But there’s a law against kidnapping. We might have him this time.”
“Why do you think he took Caroline Whitten?” Eli asked.
“She had a lunch date with her parents but didn’t show, and she missed a meeting with an editor. She’s a photographer and does work for a lot of Texas magazines. She never misses an appointment. Congressman Whitten knew something was wrong and called her fiancé, who said the last time he talked to her she had plans to meet her parents.”
“So how does Buford come into this?”
“It took awhile to piece everything together. There was no forced entry, doesn’t look as if anything was taken out of the apartment. Then a neighbor said she saw two bearded men in robes outside the building. Her fiancé, Colin Burke, told us that Ms. Whitten had an encounter with Buford and his followers when she was photographing wildflowers for a magazine spread. He said that they wore long robes and had full beards, and Ms. Whitten had been afraid of them.”
“That’s all you have?”
“That’s it. This is the third day and the only thing left to do is to try and infiltrate the group.”
“Maybe she’s not there.” Tuck spoke for the first time.
Agent Caufield shrugged. “It’s the only lead we have. We checked with all her friends. No one has seen her. We’re getting pressure on this and we have to find her.”
“What’s the plan?” Eli asked.
Tom tapped the map with his forefinger. “This is how the compound is laid out. There are six makeshift houses that have two bedrooms in each—one for the man and his women and the other for his children. That’s what we’re assuming. Then there’s a large eating room and kitchen with a wood burning stove. All the buildings are in a circle. In the center is where they meet and pray, and there’s a big area for a campfire. Everything is very primitive—no running water, no electricity. There’s a spring on the property they use for water.”
He paused, then added, “Our only recourse is to get someone into the group and see what we can find. This is one of the days they beg on street corners. A police car will drop you off in front of them. They’re drawn to those needing a haven, anyone who’s down and out. At this time of year they’re looking for strong men to help work the fields. They earn income from the vegetables they sell. So your job will be to get in there and find out what you can. We need to know where they’re hiding her. Once you do that, we’ll take over. Just get the hell outta there.”
Bill laid a photo on the table. “That’s Caroline Whitten. Take a good look.”
Eli stared at the photo. Light blond hair, shoulder length, in disarray around a very pretty, almost ethereal face… Her eyes were green. Buford favored blond women.
Like Ginny.
The room was silent.
“Ready?” Agent Caufield asked.
“Yes,” Eli answered. He was ready to meet Amos Buford.
He’d waited ten years.
CAROLINE DIDN’T KNOW how long she’d been here. Hours, days, weeks—everything was the same. The woman, Ruth, brought bread and water twice a day. The first and second times Caroline wouldn’t eat or drink. The third time she wasn’t so choosy.
Darkness was total and she felt it creeping into her soul. She’d beaten on the walls until her hands were numb. She’d screamed until her throat was raw. But nothing penetrated the blackness. Nothing eased its grip.
The air was close and dank and the room reeked. At times Caroline had trouble breathing. She had to hold on. The police must be looking for her by now, but how would they know where to find her? Colin. She’d told Colin about the cult and how she was afraid of them. He would remember. He would help her.
Please, Colin, tell my father and the police what I told you.
Colin wasn’t the type of man to go charging in after the woman he loved. Suddenly she needed that—a strong man who didn’t care about anyone or anything but her.
She twisted the ring on her finger. Lately she’d been having second thoughts about her engagement, and she didn’t know why. She loved Colin. They had the same interests—he owned camera stores in Austin, Dallas, San Antonio and Houston. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about cameras and photography. He helped her to improve her shots and they spent hours talking about angles and light.
But their intimate relationship wasn’t as satisfying, as it was comfortable. Caroline had given up on finding passion—red-hot passion. That didn’t last forever, anyway. But she loved Colin. And he was someone her father hadn’t picked for her. Was that his big attraction? God, no, this place was making her crazy.
A daughter’s guilt.
Earlier—how long ago?—that thought had made her nervous and angry. Now she saw it for what it was—meaningless pride. Her father wanted to bend her to his will, and she was determined to live her own life. In this black abyss, holding on to her pride seemed an insignificant, even petty, struggle.
She’d gladly trade her pride for the sight of daylight, for fresh air and time with her father. Time to say she was sorry and to…
She couldn’t breathe and she fought the suffocating feeling. Caroline was still in command of herself enough to know that the prophet was trying to brainwash her. Slowly, methodically, the darkness would eat away at her until—
Suddenly the wall opened and he stood there, the faint light like a yellow flame behind him. Caroline closed her eyes against the frightening scene. When she opened them again, Ruth was there with a white robe in her hands.
“I have brought your wedding robe,” the prophet said.
Ruth held it out to her. Caroline got to her feet and took it, then threw it on the dirt and spat on it.
“Blasphemy,” Ruth shouted, and grabbed the robe from the dirt.
“You have spirit,” the prophet said with a sinister smile.
“
But that will be broken.”
“You can’t keep me here forever. The police will find me and you’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars.”
“The FBI has already been here and they found nothing.”
“What?”
“If they come back, they won’t find you. At least not the person you used to be. You will be one of us by then and ready to fulfill the prophecy.”
“You’re evil,” Caroline declared between clenched teeth. “I’ll never be your wife. I’d rather die.”
His face hardened. “For your dishonor, you will be deprived of bread and water for a day. Then you’ll learn your place.”
“Never, never, never!” Caroline screamed as he disappeared through the wall and darkness engulfed her once again.
She sank onto the mattress, trying to still her trembling. Fear such as she’d never known before filled her. He was diabolical, out to kill her heart and her soul. Her body would survive, though.
To serve him.
No. No. No.
But the FBI had been here. They hadn’t found her. Oh God. Where was she that even the FBI couldn’t find her? In hell, she thought. And there was no way out of hell. She would die here in the darkness.
Or at least all that mattered would.
INFILTRATING THE CULT was easier than Eli had imagined. The police let him out of the cruiser with a few harsh words in front of Buford’s followers. They immediately came to his aid. He told them he was down on his luck and had nowhere to go. They said they’d let him work for food until he got his head straight, and he could listen to the word of the prophet, who would nourish his soul.
Eli was looking forward to that.
He climbed into the bed of an old pickup and they headed out of Austin to the hills. One man, Nathaniel, sat with him; two women were in the front with Samuel, the other man. No one spoke. They turned off a highway onto a dirt road. When they turned again, it was onto nothing more than a cow trail, and the ride was bumpy and dusty. This area was sparsely populated and there wasn’t a house in sight, just thick woods and brush.
Soon they stopped at a locked gate and Nathaniel got out to open it. Eli noticed the eight-foot-high barbed wire fence and the four-foot-high wire mesh that extended from the bottom up and enclosed the property. It wouldn’t be easy getting out of here.
They drove into an area that had been cleared and buildings stood in a circle, as Tom had said. Eli counted six shacks and a larger structure that had to be the kitchen and eating room. Women and children were working in vegetable fields beyond the compound. They all wore brown robes.
Chickens scratched in the dirt and goats wandered freely. Behind one shack was a rickety barn of sorts. The compound had a strange feel to it—as if it was out of step with time. And there was something else about it he couldn’t quite define.
As the truck pulled to a stop, the smell of smoke drifted to his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. This wasn’t cigarette smoke, though. What was it? He didn’t have time to ponder the question as two women, both pregnant, and several toddlers came to meet them. The women stared at the ground and didn’t speak. The children looked at him warily.
“Come this way,” Samuel said, and Eli followed him to the largest of the primitive houses. Samuel tapped on the door.
“Come in, my child,” a male voice called.
They walked in to find a man sitting at a table with a Bible opened in front of him. Two men stood behind him. Eli knew this was Amos Buford, and his heart hammered with anticipation, but he was careful that nothing showed on his face.
“Master, I found a needy soul and brought him to you.”
Buford raised his head, and Eli was unprepared for the emotions that gripped him as he stared into those evil gray eyes.
Tuck was right. Eli wanted to kill him.
He wanted to put his hands around his throat and choke the life out of him…as Buford had done to Ginny. But he wouldn’t. Caroline Whitten’s life depended on his honor as a ranger, and he wouldn’t forget that.
“What is your name, my son?” Buford asked.
“Eli Carter,” he replied, using the fake name the FBI had given him.
“Are you in trouble with the law?”
“I’m separated from my wife, and when I went to the house to see my kids, she called the cops and had me arrested. In the separation agreement I’m suppose to be providing child support, but I lost my job and was unable to pay her any money.” That was the story the FBI had also given him. Buford hated women who tried to dominate a man.
“Women do not know their place in this world.”
Neither do you, you bastard.
“Tell me about it,” Eli murmured.
“All persecuted souls are welcome here. You will work for your food. There are fields to tend and goats to milk, but you can only stay if you follow the rules and the prophet’s word.”
“No problem.”
“This is Ezra and Peter.” Buford introduced the men.
“They’re in charge of guarding the compound…and me.” He let that sink in, then added, “They will search you for any hidden devices that might harm us. Do you object?”
Eli got the feeling it didn’t matter whether he did or not. “No. I have nothing to hide.”
Ezra, a big somber man, gave him a thorough once-over. He nodded to Buford.
“We have to be careful,” Buford said. “There are people out to hurt us.”
“I just need a place to stay.”
“Then you’re welcome here, brother. You will not speak to the women, though. They’re off-limits to you. Do you understand?”
“Sure. A woman is the last thing on my mind.”
“If you’re in need of female comfort, let me know and I will arrange something.”
Eli managed to suppress his shock. Did they share the women? It was too sickening to think about.
“You will have a trial period, then you’ll be asked to join us in our beliefs or to leave.”
“I understand and thank you.”
The words tasted like sawdust in his mouth.
“We don’t have extra sleeping quarters, but there are some heavy quilts you can use to sleep under the stars, or if the weather is bad, you can sleep in the eating area.”
“Thanks,” Eli said again.
“Brother Michael and his sons are cutting wood. Brother Samuel will take you to help them.”
“Sure,” Eli replied, and they left. Outside he wanted to suck fresh air into his lungs, but he resisted and followed Samuel through the woods to the chopping site.
Eli kept searching for something out of place, something to indicate that Caroline Whitten was here. The place had an eerie quiet about it. The grass and trees were green and the air was fresh and invigorating, but he didn’t hear any birds or other sounds in the woods. It wasn’t an eerie quiet, he decided. It was a deathlike quiet.
They reached the site. A big dead tree had been felled and Michael and his sons, Daniel and David, were cutting it up with handsaws. Two mules hitched to a wagon waited nearby. Eli was introduced and Samuel left.
Eli helped load the cut wood until his arms ached and he was soaking with sweat. Finally the last piece of wood was on the wagon and they headed to the compound. Michael drove the mules and Eli walked behind with the boys. They had to be around fourteen and fifteen and were already sprouting beards.
“That’s a lot of wood,” Eli commented, trying to get information. “Does it last very long?”
“Not too long,” the older one, David, said. “We use it to cook.”
“And we need it for the wedding,” Daniel added.
“A wedding?”
“It’s going to be a big one. The prophet’s taking his seventh wife. It’s very important ’cause—”
“Daniel!” David exclaimed in a reprimanding tone.
The youth hung his head as he realized he’d misspoken.
“Hey, no problem,” Eli assured them. “The prophet helped me out whe
n I needed it and I’d love to be at his wedding to show my support and appreciation. I don’t know much about your faith but I’m willing to learn.”
“My brother doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” David said, and the boys ran toward the compound.
Eli stopped. Daniel knew what he was talking about. Caroline Whitten was marked as wife number seven. She was here. But where?
Caroline, where are you?
CHAPTER TWO
ELI KEPT HIS EYES AND EARS open, but he didn’t detect any evidence of Caroline. Supper was in the eating area and the men ate at a crudely made table. The meal was vegetable soup, bread and goat’s milk. After the women waited on the men, they sat on the floor and ate with the children. He noticed that most of the women were blond and young, probably in their late teens or early twenties. Two appeared to be in their thirties, and an older woman, maybe forty, with grayish-blond hair, seemed to be in charge.
One woman caught his eye. She had dark hair and eyes and looked out of place among the blondes. He wondered how she fitted in here. The other women made her do most of the kitchen work, and they shouted orders at her as if she were a servant.
After supper, the men had a meeting, and Eli was introduced to them more fully. It was clear that Samuel was Amos’s right-hand man. Ezra and Peter took care of security, along with four Dobermans. Nathaniel and Michael were in charge of maintenance of the compound, which meant they supplied firewood, tended to the vegetable fields and the goats and chickens. Amos informed Eli that he’d be working with Michael, then he was dismissed with another warning to stay away from the women.
He looked around, but since it was dark he couldn’t see much. He listened at the door to Buford’s house, then gave up when he couldn’t make out any of the muffled voices. But they were making plans—plans for a wedding. He hurried away before the men came out.
Later the group met around the campfire and the dark-haired woman brought out an ornate chair for Buford. Everyone sat on the ground and Amos began to preach. He spoke of hell, damnation, sinners and salvation. It was hard for Eli to listen, but he stoically kept a rein on his emotions.