Hidden Pearl (14 page)

It took a second to recognize the threat.  She looked to see if there were more, but that was it.

She thought about calling S.T. but no. This warning would not stop him. It changed nothing. He knew about Lane Brown, the disappearance of his sister. Maybe she should have told him Jerry’s warnings about George, but it would not have stopped him either. She clicked off the computer.

#

"We don't usually get much rain up here. I wish it hadn't done so while you were looking around," Peter Soul complained as he and S.T. returned to Soul's study after having taken a soggy tour of the facilities and grounds where the church was planned. Soul shook off his rain coat and hung it over a hook, then carefully repeated the process with his hat.

"No problem. I'm used to it, living in the wet part of Oregon. How long you been here?" S.T asked, shrugging out of his wet, leather jacket. He slung it over the arm of the chair he lowered himself into. His hair, pulled back tight by the usual leather thong, was soaked.

“Would you like a towel?” Soul asked rather than answering S.T.’s question.

“It’ll dry.”

"What did you think of our site?"

"It might work. Of course, it’d take soil, water studies. I’d need a lot more time up there especially checking to see if other sites would work better."

"Would you care for a cup of herbal tea?" Soul asked again evasively.

S.T. managed to restrain the grimace. "I'm fine." What he really wanted was a cup of strong coffee, but he'd already figured out he had no hope of that in this vegetarian, health food fortress. No wonder Christine had felt the urge to escape. Control was everywhere and in everything. It yanked hard on a man's nerves.

"The site I chose is one I truly feel will have the best spiritual power. I very much want you to understand what we're about here," Soul said with a broad smile. "I think it'll help you design the building, do the work if you can relate to our purposes."

"If I decide to take the job," S.T. reminded him.

"Of course. If you decide to work with us or we with you. Tell me what sort of ideas you might have?"

S.T. knew he wasn’t going to build any church for this man, but he had felt a few creative impulses as he’d walked around the land. "If," he said finally, "I did decide to take the project, I'd think you'd want an organic building, something that suggested nature as well as spiritual."

"In what way?" Soul leaned forward, his eyes intent on S.T.

"Buildings work with their land but more than that, they can either lead people into conversation or conflict. A building can fight against a man's natural impulses, his inner being or it can help him not only connect with it, but with others, with a spiritual dimension. If a building flows, has a living quality to it, it can help conversation happen. If it fights against that with lines that cause tension instead of resolution, it leads the other direction--to conflicts."

"Are we talking feng shui?” Soul asked. “I don’t want any foreign religions involved in our building.”

“That’s not what I meant, but feng shui is just recognition of what is. Somebody wrote it down but it’s not about them. It’s about what is in the way energy works.”

Soul seemed to chew over that thought. “All right, I think I understand. Tell me more."

S.T. put up his hand, palm out. "This is gratis as I don’t know if I will take your job.” He knew but wouldn’t say that just yet. “I may not be your man for assorted reasons. I work with clients whose needs I can meet. We'd have to take some time to talk about the project, about the goals of the church, about a lot of things that might not even seem important to you. Only after the initial consultations, some sample sketches, those geologic studies I mentioned, would I know if I could take the job, what my costs would be, and whether you’d want me."

"I already know I want you," Soul said, a satisfied smile on his face. "What can I tell you to make your end of the decision easier?"

"For starters. What went wrong with you work with Lane Brown?" S.T. asked, watching closely to see if he could startle an unplanned response from Soul.

"Pardon me?"

"I knew the architect who was working on this before he was--killed."

Soul's eyes seemed to momentarily darken. Was it in empathy? "Ah yes," he said softly, "I remember now. The poor man who committed suicide. That was extremely sad."

"Especially for his family."

"Of course."

"Lane was a good man, a great architect. It's hard to imagine his having a problem on your project."

"Really? Well, anyone can have difficulties, but we didn't actually have a problem. What gave you that idea?"

"Word gets around," S.T. said with a careless shrug.

Soul smiled his eyes intent as he watched S.T. who didn't look away as their gazes locked. "I really don't know how anyone could have gotten such a notion," Soul said.

"There’s always talk when someone dies."

"Talk never flatters someone like me. I am sure you can understand why."

"Do I?"

"In a small town there is a great deal of worry when a new group buys property, builds anything, let alone a church. Suspicion which is really fear. I have faced distrust and concern from some of the locals. I do what I can to counter that with positive publicity, working in the community, but it wouldn't do to let wild, speculative talk get out of hand."

"Yeah, well, I'm not much for talking beyond what's needed... if I did take the job."

The phone rang, allowing Soul to break his gaze away without losing face. As S.T. half listened to Soul’s end of the conversation, he knew he wasn’t going to learn anything from him. He left his chair, wandered around the office, studying the books lining long shelves. He knew from the glances sent his way that Soul didn't like his walking around, but the minister could say nothing without seeming paranoid. 

A large computer sat on a side desk, innocuous landscape paintings on the walls. S.T. Looked more closely at the books. There was nothing that would not be expected in any pastor's study--treatises, sermons, commentaries, and authors S.T. wasn't familiar with. Lining one whole shelf were books by Soul. He wondered idly if they were self-published.

He thought more about the computer. What might be stored there? Membership rolls? Records of transactions with Lane?  There were several jump drives alongside it. Nothing printed out lying loosely around the desk. In fact the desk was so neat, S.T. wondered if any work was done at it.

"Now then," Soul said, hanging up the phone, "where were we?" He walked to where S.T. was standing. "I noticed you looking at my computer."

Nothing much got by Soul. “I suppose you write sermons on it. Are you connected to the internet up here?”

“I have access.”

"They're handy devices."

"You design buildings on yours?"

"I use CAD some, but in the end, as far as I'm concerned, there's no substitute for a pen, paper, and drawing table. I like the hands on approach.” He looked into Soul’s eyes. “It would be helpful for me to look at the plans Lane had already drawn up, any studies he had done. It could save time and help me decide if I can take this job. Do you have any of those on the computer?"

Soul’s expression turned blank. "Nothing of his was left here. I have nothing. You might look in his office, talk to his wife perhaps."

"How often had he been down here?”

“Rarely actually.”

S.T. shook his head with pretend amazement. "I'm surprised he didn't feel more need for the feel of the site under his feet, that you didn’t want reports."

"He had a lack of enthusiasm for the project which I rapidly saw. We really hadn’t gotten anywhere on it with him."

"I thought you said there were no problems."

"I meant on our side. I don't think he was overly happy about designing the building. We had discussed his dropping the project."

"Before he was killed?" S.T. asked, deliberately using the word.

"Yes." Soul ignored the provocation. "Now then," he said, taking S.T.'s arm and leading him back to the main desk. "What can I tell you that will help you decide to work with us?"

"How many people do you intend your building to hold?" S.T. sat back in the chair. He hadn't liked the touch of Soul's hand on his arm and was beginning to understand what Christine had meant about the man’s compulsion to control.

Soul poured himself a cup of tea and again asked S.T. to reconsider. When he refused, Soul said, "I hope you're not a drinking man. I mean by that, alcoholic beverages."

S.T. smiled. "Why?"

"It might be a complication. I don't allow any on the grounds. Not caffeine, nicotine, drugs or anything that might be addictive."

"Stiff policy--especially when it comes to caffeine. I live on the stuff myself." He already recognized the beginning of a headache at not having had coffee since early morning.

"You should cleanse your system of the poisons," Soul said. "Very unhealthy, you know. Your body is a temple for God. You must treat it that way. You could have a cleanse with us."

"Sounds like something my mother would say.”

“Then your mother is a wise woman.” Soul’s smile was beatific. S.T. was beginning to take a real dislike to him and most especially to that smile.

"I don't drink... alcohol," S.T. said, "but if I do take on your project, you'll have to understand that nobody tells me what I do or don't drink—nor my men. I'm not joining your bunch."

"Of course. I wouldn't expect that. I would like you to understand what we do. You did prepare to spend the week-end here?"

“Not necessary. I could get a room in town."

"Nonsense. We have plenty of rooms. Our guest facilities are nearly empty at this time."

"You never did say how many people you need your church to hold."

"Two thousand would be what we need now with the ability to expand for more. I have a certain budget to work with and of course, I want things nicely appointed, so I may have to compromise on some of my greatest desires."

"Which are?"

Again that irritating smile. "Five thousand at a service. I see I've surprised you. There are nearly two thousand in the general area now. We have another two spread farther afield but who make pilgrimages to me when they can. I'd like it if we could build something which could be expanded in the future. Is that possible?"

"I don't see why not. A lot of churches are built in wings. Start with the central sanctuary, then add ells on both sides as the need arises. It's more expensive than doing it all at once but has an organic quality that allows evolution of the design as the need arises."

"Excellent. That's why I wanted you. I'd heard you were the best, Storm Walker, and I wanted the best."

S.T. didn't let his face give him away. Soul had either done research on him that went a lot farther than anything he was aware was out there or his name had to have come from Shonna. Had Soul asked his sister about her brother? He didn’t like any of this. Soul obviously did nothing by accident. His use of S.T.’s real name was deliberate. For a moment, he thought about directly asking but decided against it. He would ask questions of the followers when he got the chance.

"Have you ever had soil analysis or foundational studies done?" S.T. asked to break the long silence.