Synopsis
Jamie Bradford, the hero of Pursued, is now the pursuer when he receives a mysterious package containing a class ring from his alma mater, Stratburgh University. Wrapped inside the ring is the address to a Rhodes Petroleum corporate office in Boston and the name of an ultra-conservative religious cult based in the Adirondack Mountains. To solve the mystery, Jamie and his husband, Eddie Delgado, infiltrate the cult and discover a paramilitary-style inner circle hell-bent on making the cult’s beliefs everyone’s beliefs. When their best friend, Ellen Rhodes, ferrets out the Boston connection, the three end up on a perilous mission to save the cult's archenemy, a group of religious fundamentalists whose views regarding homosexuality are just as archaic as the cult's.
Deadly Cult
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Deadly Cult
© 2013 By Joel Gomez-Dossi. All Rights Reserved.
ISBN 13: 978-1-60282-934-3
This Electronic Book is published by
Bold Strokes Books, Inc.
P.O. Box 249
Valley Falls, New York 12185
First Edition: August 2013
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced in any form without permission.
Credits
Editor: Greg Herren and Stacia Seaman
Production Design: Stacia Seaman
Cover Design By Sheri ([email protected])
By the Author
Pursued
Deadly Cult
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to the staff and authors at Bold Strokes Books, publisher Len Barot, editor Greg Herren, and my husband.
Deadly Cult is dedicated to the religious and spiritual organizations that value critical thinking and open discourse.
Chapter One
Zacchaeus scanned the room to make sure he was alone. He took a small package from his pocket and meticulously tied it with hemp string. He attached a card with the name and address of the recipients written carefully on it. He put the bundle in his pocket and carried it through the compound to the Disciples’ quarters.
Luckily, no one saw him walking into Raamiah’s room. He bowed before the occupant, a fat and contentious-looking man who lived up to the meaning of his name: evil from the Lord.
“Please, Disciple, will you deliver this for me?” He held the package in front of him with trembling hands.
Raamiah took the parcel and examined it carefully. He grinned, exposing a row of brown teeth. “What’ll ya give me for this favor?”
Zacchaeus didn’t dare look at Raamiah any longer than necessary, and shifted his gaze to the ground. “Whatever you desire, Disciple.”
“You’re going to spoil me, my dear little man.”
Zacchaeus untied the drawstring to Raamiah’s trousers and sensed the man’s grin turning into a full smile. He had to tug at the pants until they fell to the ground, exposing the sin underneath. He took the sin in his hands. It was a gnarly-looking thing. Ugly. But Zacchaeus was fulfilling his lot in life and refused to think about it. He only thought about the desperate need to get the package to Eddie Delgado, Ellen Rhodes, and Jamie Bradford.
Chapter Two
Lazarus Saturday
A tray filled with dirty dishes crashed to the ground while a jazzed-up version of “Easter Bonnet” wafted through the sound system. Silverware scattered and china broke into hundreds of pieces. Debris flew everywhere. About a dozen diners looked up, shocked that the serenity of Le Chateau, New York’s world-class bistro, had been shattered.
“Shit.” Jamie looked around to see who had run into him, causing the mishap, but the person had disappeared. Jamie dropped to his knees and began cleaning before the floor manager could make a big deal out of the accident.
It was too late. “Monsieur Bradford,” the manager bellowed across the room. A millisecond later, he was hovering over Jamie.
“Pierre, I’m sorry. But I can explain…” Jamie’s voice was barely above a whisper.
“Bradford, how many times has this happened?”
The question seemed to come out of nowhere. Jamie was shocked. “Sir, it’s never happened before.”
Pierre arched his eyebrows and flared his nostrils. “Well, you’re wrong. This has to be the third time this month alone.”
“No. I’ve never had an accident before.” Jamie wondered if Pierre was mistaking him for the busboy he fired last week. Or the one he dismissed three weeks before that. But with all of Pierre’s ranting, Jamie decided this wasn’t the best time to enter a conversation. “Perhaps I can explain everything after the shift.”
“No, you can’t. You won’t be around when the shift ends, because after you finish picking up this mess, you’re going to punch out of work and leave. For good.”
“I’m fired?”
“Yes, you’re fired. I can’t say it any clearer than that.” Pierre huffed off, spouting French curses under his breath.
Jamie figured something like this would happen eventually. Pierre hated his guts and nothing Jamie could say would change his mind. Besides, I’m a complete failure, even at bussing tables.
To make matters worse, Jamie’s husband, Eddie Delgado, was making professional leaps. He was the sous chef at Le Chateau and had even gotten Jamie his job. “It’s just temporary, until you find your direction,” he told him at the time. But Jamie still didn’t have any plans for the future.
He clocked out and waited in the alley for Eddie to finish his shift. Several hours later, Eddie finally exited the back door. He straightened his posture and brushed the accumulated food off his checkered baggies.
“Your leg’s bothering you, isn’t it?” Jamie asked, sliding off the Dumpster and giving him a kiss.
“Don’t be silly. I’m tired, that’s all.” Eddie climbed into Jamie’s place and patted the empty space by his side. Jamie got back on the garbage bin and they sat for a moment, looking down the alley and into the crowded street. “I heard about what happened,” Eddie said. “Pierre’s a jerk, so don’t let this bother you.”
“But I’ve never had an accident before.”
“I know. But trust me, it’s not worth the trouble arguing with him. Besides, you’ll get another job in no time.”
“You think?”
Eddie nodded and gave him a tender kiss. At that moment, Pierre sashayed into the alley with two women by his side. He broke free from his entourage and walked up to Jamie. “Monsieur Bradford, I’m disappointed that you cannot understand why I terminated your employment. I thought you were more erudite than that. But c’est la vie, opportunities for someone with your looks and charm should come quickly. Who knows? You might get hired to carry some guy’s luggage.”
Pierre turned up his nose and snapped for his retinue. He weaved down the alley with them by his side.
Jamie’s body tensed, but Eddie held his hand tightly. It kept him from doing anything foolish. When Pierre was down the street, Jamie said under his breath, “I ought to sue this fucking restaurant for sexual harassment.”
“It’s all right. We’ll get by.”
“But we need the money.”
“I make enough for us to survive.”
Eddie was right. He was bringing in a fair salary and working for one of the biggest names in the in
dustry, Chef Bardot. Unfortunately, Bardot was also one of the biggest sleazebags in the industry. Jamie changed the subject. “I just wish we could afford to visit our families for the holiday, and now you even have to work Easter brunch.”
“Jamie, your mom wanted to visit us for Easter, but you said no.”
“Well, it wouldn’t be right, especially when your family can’t get a visa to come up from Mexico.”
“Okay,” Eddie said. “I understand.” He took Jamie’s hand.
“I don’t want to hold your hand,” Jamie said with a seductive smile. “I’d much rather hold something else.” He grabbed Eddie.
“Stop it. You’ll make me hard.”
“That was the intention.” Jamie ceased his antics, and they strolled to the street in a lovers’ embrace. In the city—the Village, to be precise—nobody looked twice at a gay couple engaging in public displays of affection. Practically passé de mode. Totally yesterday’s trend.
En route to their fourth-story, two-and-a-half-room flat, they came across a guy on the street hawking stuffed animals in colorful baskets. “Cuddly Peter Cottontails, only ten bucks! All proceeds go to Easter Seals!” he barked.
Eddie reached into his pocket, pulled out a twenty, and bought two pink-colored synthetic bunnies. The “Made in China” tags were in plain view.
Jamie was aghast. “How could you do that?”
“Do what?”
He turned even sterner. “Give money to just anybody on the street! Especially now that I’m out of work.”
“The guy isn’t just anybody. He’s from Easter Seals, for heaven’s sake.”
“And do you really believe that? And do you really think he’s going to give that money to them?”
Eddie thought for a moment. “For the love of God, Jamie. Why wouldn’t he?”
“To keep the money for himself!”
Exasperated, Jamie started walking away and heard Eddie yell, “Jamie Bradford, you are too cynical.”
Jamie spun around. Eddie was struggling to catch up with him, and Jamie felt sorry for yelling. They walked the rest of the way hand in hand. At their apartment building, Eddie walked up the steps by grasping the banister. His leg must have hurt like hell, but as usual, he didn’t say anything.
That stupid Mexican machismo thing, Jamie thought.
Inside the apartment, Eddie carefully set the stuffed animals on the table. He looked exhausted as he crawled on top of the pull-down bed. He didn’t bother undressing. He just closed his eyes and fell asleep.
Jamie took a moment to admire Eddie’s sweet face and strong physique. The post-adolescent body he had two years ago had morphed into a handsome young man. Muscular, too.
Jamie quietly took off Eddie’s food-stained tennis shoes and dropped them onto the floor. He carefully unbuttoned his checkered baggies, pulling them off the legs before starting to tackle the white socks. Jamie smelled the scent of food emanating from Eddie’s body, but he didn’t mind. He’d gotten used to it over the past year and kind of liked it.
He lay next to his sleeping husband and lightly caressed the old wound on Eddie’s leg. He’d gotten injured helping Jamie escape a murderer, but he’d never say a word about it. Barely twenty-three years old, he was too much of a man to brag about it.
Why can’t I be that way? Jamie couldn’t answer his own question. Instead, he continued to play with the soft, dark hair around Eddie’s scar and gently leaned over to kiss it. Eddie’s caramel-colored legs stirred something within Jamie, and he began giving Eddie’s body light kisses.
Eddie moaned.
“Te gusta?” Jamie asked when he reached the Jockey shorts.
“Sí. Me gusta,” Eddie replied.
That’s all Jamie wanted to hear, and he started crying. His pent-up frustrations flowed out. Anger at not being accepted into law school and the embarrassment of having to admit he didn’t quite have it all together. He was still good-looking, but he wasn’t the intellectual giant he wanted to be.
Eddie put his arms around him and hugged him tightly. “None of that matters. You’re kind and caring. That’s enough for me.”
“Well, maybe that isn’t enough for me. You’re a success, so you can’t understand how I feel.” Jamie saw the hurt well up in Eddie’s eyes. “That’s not what I meant. I don’t know what I mean or how I feel, except I’m not happy. Certainly not being a busboy.”
“Well, you’re not a busboy anymore,” Eddie said, a smile on his face. “Pierre gave you an opportunity.”
“What opportunity?”
“A shot at discovering what you want to do with your life. Your calling.”
“You sound like a Jehovah’s Witness.”
“Bitch,” Eddie said.
Jamie gave him a devilish look. “Well, if I’m a bitch, I’m in heat because I’m horny as hell.” Jamie dug a finger into the waistband of Eddie’s Jockeys.
Eddie rose to the occasion. He must not have been that tired after all.
Chapter Three
Palm Sunday
The next morning, Jamie woke up horny. The sight of Eddie in the kitchenette wearing a ripped T-shirt got him aroused. He struck a sexy pose and asked, “What’s my cute little hombre doing?”
“Cracking huevos.” Eddie didn’t even look at him.
Jamie wouldn’t give up. He struck another pose. “I beg your pardon?”
Eddie turned around, stared at his provocative stance, and flatly replied, “The chicken kind of eggs.”
Since Eddie wasn’t in the mood for playing around, Jamie decided to get dressed. He went to a pile of clothes in the corner. After picking out his favorite Loud and Proud T-shirt, he checked the underarms for body odor. Satisfied, he started pulling it over his head, but stopped when he heard Eddie ask, “Can you slice the avocados for me?”
He froze, like a worried kid hiding his head in a T-shirt. “You know I always mess up cutting the avocados.”
“No, you don’t. But if you’re worried, we can always make a fancy salsa out of it.”
“If you wanted guacamole, Señor Smarty Pants, why didn’t you ask for it? That I can do.” He pulled the T-shirt down and his hair stood up, filled with static electricity.
“But we have to hurry. Ellen’s going to be here any second.”
“It’s that late?” Jamie grabbed a knife and started cutting. He and Eddie had a standing appointment for brunch with Ellen every Sunday for the past year.
She made them promise they’d never miss a week. And they all agreed. It seemed the best way to continue being friends as they went on with their lives after graduating.
“Fuck,” Jamie yelled when chunks of avocado fell to the floor. He grabbed a broom and started sweeping.
Eddie slid the mortar and pestle across the counter. “Why don’t you start mashing?”
Before Jamie could think of a comeback, the security buzzer rang. He patted down his hair and ran to the door.
“Hurry and let me in,” Ellen commanded playfully from the intercom. “I brought the bubbly.”
Jamie buzzed the door unlocked and it only took a moment until she appeared at their doorway, breathless.
“Can’t you guys afford a place with an elevator?”
“In the Village?” Jamie asked. “You’ve gotta be joking.”
“Only halfway,” she said, putting the champagne in the refrigerator. “But you’re never gonna believe what I’ve got to tell you. I was doing my first-year observation rounds at the emergency room, and this guy came in overdosing on sildenafil.”
“English, please?” Jamie asked.
“Sildenafil is the generic name for Viagra. This guy had an erection for over six hours!”
“So? In high school I had a constant erection. Especially in the showers at gym class.”
“That’s not the funny part, sweetcakes. The guy had a twelve-inch dick. Imagine the strain of keeping that thing up!”
“Twelve inches,” Jamie exclaimed. “Christ, that’s not a dick. That’s a foot!�
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When their laughter died down, Eddie asked, “So, how’s your viral load?”
Jamie’s stomach jumped into his throat. He always tried to stay clear of the subject when talking with Ellen. And Eddie mentioned it as casually as the weather. “Eddie, that’s not something you ask.”
“It’s all right,” Ellen said. “At the last testing, my viral load was almost undetectable.”
“What does that mean?” Jamie asked.
“It means I’m doing good.”
“Then you’re not positive anymore?”
“I said almost undetectable.”
He slammed his fist on the counter. “I’m so sorry.”
“There’s no reason to feel guilty. You didn’t give me this disease.”
“But you wouldn’t have gotten it, except for me.”
“Jamie, that’s enough.” Eddie barely raised his voice, but Jamie got the message and quieted down. “Ellen, you’ve got to excuse Jamie. He got fired from the restaurant last night.”
“Oh, sweetcakes.” Ellen put her arms around him, just like she had back at Stratburgh. Eddie made it a threesome and something started vibrating.
“Since I’m sure I’m not arousing either one of you,” Ellen said, “someone’s cell phone must be ringing.”
Eddie took out the offending accessory and talked in Spanish, a mile a minute. The only thing Jamie understood was Eddie’s nods and an occasional sí.
When Eddie swiped the phone off, he said, “That was Tito at the restaurant. The strangest thing just happened. A package was delivered.”
Jamie didn’t understand what the big deal was. “What’s so strange about that?”
“Well, it wasn’t in a box. It’s wrapped into a bundle with a piece of cloth.”
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