Hannah had still sent Susan home. She’d been frightened, felt betrayed by her assistant’s possible culpability. And even more disturbed by the fact that her lover, a fellow judge, could be stabbing her in the back while he caressed her. The ramifications were too awful to contemplate and reached far beyond personal betrayal.
Afraid that William might really get worried and turn up at her home, Hannah dialed his cell that afternoon, relieved when her call went straight to voice mail. She told him she was fine. And that she thought they needed some time apart, time to figure out how her career choices and his son, could fit together.
She just couldn’t believe, or perhaps didn’t want to believe, that William was working for the Ivory Nation.
Much easier to think she’d been double-crossed by a young woman who gossiped too much, but only in her own relatively small circle. Without as much clout or public trust. Without as much power.
One thing was certain: there were only two people who knew that she’d decided to grant the state’s motion to allow Courtney Moss’s testimony and one of them had sold her out.
The blow was equal no matter who had dealt it.
Brian considered not calling Hannah. But free or not, he’d changed during his days in that small gray cell. Life was worth more to him. Time was no longer a commodity, but a gift.
Personal honesty was a must.
There was no more running. No more hiding.
In jail. Or out.
Being caged by bars was one thing—being imprisoned by the fear of living was a fate worse than death.
“Brian, hi.” Hannah sounded welcoming when he called Sunday before noon. Welcoming and reticent, as well.
She wasn’t sure what to do with him.
That made two of them.
“Are you free?” he asked simply though his mind was reeling.
“Yeah, what do you need? I was planning to come this afternoon. Can I bring you something?”
Brian was fully aware of the relief that swept through him with the knowledge that she’d been planning to come see him. After his confession on Friday, and her absence at Saturday’s visitation, he’d been unsure.
He acknowledged the relief—and moved on. She thought he was calling from jail.
“I need a ride,” he told her, both exhilarated and focused. He had much to do.
“What? You’re out? What happened? Where are you?”
The rapid questions made him smile, briefly. And the stiffness in his face reminded him of how long it had been since he’d done so.
He’d spent he didn’t know how many hours of the past twenty-four locked in a conference room at the jail with Tucson detective Daniel Boyd, Detective Angelo, and, of all people, Bobby Donahue, leader of the Ivory Nation.
The man who’d been stalking Hannah for more than a year.
He’d had a little sleep. They all had. But not much.
“I’m free and will be ready to go within the hour,” he said. After one last briefing. “I’d rather wait and explain when I see you.”
At this point he didn’t trust anyone. Or anything. Including the precinct phone.
“I’m leaving right now.”
Brian almost repeated the release instructions he’d been given, but then remembered there was no need.
Hannah knew the drill.
23
“T ell me what’s going on.” Hannah faced Brian, a changed man, at his kitchen table. He’d insisted they wait until they were safely behind his alarm system before he’d tell her anything.
She still wasn’t sure why.
But she was scared to death.
“Yesterday afternoon Bobby Donahue contacted a Tucson detective who’d helped him, briefly, when his girlfriend, Amanda, first disappeared. He’s turning himself in—and turning in the Ivory Nation, as well.”
She didn’t believe it. It was another ruse. A game. “What? Why?” Who were the pawns? How many would there be this time?
“He received word, while in jail, that Amanda was still alive. And still in Arizona.”
“God help her.”
“Yeah, well, of course as soon as he got out he was hell-bent on finding her. But when he started digging, he found something else, as well. Something bigger than his own domestic troubles. He discovered the ‘kill them before they grow up and pollute’ project. Officially known as the Save Resources for God’s Babies project.”
Cold and shaking, Hannah couldn’t speak. Could hardly breathe past the lump in her throat. Here it came.
And she wasn’t ready.
“It took Bobby a little longer than usual to find out the details because, not knowing who was involved, he was working on his own.”
She didn’t believe that, either. Bobby Donahue sat in his castle and gave orders.
“The person responsible for the deaths of all six babies is a guy named Steven Brown. He’s a doctor at the free clinic. I’ve worked with him. And he’s a member of the Ivory Nation, though I certainly didn’t know that. I think he initially planned to kill his own patients, but then he met me. And recognized my name from some campaign-funding list. With his IN contacts, it didn’t take him long to figure out that I’d be the perfect target, the perfect frame, and suddenly his plan changed. The Alliance, a rival supremacist organization, heard about the plan through an acquaintance of Brown’s and had wanted in on what was supposed to be not only the biggest single supremacist operation in Phoenix, but was to control a judge—you. And if that failed, would teach you a lesson and use you as an example for anyone else who dared to cross them. Word had spread that you refused to buckle. Which made them nervous.”
So they’d been after her all along.
How had she ever imagined, even for a second, that she was strong enough to take on these fiends? The lump in her throat had spread to her stomach—a cancer that was never going to go away.
Brian, with a frightening lack of emotion, continued to relate disturbing details as though he were reporting on a baseball game—a fact that betrayed the toll the last week had taken on him.
The original scheme had been so simple Hannah didn’t want to understand it. For every male, non-breast-fed Hispanic baby who’d been vaccinated in Brian’s office, there’d appeared a free, professionally wrapped sample of formula in their parents’ mailbox. A sample that had been tainted with HGH, with the help of a supremacist at the packager.
Amanda Blake, in exchange for Alliance protection from the Ivory Nation, had broken into Brian’s office, gotten hold of his records, his calendar, kept Brown up to date on any new Hispanic patients from the free clinic and reported inoculation appointments.
The one piece of vital information they’d been missing was something Brian had considered irrelevant—the fact that none of the babies were breast-fed.
Five of the six babies were the offspring of illegal’s who were poor enough to have to rely on free health care. That they would use anything that arrived without charge was pretty much a given.
And in Hannah’s case, she’d been out of formula and seen the envelope as a godsend at the end of a very tiring day of judging and single parenting. She’d just returned to work the week before, after her personal family leave. She’d still been adjusting to interrupted sleep and full-time work.
She’d been the only question mark. Carlos might not have died.
But they’d tried.
And they’d gotten lucky.
In the end, her fatigue had killed her son.
Baby ate. Baby ingested HGH. Baby died.
End of story.
Oh, God. She’d killed her son. Panic filled her. Choked her. And her mind ran on.
People were so easily manipulated. Smart people. People who should know better.
She hadn’t known. Couldn’t possibly have known. She hadn’t done anything another parent wouldn’t have. Even conscientious parents used mailed samples. Right?
But wouldn’t a conscientious parent have known, first and foremost, that she had enough
sustenance on hand to feed her child?
While Hannah sweated and chilled, while she fought nausea, Brian continued to relay information. No one from the Ivory Nation had known about Amanda’s involvement.
And no one knew, still, how she’d managed to get in and out of Brian’s office.
Hannah didn’t like unanswered questions.
“…God told Donahue that the Ivory Nation has served its purpose. It’s fallen into the hands of evil, and he’s been called to put an end to the corruption. That’s where I come in,” Brian was saying.
Hannah sat up. “What?”
“I agreed to help them, Hannah, in exchange for my immediate release and all charges against me being dropped.”
“Help them how?”
“I’m going to be a pawn used to get Brown’s full confession.”
“No, you aren’t. I—”
He took her hand again, silencing her with a look. “Hear me out, Hannah. Please.”
For him, she’d listen. And then she’d find a way to put an end to this craziness. Holding his gaze, Hannah nodded.
“Donahue’s meeting with Brown today. He’s telling him that he’s known for some time about the Save Resources for God’s Babies project and that God has revealed to Bobby that Brown’s a saint, a genius, for coming up with the plan. For being so in tune with their maker that he heard the voice when it whispered to him. God has told him that Brown was divinely led. Donahue’s going to praise Brown for his attention to God, to faith, to messages. He’s going to praise him for his loyalty to God’s cause of making the world pure by whatever means. Brown’s been brainwashed by Donahue’s teachings for so many years that Donahue can now use those techniques to suck the man in.”
“Which is how he’s managed to run such a large group of criminals for so long.”
“Exactly. You were right about one thing, Hannah. Ivory Nation brethren are everywhere. In all professions. After what I heard last night and today, I’m willing to believe that there isn’t a company anywhere that doesn’t have a supremacist implant. Anyway, Donahue is telling Brown that the cops are closing in, that my innocence is going to be proven and that the state has evidence that will implicate the Ivory Nation. That God has revealed to him that they must act quickly to save the Ivory Nation and that God has told him how to do it.”
Hannah didn’t like the sound of this at all.
“He’s going to tell him that God led me to Donahue in jail. That I was a broken man, one who’d seen the light. That I swore allegiance to the Ivory Nation. That I wished I had killed those babies. That I’ve dedicated myself to the cause and that I’m willing to do whatever it takes to prove my loyalty. He’s telling him that God has said they can trust me.”
“That’s bullshit, Brian!” Hannah pulled her hand away. She couldn’t touch him and listen to this garbage at the same time. Not when it meant she was going to lose him. “These guys don’t trust anyone.”
“Actually, they do,” Brian said. “They’re as vulnerable as anyone else, Hannah. As human. They all need to feel that sense of belonging, just like the rest of us. As misplaced as their trust might be, they get their strength and courage from believing there is someone they can trust.”
Hannah shivered. “You’ve certainly learned a lot in the past twenty-four hours. What are you, some supremacist expert now?”
“I’m a man caught in someone else’s web, choosing to take control of my life.” Brian’s delivery was calm. The lack of defensiveness in his tone confirmed to her that he meant to do this.
“I’ve had more than my share of lemons, Hannah,” he said, his gaze open. “I’m making lemonade.”
“If you partner with Bobby Donahue, you’re committing suicide.”
“I have to do this, Hannah.”
“You aren’t guilty,” she said, her arms across her chest as she faced him across the table. “You didn’t have to make this deal. We’d have gotten you out anyway.”
“You don’t know that.” He sipped his coffee, laced with just a drop of whiskey. “These people are powerful. But it’s more than that. It’s about doing what’s right. About making life matter. About using my life for the greater good, not just my personal good. The police need my cooperation if their plan to draw out the Ivory Nation is going to work.”
“You help people in other ways,” she said, arguing the case of her life. “You save lives, Brian. You help children grow up healthy and happy. You rid the world of sickness every day.”
“Six of my patients are dead, Hannah! For God’s sake, one of them is your son! You think I don’t know what that does to you? I can’t bring Carlos back, sweetie, but I can help bring his killer to justice.”
Hannah’s vision was so blurred with tears, she couldn’t see him. And when she didn’t speak, he continued on with the business at hand.
Hannah didn’t blame him. There came a point when all you could do was go on. Because you weren’t dead.
“Donahue’s telling Brown that one of the brethren told the cops that the Ivory Nation—and not me—was behind the HGH baby deaths. And that the traitor didn’t have a chance to say anything else.”
“But if they have to have this great trust to feel safe, won’t the knowledge that someone snitched destroy them?”
“They’re being told that Miller was the snitch and that’s why he died.”
If she didn’t know better, Hannah might’ve believed Bobby Donahue really was led by God. Everything seemed to fall into place for him. Everything, including a murder to save his ass, worked in his favor.
“And as long as Bobby’s the one saying it, his followers will believe anything,” Brian continued. “And amazingly, he’s never taken a misstep as far as the brotherhood is concerned. It’s almost eerie, like this guy really is perfect—just in his own world and living by beliefs that most of us can’t accept. His real power comes not from the heinous acts or the fear, but from his faithful living, from his willingness to walk through the fire again and again, sacrificing over and over for the cause. There are very few members of the Ivory Nation brotherhood who haven’t benefited from Donahue’s personal dedication at least once. It keeps them faithful. If one of the brethren fell, then that brother is a traitor and will be dealt with accordingly. But as long as Donahue succeeds, they are strong and powerful.”
Hannah’s hands were shaking, her entire body trembling.
“Donahue’s going to tell Brown that if they’re going to hold off exposure, refute a dead cop’s testimony, they’re going to have to catch me red-handed so there won’t be any doubt in the prosecutor’s mind as to who killed those babies. There won’t be any need for further investigation. Donahue’s going to tell Brown that I’ve agreed to inject an infant with HGH. There will be a witness to the injection and the syringe will have my fingerprints.”
There was a buzzing in Hannah’s ears. “Who’s going to be the witness?” she asked, dreading the answer.
“Steven Brown. He’s being asked, as others of God’s prophets have been, to sacrifice his infant daughter for the cause. He’s being told he is the only one Bobby can trust to witness the injection. He’s a doctor. He can give professional testimony in court. I’m to give him the syringe when I’ve completed the injection. He’ll say he found it at the clinic.”
Hannah tried to speak, and couldn’t. A father was willing to sacrifice his own child? She stared at Brian, horrified. This was all too sick. Too…
“Why not just have you confess? Then there wouldn’t need to be a trial. Or any of this.”
“Right now, I’m charged with first-degree murder, but there are no capital charges. If I admit guilt, there would be no trial and the state would go straight for the death penalty. A sacrifice like that would make the brotherhood too nervous.”
“Why should they care?”
“Because I’m only being asked to take the same risks as all of them. That’s what bonds them so closely. They’re all equally vulnerable, equally guilty, equally at risk. An
d they take those risks because they believe that Bobby—with God’s help—can free them if they get caught. The last thing they want to see is a brother, especially a new recruit, who can’t be saved.”
It made a twisted sort of sense. The same twisted, sick thinking that marked everything Donahue.
“What if they find out that Donahue’s betrayed them?”
“Then I’m of no use.” Brian stood, warmed his coffee. And hers, adding a touch of whiskey. “And no threat, either. They’ll already know that they’ve been found out. I’m only useful if I can help them stay out of jail.”
“And you really think they’ll fall for this stupid scheme? They really believe that you’re willing to inject a baby girl with HGH, and leave the syringe where it can be found to clear the brotherhood, even though it means being found guilty of murders they committed? They believe you’re willing to take the rap for them, to be arrested, because you know Bobby Donahue and God will protect you and get you out of jail?”
“Yes. They’ve all been asked to do similar things at one time or another. It’s normal to them. This is how these guys work, Hannah. You have to go the distance, with no thought to self, only to the good of the brotherhood, in order to get in. That’s how and why they trust each other as they do. They wouldn’t trust a simpler plan. Sacrifice—self-sacrifice—is what breeds the adrenaline that keeps the Ivory Nation alive.”
She just couldn’t comprehend this. And at the same time, she could.
“And you honestly believe that this Steven Brown is so loyal that he’ll sacrifice his own daughter just because Donahue tells him to? It’s all so convoluted.”
“Look at the Bible, Hannah. It’s filled with convoluted tests of faith. It’s another one of Donahue’s techniques. He uses biblical examples, which instills loyalty.
“And yes, after sitting in a room with Bobby Donahue for much of the past twenty-four hours, I really think Brown will agree. He believes God is calling out to him, that he’s being set apart as a prophet, and he’s willing to sacrifice his firstborn to that end. Besides, the child is just a girl.”
At Close Range Page 23