by Cindi Myers
“You may be in the best position to learn what happened with Lucia Raton,” Michael said. “Whatever evidence you can find could be crucial to making a case.”
Walt nodded. As long as Metwater and his people saw Walt and Hannah as prospective members who were interested in the Prophet’s teachings, they were more likely to let down their guard and reveal information that could help solve one or more crimes. Provided Walt could hold on to his cover long enough and get back in Metwater’s good graces after disobeying orders and coming here tonight. He was going to have to do some fast talking to do so, but maybe Metwater’s desire to keep Hannah around would work in their favor. “I’ll try to learn as much as I can,” he said.
Graham walked with him to the door and shook his hand. “We’ll be back in camp after we’ve searched the grave. We’ll let you know what we find then.”
“By that time, I hope Hannah and I are ready to leave. Everything in camp looks innocent enough, but something about the whole setup rubs me the wrong way. Metwater is up to something—we just haven’t figured out what yet.”
Chapter Ten
Hannah spent a restless night on a sofa on one side of the travel trailer Phoenix shared with her daughter Sophie and the baby. Worries over where Walt might be and what he might be doing competed with nightmares of Kiram or Daniel Metwater leering over her to prevent sleep. Had Walt made it safely to the road? What would the Rangers do with the information he gave them? Was the grave that of the missing young woman? Who had killed her and put her there? Had Kiram merely been trying to frighten her when he had grabbed her earlier, or had he really intended to hurt her? Had Emily suffered a similar fright, which had eventually led to her death?
She tried to distract herself by focusing on the baby. Little Vicki slept in a porta-crib next to Phoenix’s bed, and Hannah could just see her from the sofa. The child slept peacefully, fist in her mouth, clad in a pink fleece sleeper. Hannah fought the urge to take the baby from the crib and cuddle her. But that would only awaken Phoenix and the baby and arouse suspicion. And it wouldn’t really tell Hannah anything, only satisfy her longing to hold the child in her arms.
Phoenix awakened at dawn to tend to the baby. Hannah sat up on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around her, and watched as the older woman prepared a bottle of formula. “Would you like to feed her while I get dressed?” Phoenix asked.
“Yes.” Hannah held out her arms and took the child, who stared up at her with sleepy eyes. Vicki took the bottle readily and Hannah settled back to marvel at the baby’s sweet perfection. Sophie got out of her bunk and came to sit beside her.
“She eats like a little piglet,” the girl said, letting the baby latch on to her index finger.
“She’s always had a healthy appetite.” Phoenix emerged from her bedroom and joined them. “I’m grateful for that.”
“Would you think I was terribly nosy if I asked about her father?” Hannah kept her eyes focused on the baby, though she braced herself for Phoenix’s answer.
“The Prophet is her father,” Phoenix said, unflustered by the question.
“Oh. I didn’t know.”
Phoenix removed the now-empty bottle from Vicki’s mouth. “I’ll take her now,” she said, and raised the baby to her shoulder and began patting her back. “He’s the father to all the children here,” Phoenix said. “If not physically, then certainly spiritually.”
Sophie made a face. “He’s not my father,” she said.
“Now, Sophie,” her mother said.
Sophie turned to Hannah. “My father is a musician in San Francisco. But we don’t see him much.” She shrugged. “It’s okay. He’s kind of messed up.”
“Sophie, why don’t you run ahead to help Starfall and the others with breakfast,” Phoenix said. “Serenity and I will be along soon.”
“She doesn’t like it when I talk about my dad,” Sophie said, standing. “She and the Prophet are big into forgetting the past, but I don’t see how anyone can really do that, do you?”
“Sophie!”
“I’m going.” Grinning, the girl skipped from the trailer.
Phoenix settled onto the sofa beside Hannah. “I’m sorry about that,” she said. “I guess Sophie is a little young to understand all the spiritual concepts the Prophet is trying to teach us.”
“You mean, about forgetting the past.”
“Maybe not forgetting.” She laid the baby across her lap and began removing her diaper. “But putting it behind us. She and I made a fresh start when we came here. It’s time to look forward, not backward.” Her eyes met Hannah’s. “We all have things in our past we would like to not dwell on.”
“Yes. But the past shapes us,” Hannah said. “We are who we are because of it.”
“I would rather not remember the pain,” Phoenix said. “I want to focus on the future.” She fastened the baby’s diaper and smiled down at the child. “Let’s go to breakfast,” she said.
“The Prophet said last night you were in charge of me,” Hannah said as they made their way through camp toward the outdoor kitchen. “Does that mean you’re my guard? Will you get in trouble if I leave?”
“Think of me as your companion.” She hooked her arm in Hannah’s. “I’m watching out for you and helping you. There’s no need for you to be alone.”
“My husband will be back soon,” she said, resisting the urge to pull away from the other woman.
“He’ll be assigned a companion, as well. The two of you will be kept apart until the council.”
Hannah stopped. “Why?”
“It’s for your own good,” Phoenix said. “So that you can think more clearly, and so that you will be fairly judged separately and not as a single unit. His crimes don’t have to reflect on you.”
“Walt hasn’t committed any crime,” Hannah said. “He did the right thing, notifying the police about that grave.”
Phoenix’s gaze shifted away, and her mouth grew pinched. “Disobeying the Prophet is wrong,” she said. “He has good reasons for all of his decisions. If you want to be a part of the Family, you need to realize that.” She took Hannah’s hand. “Come on. We’ll be late for breakfast. You’ll feel better after you eat.”
Hannah tugged her hand free, but walked beside Phoenix to the cook tent. She left her with the other women and got in line for oatmeal and dried berries, then found a seat on a bench next to Sophie. “Did you and Mom have a fight about something?” Sophie asked.
“Your mother thinks my husband should be punished because he disobeyed the Prophet, even though he was doing the right thing,” Hannah said.
“It’s a big deal to disobey the Prophet,” Sophie said. “It almost never happens.”
“Who was the last person to break one of his rules?” Hannah asked.
Sophie dug into her bowl of oatmeal. “We’re not supposed to talk about it.”
“I didn’t know the person, so what could it hurt?” Hannah said. “Maybe by telling me who they were and what they did, you could help me not to make the same mistake.”
Sophie considered this. “It was a girl called Freedom. Well, that’s what the Prophet called her. I don’t think it was her real name.”
“What did she do that was so wrong?” Hannah asked.
“She wanted to run away.”
Hannah set aside her own spoon, a cold hollow in the pit of her stomach. “I thought anyone was free to leave here whenever he or she chose.”
“Most people are. But Freedom had a baby, and all children belong to the Prophet. So she could have left, but she would have had to leave her baby behind.”
“No mother would do that,” Hannah said.
Sophie shrugged. “I guess she wanted to leave badly enough that she did.”
Hannah stared at the girl for a moment, letting this information sink in. “Yo
u mean, she left the Family, and didn’t take her baby with her?”
Sophie ducked her head. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don’t tell Mom. I’ll get in trouble.”
“I won’t tell her, I promise.” Hannah covered the child’s hand with her own and lowered her voice to a whisper. “That’s why you have Vicki, isn’t it?” she asked. “She was Freedom’s baby.”
Sophie nodded. “Please don’t tell.”
Hannah squeezed her hand. “I won’t. I promise.” Freedom must have been Emily. Vicki—Victory—was Joy. And she belonged to Hannah now. Not Phoenix or the Prophet or anyone else.
* * *
WALT HALF EXPECTED to be met in the parking area outside the camp by Kiram and a crowd of angry Family members, but the lot was vacant, only the chattering of a scolding squirrel greeting him. He parked the bike, covered it with the branches he had cut earlier and crossed the bridge into camp. Jobie met him at the other side, a staff in one hand, a breakfast burrito in the other. “Hey,” he said by way of greeting. “You missed all the excitement with your wife and Kiram last night.”
Walt froze, one hand automatically reaching for the service weapon that wasn’t at his side. “What happened with Hannah and Kiram?” he asked, his mind racing. If that thug had hurt Hannah...
“She says he was manhandling her and she called him on it and made a big fuss in front of the Prophet and everyone.” He took a bite of his breakfast and chewed.
“Was he hurting her?” Walt asked. “And why?”
“He said she needed to be punished because the two of you were disobeying the Prophet’s orders.” He shrugged. “One of his jobs is to keep people in line, but he has a rep for taking things too far. A couple of other women have complained, but I guess the Prophet has let him get away with it until now. No way he could ignore the stink your wife was making last night, though.”
Good for Hannah, Walt thought. “What did the Prophet do?”
“He sent Serenity off to stay with Phoenix and told Kiram to leave her alone. There’s going to be a special council tonight to decide what your punishment should be for breaking the rules and leaving camp to go to the police.”
Let them try to lay a hand on him or Hannah and see how far they got. Walt started to push past Jobie. “Her name isn’t Serenity, it’s Hannah, and I need to see her.”
Jobie tried to block him and Walt raised his fist, as if to take a swing. Jobie took a step back. “Hey, chill, dude! I was just going to tell you it’s a good idea to play it cool. Kiram is still really ticked about being called out in front of the whole camp, so it would be smart to steer clear of him until tonight.”
What he wanted was to confront Kiram right now and maybe pound his face for laying a hand on Hannah, but doing so would be letting emotion take the lead instead of using common sense. “What happens at these council meetings?” he asked.
“The Prophet usually gives a talk, then each side gets to present their case, then the Prophet makes a ruling.” He shrugged. “He’ll probably just have everyone involved do some kind of community service like pick up trash or build a new shelter. It’s no big deal.”
“Where is Hannah now?”
“She’s eating breakfast with Phoenix and Sophie. She’s fine.”
“I still want to see her.” He started forward once more and this time Jobie stepped aside to let him pass.
Conversation stopped abruptly when Walt walked into the open-sided shed that served as the Family’s dining hall. Kiram looked up from his seat at the end of one of the long wooden picnic tables and glared at Walt, but remained silent. Everyone else stared, some openmouthed with avid curiosity, others avoiding his gaze, clearly fearful. Walt spotted Hannah, sitting next to a young girl, and started toward her. She rose to meet him and, without speaking, he took her arm and led her away from the shelter.
The murmur of conversation rose again behind them. Hannah gripped his arm. “How did it go?” she asked. “Are the Rangers on their way?”
“They’re sending a team out to investigate the grave, then they’ll want to question Metwater and others in the camp.”
“That won’t go over well,” she said, glancing back toward the tables. Kiram had moved from his seat and stood at the edge of the shelter, watching them.
“They need to explain why they lied about Lucia Raton having been in camp,” Walt said. “And why Metwater was so insistent I not report the grave to law enforcement.”
“Some of the people here feel the police are invading their privacy with all their questions.”
“It’s our job to invade people’s privacy, if that’s what it takes to solve a crime.”
“I know.” She patted his arm. “But I see their point, too. Not wanting the police here doesn’t make them guilty of anything.”
“Maybe not. But lying is almost always suspicious.” He smoothed his hand down her arm and she winced. “What’s wrong?” he asked, immediately tensed. “Are you hurt?”
“Just a little bruised where Kiram grabbed me.” She rubbed the arm. “He caught me walking back toward our tent after you left last night.”
“Jobie told me you called him out in front of a crowd and that Metwater ordered him to leave you alone.”
“Yes. Kiram says he was acting on Metwater’s authority, but I’m not so sure. I think he’s just a bully.” She glanced over her shoulder at the glowering young man. “I’m probably his least favorite person right now.”
“He’s my least favorite person, so that makes us even.” He glared at Kiram. The man was going to be trouble, but Walt would wait to deal with him. He turned back to Hannah. “You’re sure you’re all right?”
“Yes.” She took his arm and led him farther away from the crowd. “Better than all right,” she said. “Phoenix’s daughter, Sophie, admitted this morning that the baby isn’t her mother’s. She belonged to a Family member who called herself Freedom. I’m sure she means Emily.”
“How did Phoenix end up with the baby?”
“Sophie said the mother, Freedom, wanted to run away. The Prophet said she could leave, but she would have to leave her baby behind, because all children belong to him or some such nonsense.” She frowned. “Phoenix told me Metwater was the baby’s father, but I know that isn’t right. But apparently, he claims to be the father of all the children in the camp, whether he actually is or not.”
“So what happened when he told her she could leave but he would keep her baby?” Walt asked.
“Sophie said Freedom left anyway, and Phoenix was given the baby to care for. But I know Emily wouldn’t have left the baby behind. Not voluntarily.”
“It sounds as if Sophie doesn’t know Emily—if Freedom really is Emily—is dead,” Walt said. “Maybe she wasn’t told because she’s still a child.”
“Or maybe no one was told because Metwater didn’t want anyone to know about his involvement in her death. Emily died in Denver, when the Family was already living here on park land. It would have been easy enough to bring the baby back from Denver after Emily died and tell everyone the mother had abandoned her.”
“Maybe Emily left, intending to come back, and died before she could,” he said.
“Emily would never have abandoned her baby. Never.” Hannah’s voice shook and she sounded on the verge of tears.
Walt took her by the shoulders. “It’s okay,” he said. “Keep talking with Phoenix and Sophie and see what else you can learn. There’s still a chance the baby belongs to some other woman and not your sister.”
“Vicki is Emily’s baby, I know it.” She clutched his arm. “Why can’t we just take the baby and leave now? The DNA tests will prove I’m right.”
“We need to stay as long as we can and learn as much as we can,” he said. “We may never have a better opportunity to find out not just what happened to your sister,
but to Lucia Raton.”
She looked stubborn and Walt braced himself for her arguments. He was prepared to tell her that she could leave with the investigative team when they showed up to question Family members about Lucia, but that he needed to stay behind to gather more information. While Hannah had a court order granting her temporary custody of her sister’s child, they needed a positive identification of the baby before Hannah could take her. And as long as Daniel Metwater claimed to be the child’s father, and his name was on the birth certificate, he could fight Hannah in court to regain custody of the baby.
Hannah changed the subject. “There’s supposed to be some kind of meeting this evening to decide our fate,” she said. “I’m guessing after the cops descend on camp, everyone will vote to throw us out.”
“They might,” he said. “We’ll have to work hard to persuade them that we’re sincere.”
“Do you really think the grave you found belongs to that poor girl?”
“I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see.”
“I’ve never been very good at waiting,” she said. “I’ve always been the type to make a decision quickly and follow through.” She stared at the ground between their feet. “That hasn’t always worked out well for me.”
“I’m more deliberate, but that doesn’t mean the decisions I’ve made have always been the right ones,” he said.
“Serenity!”
They looked up to see Phoenix hurrying toward them, a worried expression on her face. “Is something wrong?” Hannah asked. “Is Vicki okay?”
“We’re fine.” She stopped in front of them, a little out of breath. Up close, Walt noted the fine lines at the corners of her eyes and the deep furrow between her eyes. Hannah was right—Phoenix did look closer to forty than thirty—older than the majority of Metwater’s followers. How had she ended up with the group? “You need to come with me now,” Phoenix said to Hannah. “I’m supposed to watch over you until the meeting tonight.”