Extreme Justice: A Ben Kincaid Novel of Suspense bk-7

by William Bernhardt

  She wasn’t wearing any clothing.

  “Welcome to the Christian Purity Bible Camp,” she said, extending her hand. “I’m Rona Harris.”

  Wordlessly, Ben took her hand and shook it.

  “Thank you for joining us. May I show you around?”

  Ben tried to keep his eyes glued to her face, which was a considerable challenge under the circumstances.

  “I’d be happy to give you the grand tour. Or if you’d like, you can talk to some of our happy campers.” She paused, waiting for a response that didn’t come. “Would that be acceptable?”

  “Buh—” Ben replied.

  “Is there something wrong?” Rona raised a hand to her face. “Oh my. You didn’t know, did you?”

  “Buh—wuh—” Ben sputtered.

  Christina walked around from her side of the van, her eyes widening slightly as she took in the view. “We knew you were pure,” Christina said. “We just didn’t realize how pure.”

  Rona laughed. “I thought everyone knew by now. Everyone who knew enough about us to visit, anyway. How did you find out about us?”

  Christina stepped in front of Ben. “Denny Bachalo is a friend of ours. He recommended it.”

  “Good for him.” She turned back to Ben. “Perhaps Denny should be your tour guide.”

  “That’s a great idea,” Christina supplied. “Do you know where he is?”

  “I don’t, but Kerrie will. She’s in charge of daily activities. Sort of like our cruise director.” She laughed. “Why don’t we head toward her cabin? We can talk along the way.” She took Ben’s arm and wrapped it around hers, drawing him close. “Shall we?”

  “Buh-wuh—wuh—” Ben said compliantly.

  Ben walked side by side with Rona, with Christina just a few steps behind. Somewhere along the way, he managed to find his voice.

  “Would you feel more comfortable if I put something on?” Rona asked.

  “In a word, yes.”

  “All right.” She reached into her small purse, withdrew a chiffon scarf, and wrapped it artfully around her head. “There. Is that better?”

  She and Christina giggled.

  “Much,” Ben said quietly. “Thanks.”

  As they strolled through the grounds, they passed several people sitting under shade trees, reading, meditating. Male and female. And every one of them naked as the day they were born.

  “Somehow,” Ben said, “despite all the strange things I’ve encountered these past few years, I never expected to stumble into a Christian nudist camp.”

  Rona tittered. “Well, a few years ago, I would’ve laughed if someone had told me I would be superintending one. But here I am.”

  “I didn’t think Christians liked nudity.”

  “That’s the impression we’re trying to correct. Christian discomfort with nudity goes back to Adam and Eve. You know, in Eden we were naked, but after we sinned, we were clothed. Hence nudity is associated with sin. And of course, most fundamentalist groups encourage modesty in dress so as not to provoke … passionate responses.”

  “Some of Christina’s outfits have provoked passionate responses,” Ben said, “but probably not in the way you mean.”

  “Here at the Christian Purity Bible Camp,” Rona continued, “we believe these views have distorted the proper focus, have obscured the true meaning of the parable. Why go on obsessing over Eve’s mistake? After all, when we become Christians, our sins are forgiven. We hope we can recapture some of the purity of spirit that must have been present at the beginning. Some of that original goodness.”

  Ben looked at her blank-faced. “By shedding your clothing.”

  “How better? If clothes are simply a reminder of our fall, why shouldn’t we cast them aside? Here at the Christian Purity Camp we say, let’s put away the reminders of what we failed to do, and seek instead to discover what we can do.”

  “The Bible does say God created man in His own image,” Christina offered.

  “Exactly.” Rona was getting excited, catching fire on her favorite subject. “And if that’s so, what right have we to hide God’s own image? His image reflects one aspect of His divinity. It’s a gift—not something to be buried under T-shirts and stonewashed jeans.”

  “So you founded the Christian Purity Bible Camp.”

  “Oh my, no. I didn’t start it. I’m simply a local facilitator. And a believer, of course. The first camp was established in North Carolina. This is the seventh in the nation, and we have plans to start three more next year.”

  “Wow.”

  “We even have a national newsletter—The Fig Tree Forum. Ah, here we are.” She stopped in front of a tiny cabin. “Let me step inside for just a moment.” She knocked gently on the door, then entered.

  As soon as she was gone, Christina whirled to face Ben. “Ben, you’ve gotten me into some pretty bizarre situations over the years. But a Christian nudist colony? This takes the cake.”

  “Look, it’s not as if I knew—”

  “Well, you should have. From now on, before you take me anywhere, I want you to thoroughly investigate one major question: do they wear clothing?”

  He patted her on the shoulder. “Christina, just say a little prayer. I’m sure your angel will get you through this.”

  “Get me through? My angel is telling me to get the hell out of here!”

  Before they had a chance to continue the discussion, Rona emerged with another woman. Kerrie was much younger than Rona—probably mid-twenties, Ben guessed, and he had every reason to be able to make a good guess, because all the available evidence was on display.

  “Hi, I’m Kerrie,” she said, with a buoyant bounce in her voice and, Ben noted, the rest of her as well. “I’m glad you could come.”

  Ben struggled ruthlessly to maintain strict eye contact. “This is Christina McCall,” he said, pointing. “And I’m Ben Kincaid.”

  Kerrie drew back suddenly. “Not the Ben Kincaid.”

  Christina’s lips parted. “The Ben Kincaid?”

  “I mean—” Her hand rose to her mouth. “The lawyer. The one who represented Mayor Barrett.”

  Ben tilted his head to one side. “That was me.”

  “I can’t believe it! I used to watch you every day on television during the trial.”

  “You must’ve been terribly bored,” Ben said.

  “Oh, no. You were fabulous! Before I joined this camp, I considered becoming a lawyer myself. Especially after I saw what you did in the courtroom.”

  “Believe me, it was nothing great.”

  “You’re too modest. I’m surprised they haven’t put you on Court TV or something. You’ve got it all. You’re young, smart, cute—”

  Christina rolled her eyes. “Maybe I should wait in the car.”

  Kerrie flew toward Ben, practically overflowing with enthusiasm. He tried to step away, but she clasped his hand and held him fast. “If I can help you in any way, Mr. Kincaid, I would be so honored. Really I would.”

  Ben cleared his throat. “We want to talk to Denny Bachalo. If you know where he is…”

  “He’ll be down at the prayer meeting right now. I’d be honored if you’d let me show you the way.”

  Ben glanced up. “Well, okay. Christina—”

  Kerrie didn’t quite frown. “She’s welcome too, of course.”

  Christina smiled wryly. “Like I said, maybe I should wait in the car.”

  “That’ll be fine. Of course”—Kerrie turned back toward Ben—”if you’re attending the prayer meeting, you’ll have to … change your attire.”

  “You mean … put on something a little less—”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  “I don’t think—”

  “If you’re not ready to go completely nude yet, we have some little towels you can wear around your waist.”

  Christina pressed her hand against her mouth. “I’m definitely waiting in the car.” She turned back the way they’d come, a waved hand in the air. “See you later, Ben. I’ll expect a
full report.”

  “But, Christina!”

  Kerrie whispered into his ear, “I’d let her go.”

  Ben felt her hot and very present flesh pressing close to him. “Why?”

  Kerrie sniffed. “I only have one towel.”

  “Are you sure this is absolutely necessary?”

  “I’m afraid so, Mr. Kincaid.”

  Ben stared at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall of the changing room. It was him all right—skinny, white as a ghost, and wearing nothing but a ridiculous white terry-cloth cover-up around his waist. He looked like an extra from The Ten Commandments. Without the Man Tan.

  “Couldn’t you just explain that I’m not a member?”

  Kerrie shouted back at him through the curtain. “I’m afraid it would be considered very offensive. Just imagine. How would you feel if you were attending your church service and someone walked in—”

  “Naked?”

  “Yes. Well, this is the same thing. Except exactly the opposite. If you know what I mean.”

  He continued staring into the mirror. “I can’t believe anyone would be comfortable in a getup like this.”

  “Most people aren’t. That’s why they go nude. The towels are just for the newcomers and people with … special problems.”

  Ben’s eyes widened. “Special problems?”

  She nodded. “Susceptibility to sunburn. In the least desirable places.”

  “Oh.” As a delaying tactic, Ben decided to read the RULES OF CONDUCT posted on a sign in the changing room:

  PLEASE REMEMBER THAT THIS IS A CHRISTIAN FAMILY PARK. WE EXPECT YOUR CONDUCT TO CONFORM WITH THE MORAL STANDARDS OF A FAMILY ENVIRONMENT AT ALL TIMES. CAMERAS AND CAMCORDERS ARE NOT PERMITTED EXCEPT BY SPECIAL PERMISSION OF THE MANAGEMENT AND THE PHOTO SUBJECT. NO PETS ARE ALLOWED IN THE COMMON AREAS. PLEASE SHOWER—WITH SOAP—BEFORE ENTERING THE POOL OR HOT TUB. REMEMBER, YOU MUST BE NUDE. NO CLOTHING, BATHING SUITS, OR INTIMATE BODY JEWELRY WILL BE PERMITTED.

  Ben winced. Intimate body jewelry?

  He made a few more minute adjustments to the tiny towel. It seemed there was no turning back, so he took a deep breath and pushed himself through the curtain. “Ta-da.”

  Kerrie giggled. “You look divine, Mr. Kincaid.”

  “Right.” He walked brusquely toward the door. “And by the way, call me Ben.”

  “Oh, wow. I can’t believe it. This is like a dream come true.”

  “For me, too. Now where’s this prayer meeting?”

  They left the cabin and strolled down a hilly expanse, threading their way through unclothed acolytes and meditators. Kerrie chattered virtually non-stop. She had apparently tuned in for every day of the gavel-to-gavel coverage of the Barrett case. Consequently, she was abundantly knowledgeable about Ben’s cases and career.

  “I think it’s just wonderful the way you’ve been able to help people,” she chimed.

  “It would be more wonderful if they paid regularly.”

  “I’m sure helping people isn’t the way to get rich, but you had to do what was in your heart. You know what being a lawyer is supposed to be about, even if the rest of the world seems to have forgotten.” She touched his exposed shoulder. “What cases are you working on now?”

  “To tell you the truth, Kerrie—” He stopped. He couldn’t bring himself to dash her enthusiasm with the revelation that he wasn’t practicing anymore.

  A few moments later, they arrived at an open-faced clamshell-style arena with rows and rows of stone-bench seating. The arena was about half occupied.

  The attendees were on their feet singing “Amazing Grace.” Up front, a video screen was flashing the words in a follow-the-bouncing-ball style.

  “Christian karaoke,” Ben noted. “I love it.”

  He scanned the rows of benches as the multitudes finished the song: “ ‘We’ve no-o le-ess days, to si-ing God’s praise, than when we-ee first began.’ ”

  A man with an impressive hairdo—and nary a stitch of clothing—walked to center stage and began preaching.

  “At least you know he has nothing to hide,” Ben said.

  Kerrie nudged him. “I see Denny. He’s in the back.” She pointed.

  “Okay. Thanks.”

  “Ben?”

  He stopped. “Yes?”

  She stood awkwardly beside him. Ben realized that one of the problems with wearing no clothing—one of many—was that you had nowhere to put your hands. “After you’ve had a chance to talk, do you think maybe …”

  He waited anxiously for the end of the sentence. “Yes?”

  She twirled her fingers. “I know it’s presumptuous of me, but I just thought maybe we could get together. You know—to talk. I’d love to hear more about your work.” She took a step closer to him. “And then we’d just see what developed …”

  He took a step back. “Unfortunately, I’m very busy right now.”

  “Oh. Of course.” Her eager smile faded.

  “I’ve got this new investigation going. And time is of the essence.”

  Her eyes met the floor. “Sure. I understand.”

  He peered down at her crestfallen face. “But look. Can I call you here at the camp? Maybe we can set something up. After the crunch has passed.”

  Her chin lifted. “Would you? Would you really?”

  “If I can. And for that matter, my number’s in the book.”

  “I can’t believe it!” She wrapped her arms tightly around him. “This is so exciting! I can’t believe this!”

  Ben sidled out of her embrace. “I’d probably better talk to Denny now.”

  “Right. I don’t want to slow you down, ’cause I know how important your work is.” She turned away, then turned back. “But if there’s anything I can do—”

  “You’ll be the first one I call.”

  She wrapped her arms around herself. “I can’t believe this! I just can’t believe this!”

  Neither can I, Ben thought. Neither can I.

  He carved a path through the thick of the congregation. He did his best to wind his way through the pews without letting his eyes drop below chin level. It was a challenging exercise in mental concentration.

  Finally he made it to Denny’s row. He slid into the pew beside him.

  “Ben!” It was the same old Denny he had known and admired behind the drum set, except that he was now naked as a jaybird. “What are you doing here?”

  “I wanted to see you.” Although, he thought, I didn’t want to see as much of you as I’m seeing.

  “Hey, you look good in a towel. Nice pecs.”

  “Gee, thanks. Look, can we talk?”

  “Well, I don’t know.” He gestured toward the front. “We’re having Bible study.”

  “I’ll keep my voice down.” Ben slid in close. “I wanted to ask if you saw anything the other night. You know, before I found the body.”

  “Man, I’ve already answered these questions for the cops. Who are you, Junior G-man?”

  “No, I’m a lawyer.”

  “Oh, man, right. Like, I heard that, but I didn’t believe it.”

  “Believe it. The cops are on Earl’s tail, and he’s asked me to help. Find out what really happened.”

  “Just like Matlock on TV.”

  “Something like that. Did you see anything out of the ordinary? Anything maybe you didn’t remember at first, but did later?”

  Denny shook his head. “I don’t think so, man. The whole evening seemed perfectly same-old same-old to me. Till that corpse flopped down in your face.” He leaned closer. “Hey, what did that feel like, anyway?”

  “Like a sack of cold slimy Spam giving you a full-front tackle,” Ben answered. “Except it turns out not to be Spam.”

  Denny shook all over. “Brrrrrrr. Glad it wasn’t me. Worse than fingernails on the chalkboard.”

  “Much.” Ben tried to get back on track. “Did you hear anyone say anything unusual?”

  “Not that I recall. Well, just Earl. Muttering about something—I didn’t
know what. Man, he was really uptight that night.”

  Ben nodded. “Diane told me she thought you seemed rather uptight yourself.”

  “Me? Hell, I’m always uptight before a show. Stage jitters, that’s all.”

  “You’ve probably heard that I saw some guy who said he was delivering a rug. I don’t suppose you saw him, by any chance?”

  “ ’Fraid not. After we finished rehearsing, I went out to have a smoke and pray. I like to get in a worshipful mood before we perform. So I walked out toward the woods till I found a place I could be alone.”

  “So you could … pray?”

  “Right.”

  Ben’s lips parted. “But you didn’t—”

  Denny laughed. “No, Ben, I didn’t strip off my clothes. That isn’t a requisite, you know. We do it here, where we have some privacy, because we think it brings us closer to God. But I don’t do it, like, in the middle of the workday. What do you think I am, some kind of nut?”

  “Perish the thought.” Ben decided to try another tack. “How long have you known Earl?”

  “ ’Bout a year. Since he opened the club.”

  “Not before?”

  He shook his head. “I’d heard his name, mind you. I was playing some clubs down in Dallas and Oklahoma City. Of course, whenever people started talking jazz sax, someone would mention Earl Bonner. Earl Bonner and the great Professor Hoodoo. They’d tell the whole story. You know, how they were the best of friends and played together like magic, but then they fell in love with the same woman, and Earl blew the Professor away. It’s almost a legend now. Like Frankie and Johnny.”

  “So you knew Earl had done time for that murder.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  “And you assumed he was guilty.”

  “I think everyone assumed he was guilty, Ben. It, like, went without saying, you know?”

  “And that didn’t bother you?”

  Denny grinned. “What, like, he might come after me next?” He chuckled softly. “I don’t think so. I wouldn’t cross the man. Covet not another dude’s squeeze. That’s my motto.”

  Words to live by, Ben thought. “Still, if he lost his temper once …”

  “Hey, everyone’s got a temper, okay?” For the first time Denny was showing a trace of his. “You just have to learn to keep it under control. And Earl’s had twenty-two long years to practice, okay? Next question.”