Last Writes

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Last Writes Page 11

by Lowe, Sheila


  “Well, yeah. That’s what I came here for, isn’t it? To learn.” Kelly had softened her usual smart-ass attitude for Stedman’s benefit. It felt a little weird to see her act meek and chastened.

  Stedman said, “As you wish, Sister Rose. You can leave those papers for me on my desk. See you tomorrow at breakfast. Let’s go, Sister Brennan.”

  With no phone, no television, no e-mail, the evening dragged. Claudia had cleared out the trunk of her car just before the trip to the Ark, leaving nothing in case they were spied on. Even an old magazine to reread would have been better than this. There was a Bible on the nightstand and she flipped through it, finding long-forgotten passages: Matthew 19:14, where Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.”

  Did Harold Stedman see himself as a latter-day Jesus Christ, calling the children to him? The Temple of Brighter Light members seemed content to accept what he said without question. Or was the truth simply that when they did not comply they were excommunicated, as he had suggested?

  She got up and went to the window. Below, the grounds were quiet and still. She knew that the church building where the congregation had gathered for Bible study was at least a half mile away in the far reaches of the compound. As far as she knew, she was alone in the Victorian, a house where there were no locks on the doors. For a fleeting moment she regretted staying behind. Even Kelly, whose view of religion approached Marxism, had gone to the church.

  Out of sheer boredom Claudia went to bed early. She slept fitfully, awaking during the night—half the times, kicking off the sheet when the air felt hot and cloying; the other half, dragging it back over her when it was too cool. Even when she managed to sleep, her mind continued to work overtime on the puzzle of how to get information about Rodney Powers and where he might have taken his little daughter. When she awoke at dawn, she felt more tired than when she had gone to bed.

  After breakfast she managed to connect with Kelly for a couple of minutes. Kelly immediately began grousing that she’d received a work assignment. “They’ve got me peeling potatoes! It’s supposed to make me show humility. I’m a goddamned attorney, not the freaking kitchen help.”

  Claudia couldn’t help being glad that her own assignment would keep her in the office. “Sucks to be you, doesn’t it?” she said unsympathetically.

  “How the hell am I supposed to find out anything, stuck in the kitchen all morning? They’re sending me to a class this afternoon.”

  “You don’t know, Kel, maybe you’ll end up working right next to someone who drops some perfect pearls of knowledge on you.”

  “They’d better hand me the keys to the friggin’ kingdom,” said Kelly, shooting a false smile at a group of members who walked past.

  “I’ve been racking my brains to find ways to wrench Rodney into the conversation without directly mentioning him,” said Claudia.

  “Oh yeah? How’s that working out for you?”

  “All I’ve learned is that they’re planning this big bash in Kylie’s honor on Saturday. They won’t say anything about where she’s going. How are you doing with James Miller?”

  “He’s hot for me, but it’s gonna take some work to get his guard down.”

  “As long you don’t get his pants down, too.”

  Kelly tried to suppress a giggle. “Claudia! You’ve shocked me to my depths.”

  “I’m not too worried; your depths are pretty shallow.”

  The kitchen supervisor hurried over then and escorted Kelly away to begin her morning duties. Claudia watched her go, not sure whether to be amused or annoyed at the way Kelly’s time was being monopolized. She went off to her own assignment, cheered by the fact that Harold Stedman had not attempted to set a schedule for her.

  At dinner, Kelly looked worn out, with dark circles bruising the fair skin below her eyes. She was unusually silent and subdued. Peeling potatoes and the classes she was attending had taken their toll. She had to be worrying about her niece, too.

  That makes two of us.

  The day ended without any significant progress, and Claudia climbed into bed feeling frustrated and discouraged.

  Wednesday started as a rerun of Tuesday.

  At lunch, Kelly sat at one end of the room, Claudia the other. In an effort to meet as many members as possible, they had once again switched to tables where they had not sat before.

  Dan Treadwell was the table captain where Claudia found herself a seat. His name sounded familiar, but she was unable to place it. She would have remembered this large man if she had seen him before. The puffy red cheeks and spider veins that created a map on his nose made her wonder whether overexposure to the sun or alcohol was the culprit. Members were supposed to be moderate in their use of alcohol, but who knew? As preoccupied as he was with his food, Treadwell did not look like someone who would be drawn to outdoor exercise.

  His wife, Deborah, was fully engaged with attempting to keep their three young sons in line. Throughout the meal, the preteen boys teased and tormented each other without letup until Claudia was ready to knock their heads together. She could see that the other diners at their table, a young couple, were unhappy with their behavior, too, but they said nothing to complain. Dan Treadwell’s failure to help his wife with her ineffectual efforts to control their children was as irritating as it was puzzling.

  “What’s your job here at the Ark, Dan?” Claudia asked, more to distract herself from his sons than a burning desire to know. He glanced up from the chicken drumstick he was gnawing on and swiped his napkin across his mouth.

  “Accountant,” he mumbled around a mouthful. “And at the moment, acting purchasing agent, too.”

  When he said that, the penny dropped and she knew where she had heard his name before. “Oh, Mr. Stedman mentioned you’re taking over for Rodney Powers. I’ve been using his office while he’s out of town.”

  Treadwell’s owlish eyes grew even larger behind the thick lenses of his glasses. “So, that was you. I heard someone was in there, doing something for Brother Stedman.”

  “Yes, that’s me.” Claudia could see that he was dying to ask something more, perhaps what she was doing in Rodney’s office. But he was either too polite or he knew better than to ask, and she wasn’t about to enlighten him. “I understand Mr. Powers and his family are spending some time in the mountains,” she prompted.

  “Mm, yes, we have a cabin near Big Bear that they’re using.”

  She waited, but when Treadwell seemed disinclined to say anything further, Claudia turned to the young couple, whom she guessed from the way they continually touched each other to be newlyweds. “A cabin in the mountains; sounds like a great getaway. When do you get to go to Big Bear?”

  The woman shook her head. “The cabin is kept for special times. The Powerses are there for prayer and meditation with their daughter. She’s going to be—”

  Her husband broke in. “Laurie, sweetheart, I don’t think—” He gave Claudia that apologetic glance that she had become familiar with when she asked certain questions at the Ark. “Sister Rose isn’t . . .” He trailed off awkwardly.

  “I know,” said Claudia, exasperated. “It’s not something you discuss with outsiders.”

  She grabbed Kelly on the way out of the dining hall. “Conversations with people here are damned annoying! Every time someone’s on the verge of saying something that might be important, they get cut off. Have you had any more luck?”

  “James is coming around, if you’ll forgive the pun.”

  “Kelly—”

  “Don’t nag me, Claudia. I’ll do whatever it takes. We’ve still got tomorrow at least.”

  “Not ‘at least.’ We’re leaving here on Friday. I’ve had enough of this place. If it weren’t for my lecture at the university tomorrow night—”

  “James asked if I would be going with you. How did he know about your lecture? Did you tell him?”

  “No, I haven’t even met him face-to
-face yet. Rita must have told him. She seems to be in the office all the time; I bet she hears everything that goes on.”

  “A place like this, there’s probably no secrets. Everyone knows everything.” Kelly pulled a tissue from her pocket and dabbed her forehead. “Kylie’s birthday is Saturday. Obviously, Rodney will have to bring her back here before then. If we haven’t found him before that, we should hang around. We can watch for him, grab her, and run.”

  “So, now you want us to kidnap her? I hate to remind you, but that’s a felony. You would be disbarred.”

  Kelly’s face fell. “I know. But we’ve got to stop him.”

  “What we have to do is find out where he is and take Erin there. It’s up to her after that.”

  Stedman had Rita deliver a new envelope with four more handwritings for Claudia to analyze. Finding nothing of consequence in the samples, she typed up her notes and returned the envelope.

  By midmorning, in need of a break, she took a walk, deciding to look for Oka Diehl again. Since the elderly woman’s remark the day before, expressing disapproval of sending babies to a nunnery, Claudia had been hoping to get her alone, positive that Oka would be willing to talk.

  But Oka was not in evidence, and when Claudia asked a woman she met on the path where she might be found, she got the answer that Sister Diehl suffered from emphysema and would be at the infirmary for her breathing treatment.

  The rest of the day seemed interminable. In the afternoon, she stretched out on the narrow bed, half-dozing. Images of little Kylie on a ceremonial altar, frightened, unaware that she was facing separation from everyone she knew and loved, kept jolting Claudia back to full consciousness and renewed her commitment to finding the child.

  Chapter 10

  By the time Thursday rolled around, the days had acquired a rhythm of their own. Harold Stedman provided another batch of handwriting samples and Claudia spent most of the morning examining them and writing up her notes. Her findings after the first samples she had examined were unremarkable.

  She had begun to feel some real concern over Kelly, whose attitude this morning seemed far less driven to find Kylie than it had been. When they met briefly after breakfast, Kelly had chattered on with enthusiasm about how interesting the classes were, and how much she was learning about the TBL teachings. She added almost as an afterthought that James was softening up, so maybe there would be progress at last.

  Claudia was developing a restless desire to leave the Ark. She continued to replay in her mind every conversation she’d had, every handwriting sample she had examined, looking for some clue to Rodney’s whereabouts—anything that might help them reach their objective.

  It was such a small community that she was afraid if she continued to ask the same questions of too many members, it would get around and arouse suspicion. Her dissatisfaction with their failure to make any real progress was keen. But ultimately, fed up with feeling thwarted at every turn and with little expectation of getting a helpful answer, Claudia decided to seek out Oka Diehl again.

  Thunderclouds had formed over the foothills, leaving the air sticky with humidity. As Claudia opened the back door of the Victorian, the damp hit her like a wall. Within seconds, her hair was clinging to her neck, as wet as if she had just stepped out of the shower.

  Taking the footpath, she kept an eye out for someone who might tell her where the Diehls lived. After reaching the cluster of outbuildings without encountering anyone, she entered the first open door she came to and found herself in an old-time general store filled with the aroma of fresh-baked goods.

  Her granny Arlene had taken her into such a store as a child. There was even the same potbellied cast iron stove in one corner. Not for the first time, it felt like she had stepped back in time. Nostalgia assaulted her as she made her way through shelves of paper goods and sundries, coming to an old wooden counter, behind which a man with flowing white hair sat reading a magazine.

  He stood at her approach and laid the magazine on the counter. A surreptitious glance at the magazine gave Claudia the title: Increasing Light. The TBL magazine.

  “Good morning, sister,” the man said in a friendly manner. “I do believe you’re one of our visitors. I’ve seen you in the dining hall, but we haven’t gotten close enough to speak. I’m Brother Treadwell.”

  At her look of confusion, his face split into a grin. “Don’t worry, you’re not crazy. I think you must have met my son, Dan Jr.”

  “Oh, yes. I sat at his table. So you’ve got three generations of Treadwells here?”

  “We do. Did young Dan’s kids drive you nuts?”

  “Well, they were a little—shall we say, obstreperous?”

  “They’re spoiled brats is what they are. I don’t know why he doesn’t discipline them. He certainly didn’t get away with that kind of nonsense when he was their age.” He rubbed his hands together briskly. “Now, enough of that. What can I get for you today, missy?”

  “I was hoping to stop in to see Mrs. Diehl. I’d heard she wasn’t feeling well, but I don’t know where she lives. I thought maybe you could tell me.”

  Treadwell’s face became grave. “Yes, Sister Diehl isn’t at all well. But I believe she’s at home. You’ll find her in Emmanuel. It’s number six in the second row of adobes just past the dining hall. She’s got a lot of cactus out front. Look for the garden gnomes, you can’t miss it.”

  “Thank you. I’d like to take her a small gift. Do you have any idea what she might like?”

  He pointed to a plate of cookies covered by a glass dome, the origin of the wonderful aroma she had noticed upon entering. “She’s got a real sweet tooth, Oka does. Take her a couple of ginger biscuits, she’ll be your friend forever.”

  “That sounds good. I’ll take a half dozen.” Claudia took her change purse from her pocket and asked how much she owed him.

  Dan Treadwell Sr. shook his head. “We don’t exchange money here. Our needs are all cared for at the Ark, spiritual and material. But if you feel so moved, you’re welcome to make a contribution in the box at the church. You’ll find it right by the back door.”

  “I’ll do that,” Claudia said with a smile as he carefully set out the cookies in a small box. “I’ve never been in a store where I wasn’t allowed to pay.”

  “That’s all right. You give Sister Diehl my well wishes, now.”

  Treadwell Sr. hadn’t been joking about the Diehl house. Foot-high gnomes, and bunnies, frogs, puppies and kittens galore had turned their garden into a ceramic barn-yard. A variety of potted succulents surrounded the place.

  Oka Diehl herself came to the door, pushing a walker with a portable oxygen tank attached. The nasal cannula prongs were in her nose, the tubing hooked around her ears.

  “What took you so long?” she wheezed, already turning and shuffling back into the room.

  Claudia followed her inside, wondering whether the old woman had mixed her up with someone else. She need not have been concerned. Oka sank into a well-worn recliner and waved at her to take a seat on the couch. “Figured you’d get here eventually.” She had to pause for breath every couple of words. “Sit on the couch. What’s that you’ve got there?”

  Claudia offered her the box. “Ginger biscuits. I heard you like them.”

  “Yes, I do. Well, thanks a bunch. Put them on the coffee table. I’ll have them after lunch.”

  Claudia did as she was bid. “I’m a little confused. How did you know—”

  “You were asking about the Powers child. You wanted to know about where she’s going.”

  “Just idle curiosity. I’d heard about the party and—”

  “Hah! I think not.”

  Claudia found herself grinning at the woman with the bright, intelligent eyes. She looked like one of the gnomes in her garden. “You’re very perceptive, Mrs. Diehl.”

  “Call me Oka.” She coughed appallingly for several seconds, holding a handkerchief over her mouth, spitting into it.

  “Can I get you anything?” Clau
dia asked. “A glass of water? Medicine?”

  “No, no, don’t fuss. I’m a dying old woman, nothing to get in an uproar over. I’ll just keel over one of these days.”

  “That’s a pretty philosophical way to look at it.”

  “Young lady, I’ve been waiting for more than sixty years for the end of the world to come, and now I can see that my end is probably going to come first.” She sighed. “It’s all right. I’m tired; I’m ready to go. I’ll just have to see them all on the other side when they get there. But that isn’t what you came here for. You want to know about the temple.”

  “The temple?”

  “That’s where the Jephthah’s Daughters stay. Why do you want to know about it?”

  Claudia hesitated, wondering whether she should answer truthfully. She decided on a partial truth. “I’m concerned for the well-being of the children there.”

  Oka peered at her through narrowed eyes. “There’s more to it, I can see, but never mind. They don’t think I know, but I hear things. George used to be on the governing board and they still come to him for advice, even after he retired and stepped aside.” She paused. “There’s something going on and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.”

  Their eyes met and Claudia saw an intensity in Oka Diehl’s that startled her. “What is it that’s upset you, Oka?”

  “The preparations they’re making this time are for something different. Harold keeps going on about this child being the Chosen One, and I’m worried. I think he’s got some crazy bee in his bonnet.” She was breathing heavily, sucking the oxygen greedily through her nose.

  Claudia was beginning to wonder whether she should call someone to help the old woman. “What do you think he’s going to do?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll tell you this: George usually has to sign off on purchase orders for supplies. He has me review them. Still got good eyes, though everything else is going to the dogs. I used to be a copy editor for our publications back in the day. Always got to read the magazines before—”

 

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