by Lesley Diehl
“This is the responsibility of the sheriff’s department,” said Jake. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”
Tony looked at him for a long minute. “I said I was going to call a lawyer, not the mob. You don’t think I’ve got connections just because I’m Italian, do you?”
“I’m not going to answer such an absurd question.” Jake turned his back on Tony and faced Father Charles. “Let’s step over here for a moment.”
“You were right, Hera. This may just be too far from the city for someone like me.” Tony spun on his heel and flipped open his cell phone.
I couldn’t do anything for Tony, so I moved toward Jake and the band of Father followers. One of them was Megan. I stepped up to her.
“Hello, Megan. You remember me?”
To my surprise she smiled rather than reacting the way I’d expected, such as making the sign of the cross to fend off the evil brewer.
“Oh, yes. I’ve been praying for you.” She then lowered her voice. “And praying your brews would sour, the yeast die, and the vats pour forth blood.”
“Gee, thanks for your thoughts.” I turned my back on her and walked over to Jake and Father Charles.
“What do you know about all this?” Jake asked.
“We know the man Tony came from Sodom and Gomorrah to begin his corruption of the youth here with his strong drink, much like this woman.” Father reached out and grasped my shoulder with his bony fingers. “She makes the devil’s brews in her barn and entices young men to work with her, then kills them.”
I shoved his hand away. “Don’t touch me, and stop spreading rumors about me and my business and filling your followers’ heads with dark foolishness.”
“Not bad advice, Reverend,” said Jake. “Now where were you earlier tonight?”
Father rocked back on his heels. “I don’t have to answer your questions.”
“Would you prefer coming down to headquarters instead?”
The reverend dropped his other-worldly pose. “If you’re arresting me, I think I’ll call my lawyer.” He pulled a cell phone out from under his poncho and nodded to his flock, all of whom extracted their phones also.
“Pretty high tech,” I said.
“We’re people of God, not fools.”
Jake held up his hand. “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. I’m trying to ascertain your whereabouts so I can eliminate you from my list of suspects. If you were around this area tonight, you might have seen something or someone. You could be a great help to me.” Jake gave Father his best Sunday-going-to-church smile. It was an act I’d seen him perform with suspects before. I wondered if the reverend would be reassured enough to cooperate with him. I thought Jake was laying it on a bit thick, but the reverend flipped his phone closed, as did the others, and smiled prayerful high wattage in return.
“I’d be happy to talk to you.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “But not with her here.”
“I’ll go find Tony.” I told myself I had no interest in what the reverend was saying to Jake, but that wasn’t true. This group or cult, or whatever they might call themselves, was spooking me.
“We call ourselves Lambs of the Father,” said a voice from behind me.
Megan, and she had read my mind. Now I was really spooked.
“You’re afraid of us,” she said.
“No, I’m worried about all of you. Your parents …”
“My parents don’t care anything about me, but Father does. Does that answer your question?”
“I know your father and mother worry about you.”
“Oh, because they went to a lot of trouble and expense to get Bruce back? That was Bruce, their son, not me, a girl. Dad had great plans for Bruce in the company. I guess that’s shot to hell now that Bruce is dead.” She seemed shocked at her own words.
“Such bitterness,” I said. The expression on her face changed from anger and hurt to fear.
“Don’t tell Father what I said.”
“He wouldn’t listen to anything coming out of my mouth anyway. Don’t worry. I’ll keep your resentment and jealousy of Bruce a secret.”
She seemed about to step back into her good little lamb persona.
“Are you afraid of Father?” I asked.
“No. No. I respect him. I know he has to punish us for our sins sometimes, but I wish he wouldn’t do it in front of the others. It’s so humiliating.”
I grabbed Megan’s arm and pulled her into the shadows of the building, out of the glare of the vehicles’ lights, away from the other members of the group and from Father.
“How does he punish you?”
I leaned in close to her to hear her answer and read terror in her eyes. She placed her hands over her face.
“I’m so unhappy. I’m confused. Father said Bruce was evil, but I loved him.” She began to sob, her thin shoulders shaking.
“You’re coming with me,” I said.
“Where?”
That was a good question. Jake had driven me to Tony’s house, so I had no car to get home.
“Let’s go see the big bad man from the city.” I pulled her down the street toward Tony’s house.
~
Tony ran his hands through his hair again and again, almost as if he wanted to pull it out by its roots.
“Why did you bring her here?” he asked.
Megan appeared ready to bolt out the front door, but I laid my hand on her arm.
“I need to borrow your car to take her someplace safe, someplace removed from that group where she can do her own thinking. I rode into town with Jake tonight, so I’ve got no wheels, and he’s going to be tied up for a while.”
“Fine.” He tossed the keys to me. “I’ve got to get back to my restaurant. I just needed a minute to cool off. A representative from my insurance company said he’d meet me there. Leave the keys on the dining room table when you bring back the car.”
“You may think we’re a small town, and I’m sure you’ve heard no one locks up, but, after this past summer and now with the restaurant, I’d prefer delivering them to you in person. See you later. Lock your doors.”
“Where are we going?” Megan asked. Removed from Father and the group, she seemed like any other young adult. She both trusted too much and yet had a streak of cynicism running through her.
“Well, as I said to Tony, you need somewhere to get away for a while and think.” I hadn’t a clue where I’d take her. I just began driving out of town, and soon the car seemed to pull me toward my own place.
“Here?” The suspicious part of her personality rose up again. I didn’t blame her. I was someone she had been taught to mistrust, even to hate, and I was offering her a safe haven. But in my own house?
“I’ve got several spare bedrooms, and no one will ever suspect you’re here. Besides, I work all the time. We’ll hardly see each other.”
We got out of the car and walked up to my kitchen door. I extracted my key from my bag and let her in.
“The fridge is there. Help yourself. If I’m not around, leave me a note and let me know what you need, but I’m usually in the brew barn.”
I led her upstairs to the front bedroom.
She walked to the window and parted the curtain to look out.
“This is nice, real homey. I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to lie down. I’m really tired.”
“Sure. Towels are in the linen closet outside this door, and the bathroom’s down the hall. I’ll see you tomorrow then. G’night.”
“Thank you. What should I call you?”
“Well, I guess the evil witch isn’t really appropriate, so try Hera on for size.”
Her eyes jumped at the word evil, but then she got it. “A joke, right?”
“Right.”
“Then thanks again. Hera. You were named for the queen of the gods.”
“Don’t make more of it than it is. My mother wanted an unusual name, one that others wouldn’t have. She loved to read Greek mythology.”
“
A bit pagan.”
“My mother was interested in many religions including Christianity.”
Feeling confident Megan was in a safe place for the time being, I drove into town and dropped off Tony’s car at his house, then walked to the restaurant. Tony and Jake were standing in front of the place. All the emergency vehicles and police had gone, and the street stood as silent as it was on most summer nights, but something in the atmosphere had shifted imperceptibly. Torn apart by the fracking controversy and the murder at my place, this unsettled community had yet another problem in its midst. Someone was making outsiders here feel unwelcome and had chosen a violent way to send their message.
“Sure, I’m covered by insurance, but the extra work means I’ll be opening later than I’d planned. I wanted to get the business going soon so I could attract tourists, but winter’s closing in soon, and business will be slow.”
“Maybe we can do something about that eventually.” I told him about Ronald’s plan for a resort center with an inn and restaurant to feature the wines and craft beers from the valley. I wanted to show Tony there was every reason for him to remain here.
“The restaurant will give me some competition,” he said.
“Some, but we could invite you as a guest chef several times each month. It would be good for us and for you, too.” I hoped the idea would buoy his spirits. “If you’re interested, I’ll talk to Ronald and Deni.”
“Sure.”
Tony and I began to discuss food and beverages while Jake stood by with an odd look on his face as if he were being left out of the party. He was. How could I be so insensitive?
“Look, let’s talk later. I’m sure you’re exhausted. I know I am.” I grabbed Jake’s arm and looked up into his face. “How about you take me home?”
“I’ve got a lot of paperwork ahead of me tonight. Tony, would you mind giving Hera a ride? It’s only a few miles out of town.”
I was relieved. That look on his face was the distraction of a long night ahead of him, not the irritation of being excluded from our talk about the resort.
“No problem. I probably won’t get a lot of sleep tonight anyway.” Tony offered his arm to me.
Jake climbed into the county’s SUV and waved as he took off for headquarters. Tony and I walked the short distance to his house.
“Thanks for not mentioning my visit to your place with Megan,” I said to Tony. “Jake might worry, not that he has anything to worry about.”
“You found someplace for her to stay, I gather.”
“Yep. My house.”
Tony was about to open the door of his car for me, but he stopped.
“Are you certain that’s wise?”
“I think she’s just a mixed-up kid.”
“Mixed up with the wrong people, I’d say.”
The crunch of gravel in the driveway alerted us to the presence of someone. Father Charles.
“Where’s Megan? I saw the two of you together earlier. What did you do with her?”
“That’s none of your business. She’s not a child. She can do what she pleases.”
“I understand her. You do not.”
Tony stepped between Father and me. “You’re trespassing. Again. Stay off my property. Stay away from me and my friends. If the law won’t make you pay for what you did to my restaurant, I will.” Tony pushed him backward with both hands.
“I’m going, but you, you witch, you’ve taken on something you will regret. Have you considered that Megan may be responsible not only for the destruction of the restaurant, but also for her brother’s death?”
“What do you know? Did you tell Jake this?” I asked.
“Yes, I did. He’ll be interested in her whereabouts too.”
~
I had to let Jake know about Megan, and I was not looking forward to getting in touch with him. After Tony dropped me off, I stood in my drive and called Jake from my cell and told him Megan’s location. He said nothing to my news except, “I’ll be there in a few minutes. Wait outside for me.”
The sun was topping the east ridge when he pulled into the driveway.
“Are you out of your mind? What were you thinking, taking this woman into your own house?”
“She’s a little odd, but I think she’s just confused about who her friends are.”
“As I remember, she thinks you’re a witch.”
“She’s changed her mind on that one.”
Jake started toward the kitchen door. I grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Are you going to arrest her?”
“I’m going to talk to her.”
“Good. I should be there with you. She trusts me.”
“I guess the two of you did a bit of bonding while my back was turned.”
“You sound like I betrayed you by making friends with Megan. Besides, I didn’t set out to gain her confidence. It just happened.”
“Right. Did you just happen to think you might be harboring a killer?”
To keep from saying more, I clamped down on my teeth hard enough to make my jaw ache. From the cup with a teabag in it on the kitchen table, it looked as if Megan had made herself an early morning cup of herbal tea.
“Get her, but don’t let her know I’m here.”
I stood at the foot of the stairs and called her name. There was no answer.
“I’ll bet she’s dead asleep.” Not a great choice of words. I took the steps two at a time and walked down the hall toward the closed bedroom door. Dim light from the rising sun filtered through the lace curtain on the window at the end of the hallway. I tapped on her door.
“Megan? Sorry to wake you, but there’s someone here to talk to you. Could you get up and come downstairs? I’ll make some breakfast.”
There was no answer. Fearing something had happened to her, I swung open the door. I let out the breath I’d been holding. Silly me. There was nothing wrong with her. She just wasn’t there.
Seven
“She went back to Father Charles and his loony group, I’ll bet,” said Jake.
Jake and I were seated at my kitchen table, drinking coffee. My body felt twitchy from lack of sleep, and the coffee only added to the feeling.
“I don’t think so, but I worry Father Charles and the group may want to harm her.”
“And that would be why?” Jake’s face was scruffy looking with the day’s growth of beard, and there were dark circles under his eyes.
“That was an absurd story he told you about her being responsible for Bruce’s death and the vandalism of Tony’s restaurant. I think he’s trying to throw blame on her to deflect it from him.”
“I checked his alibi for the night of Bruce’s murder. He was miles away doing a service in Kingston, and Megan was not with him that night.”
“What about last night?”
“The group was soliciting money door to door. We found that out from several homes in the village. I can pinpoint where some members were and when, but not Megan.”
“Where was Father Charles?”
“I don’t know. I only know he and the rest of his flock showed up after the cops got to Tony’s.”
He dropped his chin onto his hands and sighed deeply.
“God, I’m tired.”
“You have today off, right?”
He nodded.
“Go home and get some sleep.”
“Can’t. Paperwork, and tonight I’m on the clock. There’s that drilling meeting at the county seat.”
“What meeting? I didn’t hear about any get-together.”
“Maybe because it’s for the proponents of gas exploration. They’re trying to set up a bus trip to the Capitol to petition the legislature not to support the moratorium bill on fracking.”
“That’s not something I want to attend.”
“Good, because I suspect a lot of the opponents of drilling will go, and there’ll be another brouhaha like the last meeting. Maybe worse.”
“People are getting angrier and angrier on both sides, and this
community is too small for such controversy. With tempers flaring as they did the other night, sooner or later someone is going to get hurt.”
“Or killed.” Jake grabbed his hat off the table and pushed back his chair. “Stay away from these meetings.” He turned and walked out.
I should have yelled after him, “I can take care of myself,” but I knew he was simply expressing his concern for me. I began clearing the cups off the table when I heard the door open. Jake strode over and put his arms around me.
“I’m not trying to tell you what to believe or how to run your life. I worry about you. You seem to find your way into the middle of every problem around here.”
He kissed me and cupped his hands around my face for a moment, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Be sure to tell me if Megan returns, won’t you?”
“Sure,” I said. He dropped his hands, and I looked down. I would tell him—after I talked with her.
That night a furious thunderstorm blew through the area, and I wondered where Megan would find shelter. These storms usually came during the summer months, but the weather had been unseasonably warm this fall. A funnel cloud was sighted a few miles outside the county seat, so the fracking meeting was cancelled. Jake contacted me through our cell phones in the middle of the storm to make certain I was waiting out the blow in my cellar. I lied and said I was, not wanting to worry him as I sat in my barn, babysitting my batch of fermenting ale. For a brewer there’s no place as comforting as her own brew barn with its warm, organic smells. All during the howling winds, roaring thunder and lightning strikes, I worried about Megan.
I must have fallen asleep on the cot in the tasting room, because I awoke with a jerk, sensing someone in the room with me.
“Who’s there?” I flicked on my flashlight, directing its beam toward the breathing I heard coming from the foot of my make-shift bed.
“It’s me, Megan.”
“Thank God. You scared me.” I caught a movement at her side and shone the flashlight there. Another person, this one a preadolescent girl, moved closer to Megan.
“You’re sure she’s not a witch?” the girl asked. Her voice was high, squeaky with fear.
“Who’s this?” I asked.