“Well, I talked with the operations manager just this morning. He said Mr. Rhodes wasn’t expecting any visitors today.”
Ellen shrugged. “As I said, I came here to surprise him. Look, call Marianne, my father’s executive secretary. She’ll vouch for me.”
He gave her another hard look, and her gnawing feeling grew stronger. He said, “I’m afraid Mr. Rhodes’s staff isn’t available at this time.”
“Well, I have more IDs, if you need them.” Ellen started searching her backpack, digging through clothes and meds.
Then a light flashed at the security guard’s desk. At the side of the lobby, an unmarked door opened and two dark-suited men came through. They had the same CIA intercom pieces stuck in their ears as Johnston did.
The men stopped in unison and the two businesspeople waiting in the lobby walked over to them. The four stood at attention and Ellen realized they were part of a security patrol.
Johnston looked around nervously and yelled into his Bluetooth. “Code red. Repeat, code red.” The security patrol put their hands at their hips, in a battlelike stance, revealing their handguns. Ellen quickly surveyed the area to figure out what was happening. She didn’t see much. Only a distinguished-looking gentleman coming through the door.
Johnston said “shit,” and tried to grab Ellen’s backpack from her, but she held on to it tightly. Straining her neck, she tried to get a better look at the man everyone was so excited about. He wore a topcoat and hat with a few wisps of white hair exposed.
She immediately recognized the gentleman and yelled, “Daddy.”
The security patrol barricaded Ellen’s father and escorted him back through the door. Johnston, meanwhile, gave Ellen’s arm a karate chop. She dropped the backpack and he picked it up, tossing it to the rent-a-cop. He pulled her arms behind her back and cuffed her in one swift move.
Then he escorted her down another set of stairs and pushed her through a long hallway, then into a corner of a fallout shelter. She landed with a terrible crash.
Johnston yelled, “Just who are you really?”
Between the gasps, she said, “I told you. I’m Ellen Rhodes. Elden Rhodes’s daughter.”
“Yeah. And I’m the Prince of Persia.”
She wasn’t going to let him get the better of her. “Good to meet you, your highness.”
He backed up a couple of steps and swung his leg backward to kick her. She recoiled in fear.
The doors to the shelter opened and the words “What the hell is going on here?” flew from the entrance. It came from Ellen’s father.
Everyone froze and looked over at him.
Ellen cried, “Daddy!” He ran to her side and she hugged him without reserve.
“Sweet Pea! Are you hurt?” Usually Ellen hated it when he called her Sweet Pea, but not today. Right now, she was happy to hear anything from him.
“Mr. Rhodes.” Johnston took several steps back and got out the key to the restraints. Her father grabbed them from his hands and unlocked the cuffs himself. “Ellen, you showed them your license when they asked for it, didn’t you?”
“Of course, Daddy.”
Johnston interrupted, “Sir, in our defense, IDs can be forged.”
“An official state license with a holographic image? Did you even look at it?”
“The officer at the desk did, sir.”
“But that’s not you, is it?”
Johnston looked him square in the eyes. “I was just following protocol.”
“I don’t care. Tell your superiors at Tactical Protective Services that I’m ending my contract with them. I can get better security from the guards at a zoo. I want you and your detail to pack up and leave.”
“You know, sir, it will take months for you to contract another security unit.”
“You heard me. Get out of here.”
And that was that. Everyone left, and Ellen was with her father, for the first time in a very long time.
“Daddy, was that a wise thing to do? Don’t you need your security?”
“Yes, and we’ll contract a new vendor in good time. But right now my priority is to be with you.”
She nearly hyperventilated with happiness, until her father said, “And we’ll be together right after my meeting. You understand, don’t you, Sweet Pea?”
She said, “Of course, Daddy.”
Chapter Eight
By the time Jamie and Eddie reached the Adirondacks, the sleet had morphed into flurries, making travel even slower. Eddie pulled into a decrepit gas station. He filled the tank while Jamie went inside to ask for directions.
An old man sat by the cash register, reading a copy of The Penny Saver. Jamie handed him a couple of twenties for the gas. The man pocketed it without looking away from his paper.
“Excuse me,” Jamie said. “I’m looking for a church around here. They go by the name of the Brethren. Heard of them?”
“Yeah, I heard of ’em.” The man chortled. His cigarette didn’t move, like it was stuck to his lower lip. The cigarette’s long ash dangled at the end, like it was stuck there by magic.
“I was wondering if you could give me directions.”
“Yeah, if I felt like it.” The man held out his hand, rubbing his index and middle fingers with his thumb.
So it’s going to be that way, Jamie thought. He dug into his pocket and handed the man a twenty. “Will this motivate you?”
“It might.” The attendant pocketed the twenty and tore off a page from his Penny Saver. He licked the point of a stubby pencil without disturbing the cigarette and began drawing a map on the paper. When he finished, he pushed it to the edge of the counter.
“Thanks.” Jamie looked at it, then handed it back. “But could you put the names of the roads on it, too?”
“Nope. Can’t do that,” the man said.
“Why not?
“’Cause there ain’t no names. Just roads.” He stuffed the map into Jamie’s pocket.
“Ah, I understand.” Jamie gave the man another twenty.
“Thank you for your generosity,” he said, taking the money. “But there still ain’t no names.”
“Well, since that’s the case.” Jamie snatched back the bill.
“Okay, okay. I’ll see what I can do.” The attendant took the money and gently tugged the map out of Jamie’s pocket. The ash on his cigarette still hung on.
Jamie watched as the man drew pictures and symbols describing the roads. “But you’ll never be able to travel on most of them,” he said. “Not with that jalopy of yours. It’ll be too rough and rocky. Or muddy.” He finished his artwork and held it up.
“I appreciate the warning,” Jamie said.
“Well, if you get stuck, give me a call. I got a tow truck. Real reasonable rates.” The ash on his cigarette finally fell off, landing on his shirt.
Jamie walked outside and Eddie was waiting for him. “Did you get directions?” Eddie asked when he got into car.
“Yeah, if it’ll do any good.”
Jamie pointed north and Eddie put the rental into gear.
*
Surprisingly, the attendant’s directions were pretty accurate. So was his description of the roads. They were rutted and muddy.
Halfway there, they got stuck and couldn’t budge the car an inch. “So, what do we do now?” Eddie asked. “Call that guy and get a tow?”
“Not on your life,” Jamie said. “We start walking.”
“And leave the car here? The police will come by and tow it.”
“Eddie, look at this road. Nobody uses it. It’ll be months before anyone finds this car.”
“Unless someone from the Brethren comes by.”
“We’ll camouflage it, then. It’ll be safe.”
“You sure?”
“Almost positive.”
“Just almost?”
Jamie smiled and said, “Okay. I’m absolutely almost positive.”
They got out of the car and scavenged around until they had enough greenery to
cover it. When they finished, Jamie said, “Just one more thing to do.” He took out his driver’s license and put it into an envelope.
“Why are you doing that?” Eddie asked.
“When we get inside the Brethren and somebody there sees our licenses, they’ll know we live together. They won’t believe we’re just roommates. They may be conservative, but they’re not dumb.” He held the envelope in front of Eddie.
“I guess you’re right.” Eddie took the envelope and stuck in his license, too. Just as he was about to seal the flap, Jamie stopped him.
“We forgot one thing.” He took off his wedding ring and put it into the envelope.
“Our rings?”
Jamie gave him a kiss. “Sweetie, forgive me, but we have to.” He knew it wouldn’t be worthy recompense if they lost their wedding bands, but he was afraid they’d lose much more if the Brethren figured out their relationship.
Eddie reluctantly took off his ring and put it in the envelope. “I suppose this means we’ll have to go back into the closet.”
“Yeah,” Jamie said. He was apprehensive because he knew acting straight would be hard. He took the envelope anyway and placed it into the glove box. “Are you ready to go on another adventure, my secret husband?”
Eddie grinned and said, “Sí.”
They got out and trudged through the mud. After a quarter mile, Jamie realized Eddie’s leg must have started hurting again. His strides became shorter, his limp more pronounced, and he held on to tree branches for support. Eddie asked, “What will we tell the Brethren when we get there?”
That was an easy question for Jamie. “We’ll tell them we’re spiritual pilgrims, seeking enlightenment.”
“Sounds like bull to me.”
“They’ll eat it up, trust me.”
*
When they reached the end of the road, their map indicated it was the Brethren’s compound. But there weren’t any clues that it was a church—there were no steeples or statues of saints. A No Trespassing sign hung from the electronically controlled steel gate, and so did a sign that read Danger, electrified fence. Branching from each side of the gate was a twenty-foot-tall chain-link fence that sprawled for miles.
“Looks like an army base,” Eddie exclaimed. “Or a prison.”
Jamie had to agree. “Onward Christian Soldiers,” he said, but he was thinking, Who are they trying to keep out? Or keep in? He didn’t have time to formulate an answer, though. He heard something in the distance. “Did you hear that?” he asked Eddie.
“Hear what?”
There was a crunch in the snow. Jamie looked into Eddie’s eyes and saw them grow bigger. The crunches got louder and nearer. Jamie paused, then jumped up and down, waving his arms like he was a castaway on a deserted island. “We’re here! We’re over here!” he yelled. It must have looked like he lost his marbles.
From the other side of the gate, an obese, dirty man stumbled out of the bushes. He was dressed like an Amish elder. He wore simple, linen clothes that were disheveled. And he looked ornery. Very ornery.
“Who are you and what are you doing here?”
“We’re two lost souls, searching for the light of God,” Jamie replied.
“What the…”
Jamie gave Eddie a jab in the ribs for him to give it try. “We’ve come to the Brethren to find the way, the truth, and the life.”
“Yeah, as if I believe that,” the man said, moving in closer the gate. “Okay, who are you? Really. Your names.”
“My name is Eddie. And this is my husb—my friend, Jamie.”
“Really?” The cantankerous man started laughing. His head thrashed up and down, exposing a mouth filled with brown teeth. He regained control and pulled out a revolver. “You boys tell a good story, but it’s just that. A story. You’re not seeking enlightenment.”
“Yes, we are,” Jamie said. “I swear to God.”
“We don’t swear here, so shut up,” the man yelled back. “And even if I did believe you, do you think the Brethren would accept anyone off the street?”
Neither answered.
The man shook his gun again. “Well, do you?”
“No, sir,” Jamie replied.
“You’re damn right, we wouldn’t. Most people aren’t worthy of belonging to the Brethren.”
“Aren’t we supposed to love our neighbors?” Jamie asked.
The fat man raised his gun to Jamie’s face. “I’ll tell you what I love. My weapon. So I suggest you get your scrawny ass out of here before I use it for target practice.”
“All right. All right.” Jamie held his arms above his head. He and Eddie slowly backed up the road about a hundred feet. At the first clearing, Jamie steered Eddie into the woods, opposite of the way they arrived, and they started running as fast as they could.
They came upon a strange-looking building with only three walls. “What the heck is this?” Eddie asked.
“It’s a lean-to,” Jamie told him. Growing up in Wisconsin, he’d seen lots of them. Not much to see, though. Basically a roof with a single slope, three walls, and a large open space where the fourth wall should be. Eddie lay on the bench inside, and Jamie sat next to him. He gently rubbed Eddie’s leg.
After a moment of contented silence, Jamie finally said, “It’s too suspicious.”
“What is?”
“Well, something isn’t right about a religion turning away potential converts. It only makes me more determined to find out what the hell they’re hiding.”
There wasn’t an answer, so he looked down at Eddie. He was asleep.
Chapter Nine
Zacchaeus sat in his room. A hallway, really. His eyes were heavy and he looked forward to resting on his mat for a few hours. He had cooked the Disciples’ supper, wild turkey with root vegetables. Then he finished their laundry and did as much of their mending as he possibly could. There were so many to be cared for, and he was so weary.
He recited a hymn that gave him comfort. Work is sweet, for God has blest honest work with quiet rest. But he didn’t have a chance to finish the song, or to relax. Disciple Raamiah burst in.
“My dear little Zacchaeus,” he said, picking leftover turkey from his teeth. “You’ll never guess who I ran into today.”
“Who, Disciple Raamiah?” He didn’t want to talk with him, but didn’t dare rebuke him, either.
“Your boyfriends. That Eddie Delgado and Jamie Bradford. They came to the gates, wanting to get in. I don’t know where their girlfriend was, though.”
Zacchaeus’s hands started shaking. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, it’s a pity you have such a short memory.” Raamiah reached down, grabbed Zacchaeus’s crotch, and squeezed. “Lucky for us, other things aren’t so limited.”
Zacchaeus stood still as Raamiah burrowed his face into his neck. He smelled Raamiah’s bad breath and his body tensed. “I already paid you for that favor,” he said, his voice as unstable as his hands.
“But there are many more favors that payment is still owed for.”
“We made no other deals.”
“We may not have explicitly agreed upon them, but we made them. And I’ve lived up to my part of the bargain.”
“What did you do?”
“Well, I sent your boyfriends away, for instance.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I sent them packing. Now you won’t get in trouble.”
“Trouble for what?” He asked the question, but he already knew the answer. Contact with the outside was forbidden, especially for someone as lowly as he was.
Raamiah just laughed. “Well, I can list the reasons now. Or should I save us both some time? After all, you know what I want.”
Raamiah was right. He knew what Raamiah wanted. He took Raamiah’s hand, led him to a secluded part of the quarters, and let him take it.
Chapter Ten
Ellen drank hot chocolate while she waited in Marianne’s office for her father. She had lost count of how many c
ups she had consumed, she’d been there so long. When he finally stopped by, they went into his office to talk.
She took a comfortable guest chair and her father planted himself behind his large mahogany desk. “So why did you come up?”
He always got down to business. She couldn’t remember him ever being concerned about her personal life, school and friends, that kind of thing. Business was as close to personal as he ever got.
She started to answer him, but never got the chance. Marianne buzzed him on the intercom. “Mr. Rhodes, the senior senator from Texas is on the phone for you. He says it’s urgent.”
“I could care less what that S.O.B. says. I contribute enough to his Super PACS. If he wants to speak to me, he can make an appointment.”
“Yes, Mr. Rhodes.” He was about to disconnect when Marianne spoke again. “One more thing, sir. May I assign someone to contact potential security firms?”
“Does this have to be done now?” He looked at Ellen, and she smiled back politely.
Marianne continued, “You do have some public appearances coming up.”
“With Bible thumpers. I think we’ll get by.”
“Of course, Mr. Rhodes.”
He disconnected the intercom, then his telephone rang. He looked at the caller ID and said, “This is from my lawyer on the private line. Mind if I take it?”
It would be useless to say no, so she acquiesced with a shrug. He turned on his speakerphone and relaxed in his chair. “Yeah, Harry. What’s up?”
Harry’s voice sprang from the speaker. “Glad I was able to catch you, Mr. Rhodes. This is of vital importance.”
“I’m with my daughter, Harry. Can we do this another time?”
“But it’s about the Minnesota state representative, Mr. Rhodes. She’s mad that you didn’t donate to her Morality Initiative. She’s threatening to retaliate.”
“Does she have the power?”
“I doubt it.”
“Then I’ll talk with you about it later.” He turned his phone off and said, “Sorry, Sweet Pea.”
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