Catch the Girl

by Melinda Woodhall

  Jacob’s voice grew softer as he said her name, and he cocked his head, letting his eyes wander up from her hands to the neckline of her simple dress. The heat of his gaze was impossible to miss, and Marie felt a blush spread across her face.

  “Yes, I’m sure I haven’t seen them, Brother Jacob.”

  Marie looked past him to the men and women loading the big truck. She noticed a petite figure watching them from the shadows of the big back porch.

  “Perhaps your wife has seen them? Sister Naomi’s right over there if you want to ask her.”

  Jacob didn’t turn his head. He just studied Marie with pale blue eyes that had suddenly turned colder than the icy wind blowing in from the river. Pulling her sweater tighter around her, Marie stood, then bent to lift the basket. She could feel Jacob watching her as she adjusted the basket against one hip and walked past him. His words stopped her halfway to the barn.

  “I’m the leader here now, whether everyone likes it or not. I made a promise to my father to watch after this place, and I intend to keep it. So, if members of my congregation go missing, it’s my duty to find them.”

  Marie nodded without looking back, her eyes wet with sudden tears at the mention of Jacob’s father.

  “Of course, Brother Jacob. I understand.”

  She moved briskly toward the barn, not wanting anyone to see her before she had a chance to wipe away the tears. The time was past to mourn Father Jed. He’d been gone for over a year, and she and the rest of the congregation had to move on and accept Jacob in his new role. It was what Father Jed had wanted; his dying wish was to see his son at the helm of the commune he had so lovingly created during the last twenty years.

  Marie hung her basket on a hook in the barn then blotted her wet eyes on the sleeve of her sweater. Scolding herself for her weakness, she turned to a wooden bin and scooped out an armful of carrots to add to the basket.

  If only you were still here, Father Jed. You’d know what to do.

  Marie smiled at the remembered face of the dear old preacher. He’d saved her during the lowest moment of her life, and then suddenly he’d been gone. Her smile faded.

  But you were wrong about Jacob. He’s not the man you wanted him to be, Father Jacob. He’s not…you.

  A sick feeling settled into Marie’s stomach. In the end Father Jed had been like everyone else who’d left her or let her down. He was no different than her father or her mother after all.

  Straining under the weight of the overloaded basket, Marie emerged from the barn just as Eli pushed one last crate of broccoli into the truck and pulled down the sliding door, ready to leave for the day’s deliveries. He called out to a thin man with fuzzy red hair and worried eyes who had been helping to load the truck.

  “Zac…come on…time to go.”

  The young man jogged over to the truck and climbed into the passenger’s seat without a reply. Before Eli could hoist himself into the driver’s seat, Jacob appeared by his side, a bulky carryall slung over one muscular shoulder. He whispered into Eli’s ear then handed him the bag.

  Something about the furtive exchange between the two men caused Marie’s already heightened sense of unease to grow. She kept her eyes on the truck as it rolled out of the gates and headed toward Highway 42.

  For the first time since she’d arrived at the commune, Marie wished she was the one leaving. The big fence and solid walls that had always made her feel safe and protected were beginning to feel more like a prison than a refuge.

  Chapter Four

  Jacob Albright watched the truck disappear around the bend, unsure if Eli Dunkel could be trusted with the assignment he’d been given. The young man had proven to be a loyal member of the commune so far, but he could be hot-headed, and lately he’d been unpredictable.

  Jacob cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, suddenly wondering if Eli had started dipping into the supply of pills and powder they stored and transported along with the crates of organically grown vegetables.

  It’s the oldest story in the book isn’t it? Some idiot gets hooked on his own stash and screws everything up?

  But Jacob hadn’t gotten any complaints that the deliveries had been tampered with, and he wasn’t even sure Eli knew what was in the big carryalls they used. They’d never talked specifics, and Eli wasn’t the type to ask many questions. He’d been told to make the deliveries and not let anyone else know. So far, he’d done as he’d been told.

  Jacob wasn’t sure what it was about Eli that had been bugging him. Something just seemed off. He finally turned away, deciding it didn’t matter one way or the other.

  What other choice do I have? He could be a fucking psychopath for all I know. Doesn’t matter to me so long as he makes the deliveries and keeps his mouth shut.

  Jacob sat down on the steps leading up to the main house, wanting a minute alone to relax, his nerves still on edge after the nasty shock he’d gotten that morning.

  Shrill voices had sounded in the yard below his window just after sunrise, and he’d jumped up with a start, sure that the compound was being raided. He’d peeked through the curtains, expecting a swarm of black-vested DEA agents, but saw that the front gate was still securely locked and that the long driveway was empty. His new business operation hadn’t been uncovered, at least not yet.

  Another excited voice from below had penetrated the still room.

  “…and Sister Candace is gone, too. Her bed hasn’t been slept in.”

  Naomi had stirred then, sitting up in their big, four-poster bed, her dark curls forming a halo around her angelic face. The green eyes that had sparkled with happiness on their wedding day now shone with an emotion that was harder for him to read.

  “Sister Candace is gone.” Her voice was flat. “I guess that must spoil your plans for the day.”

  She’d turned away, as if to go back to sleep, and Jacob had quickly dressed and pounded down the stairs two at a time, his anger growing with every step.

  That little bitch had better not be playing some silly game.

  But he soon confirmed for himself that Candace Newbury was not hiding in any of the buildings, gardens or sheds that made up the sprawling compound. She was in fact missing, along with her friend, Ruth Culvert.

  Both girls had been seen in their rooms before lights out the previous evening, but their rooms were empty by the time they were summoned for breakfast duty that morning.

  Jacob was sure they hadn’t gone out during the night, at least not through the front gate; he fastened the big bolt each evening himself.

  The girls had simply vanished.

  The front door opened. Slow, dragging footsteps sounded on the porch behind him, but Jacob didn’t look around.

  “You find those girls, yet?”

  “No, Ma, I didn’t. I guess they’ve run off.”

  He heard his mother settle herself into the big rocker she’d taken to sitting in most days, and he finally turned to look at her. What he saw worsened his already sour mood.

  Verity Albright had been a healthy, vibrant woman when Jacob returned to the CSL commune two years before, but the glow had faded from her face in the year since her husband’s death, and she now looked considerably older than her sixty-five years. And worse than her worn appearance, was the vacant look in her eyes.

  The bright blue eyes that had been quick to notice his misbehavior as a child, and just as quick to forgive him any transgression, now seemed washed-out and empty. How had it gotten to this point?

  “Ma, you feelin’ all right?”

  He watched her, noting the way her hands clutched at the arms of the wooden rocker, her knitting needles forgotten in her lap as she rocked quickly back and forth.

  “I’m fine, Jed. Quit fussing.”

  Jacob’s stomach dropped, and he shook his head again.

  “Ma, it’s me, Jacob. Daddy’s gone. You know that.”

  Verity looked up and smiled uncertainly, her eyes confused. The rocker started moving faster, and the boards underneath squeaked
in protest.

  “Yes…yes, of course. I know that. Your daddy’s gone.” After a few more frantic rocks, she murmured, “He’s coming back soon though, you know.”

  Jacob froze, staring as his mother closed her eyes and balled both hands into fists.

  “He’s coming back to me, son. He told me so. He told me…”

  The door behind Verity swung open and Judith Dunkel stepped out, her worried eyes immediately taking in the older woman’s distress.

  “Oh, dear, what’s the matter, Ma Verity?”

  Jacob watched, feeling helpless, as Judith knelt beside the rocker and wrapped her hands around his mother’s clenched fists.

  “Ma Verity?” Judith’s voice was soft but firm. “Everything’s okay, but we need you to calm down. You’re going to be fine.”

  Verity squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head.

  “No!” she cried out, making Judith jump back in surprise. “Jed’s coming home. He told me so.”

  The door opened again, and this time Naomi stuck out her head. Her face hardened when she saw Jacob sitting on the steps, and she turned to the women.

  “Sister Judith? What’s wrong with Ma Verity?”

  “She’s just tired, I think. Sometimes grief is just too much to handle. It can make a soul tired.”

  Naomi nodded, her eyes filling with tears, but she didn’t say anything. Jacob dropped his eyes, guilt stirring at the thought of what his wife had been through lately, then giving way to anger.

  They’d all been through a lot. Hadn’t he suffered, too? He’d found his way back to his father after five years away, only to lose him. And his mother was now slipping away as well.

  Naomi wasn’t the only one suffering. She’d tried to trap him, and it hadn’t worked out the way she’d planned.

  Karma’s a bitch sometimes, isn’t it?

  Jacob stood up and stretched his long legs, wishing he was anywhere but at the little commune, surrounded by grieving, whining women.

  “Sister Judith, I’ve got some urgent work to take care of. Can you watch after Ma?”

  Judith stood and turned to face Jacob. She was a tall woman, almost as tall as he was, and her body was strong and solid-looking. Her thick black hair settled around a smooth, practical face and alert eyes that appeared amber in the morning light.

  “Of course, Brother Jacob, you go right ahead and do what you have to do. I’ll get your mother some herbal tea and settle her in upstairs for a nice nap. She’ll be good as new before you know it.”

  Jacob heard sympathy in Judith’s voice, and a stab of resentment knifed through him as he realized the woman was having to care for his mother because his own wife wouldn’t. He turned to glare at Naomi, his resentment building as he saw tears had spilled onto her porcelain skin.

  “Thank you, Sister Judith. You’re a real big help.”

  He ignored Naomi’s tears, pushing past her into the hall, needing to get away from the prying eyes that seemed to always surround him. He hurried into his office, locked the door behind him, and collapsed into the desk chair. When he raised his eyes, he was staring at the framed photo of his father that hung on the opposite wall.

  I did it again, Dad. I’ve screwed everything up all over again.

  Jacob wasn’t sure how he’d gotten himself into his current situation. He’d come back to the commune after five years away. He rarely told anyone where he’d been during those long years, and his parents had never rubbed it in. They’d welcomed him back with open arms, the beloved prodigal son returning to the fold.

  At first it had all seemed so right. He’d gotten his life in order; he’d stopped partying and started working. He’d tried to stay on the straight and narrow.

  But then boredom set in, and pretty little Naomi got under his skin. She distracted him; manipulated him. Before he knew it, she was pregnant and he was standing in front of his father promising to love, honor and cherish a girl that had already started to get on his nerves.

  I tried to do the right thing for once, Dad. I wanted to please you.

  Unfortunately, his father hadn’t stayed around to witness his sacrifice and selflessness for long. His father, a robust man who’d still had a thick head of white hair, and who had turned seventy only the month before, had dropped down dead without warning. Everything Jacob had given up in order to please his father had been for nothing.

  Jacob opened the desk drawer and pulled out the thin laptop he kept hidden away. The congregation would be shocked to know he’d been using the computer and a smartphone, both of which were against the commune’s long-standing rules.

  Jedidiah Albright had founded the Congregation of Supreme Love just before the turn of the millennium, driven by a growing aversion to the worldly vices and temptations he felt had ruined society. The ominous talk about computer viruses that would throw the world into chaos on the first day of the new millennium scared him. He had decided to completely outlaw computers and any other electronic gadget that would allow the outside world to corrupt their refuge.

  As Father Jed had told his adoring flock over and over, he wanted the CSL compound to be an oasis in a sea of sin. He believed the little community could offer peace and light in a world otherwise covered in conflict and darkness.

  Turns out that some of us like a little sin, Dad.

  Jacob opened the computer and clicked on a camera icon. As the application loaded, he crossed to the big framed photo of his father, lifted it off the wall, and slid it into the closet. He felt better without his father’s eyes on him as he returned to the computer and surveyed the screen, reading down the list of active options. Clicking on a link would activate a live stream view from one of the cameras hidden throughout the commune.

  Jacob felt a warm rush of blood throughout his body as he clicked on the camera labeled MFR. After a slight pause, the application opened a new window, revealing a small room with a neatly made twin bed and a small dresser.

  A slim woman sat on the bed reading a book. She wore a pale pink shift dress, and her long dark hair hung over one graceful shoulder. Jacob swallowed hard at the memory of what lay underneath the delicate material.

  “Night can’t come too soon, sweet Marie,” he whispered to the unsuspecting woman displayed on the screen.

  He watched as Marie stood and dropped the book on the bedside table. She paused, then opened a drawer and reached under the folded clothes inside to pull out a torn piece of newspaper.

  “What the hell is that?” Jacob murmured, curious about the quiet girl that seemed content to pick vegetables and do chores.

  For the first time he wondered what Marie Ferguson hoped to find at CSL. With her looks she could likely have any man she wanted.

  So, why’s she wasting time around here?

  The girl touched the paper with one finger, tracing the words. After a few seconds she tucked the newspaper back in her drawer and closed it. Jacob watched until Marie left the room.

  Looks like somebody besides me has a little secret.

  Chapter Five

  The bright blue Neon Prius sped along Highway 42, cutting in and out of the long-haul semis, dusty pickups and loaded-up RVs that used the county road as a shortcut over to Florida’s west coast. A long, loud blast sounded from an eighteen-wheeler that had suddenly materialized behind the Prius. Pete Barker was tempted to give the old trucker a middle-finger salute.

  Stay focused, Barker. Pissing off some trucker isn’t going to help you find Taylor any faster.

  Ignoring the truck now glued to his bumper, Barker kept the car humming along at seventy until he saw the sign for his exit. He steered toward the offramp and headed west. Two uneven lanes of cracked asphalt made up the rural road, and a faded billboard on his right announced that he was two miles away from the Cottonmouth Wetlands Preserve.

  Barker slowed down and began looking for his turn-off. Minutes later he was pulling into the surprisingly busy parking lot of the Little Gator Creek Diner. A neon sign blinked off and on, illuminating a gr
inning alligator that had seen better days.

  Barker’s pulse started to race at the thought of walking inside. What would he say if Taylor was in there?

  And how the hell am I going to cope if she isn’t?

  The need to find his daughter, to make sure she was safe and well, had intensified in the aftermath of his investigation into two cold case murders. He’d uncovered a serial killer’s lair, along with a heartbreaking photo collection of young, female victims. For one terrifying moment Barker had thought Taylor was one of the girls in the photos.

  The pain he’d felt then had been worse than the heart attack he’d suffered the previous year, and once he’d realized that the girl in the photo was not Taylor, and that his only child was still alive, still out there somewhere, he’d been on a mission to find her.

  Whatever disagreements they’d had, and whatever painful things they’d said, no longer mattered. His baby girl was alone in the kind of world that produced killers like Douglas Kramer and Adrian Bellows: monsters that disguised themselves as men and blended into society. Innocent young girls like Taylor, girls on their own, would be seen as easy targets.

  A black Dodge pickup truck pulled into the space next to Barker. Three men in baseball caps, jeans and work boots stepped out, slamming the doors behind them as they hurried toward the diner. The driver paused and studied the little blue car suspiciously, pushing up the brim of his bright orange Florida Gators baseball cap to get a better look at Barker.

  Barker raised a hand in greeting and pasted on a broad smile. The man frowned, then nodded and turned to walk toward the diner.

  Not used to strangers around here I guess.

  He picked up the folder on the passenger seat, tucked it under his arm, and stepped out of the car, his foot sinking into a pile of moss and broken branches, his eyes automatically scanning the surrounding area.

  A thick forest spread as far as the eye could see, an army of unruly weeds and rough scrub threatening to encroach on the concrete parking lot and the narrow highway that cut through the thick foliage. He moved toward the diner, surprised to feel a shiver run up his back as the cold air filtered through his thin shirt and crept beneath the unbuttoned collar.