The Blood We Spill: Suspense with a Dash of Humor (The Letty Whittaker 12 Step Mysteries) (26 page)

Beth leaned over the sill, snapping her fingers
under my nose. “Come on, come on, come on. We don’t have time for you to take a
nap.” I tried to bite her fingers, but she was too quick and I was in too much
pain.

And she was also right. I hauled myself to my feet
and flung my body out of the opening.

W
hen we finally
made it back to my room, I threw myself face down on the bed. After a few
minutes, I rolled over.

“This is crazy,” I said.

Beth, sitting on Priella’s bed where we dropped
the paperwork, nodded. “Let’s take a breather before digging into all this.”

“Can you feel how everything is falling apart?” I
said. “You can almost hear the community unraveling. You should have seen Father
tonight. By the way, where were you?” I rolled to my side.

She sighed and shoved the papers aside. “I just
couldn’t take sitting in the temple all quiet and submissive while Father
ranted. Lately, I’ve been feeling like I’m ready to jump out of my skin. I
snuck into the office and called Jimmy.” She rubbed her eyes and sighed again.
“Was Maggie there?”

“Nope. And that’s another weird thing. The meeting
was supposedly mandatory for the entire community, but I didn’t see her or any
of the people we’ve seen her hanging out with. How come we never see any of
them? Where are they staying?”

Beth held up the deeds folder. “Maybe this will
help. I’ll look at it in more detail while you’re stuck in the isolation
cabin.”

It occurred to me that Beth wasn’t aware of the
incident between Maliah and Rachel after the temple meeting, so I filled her
in.

“Everyone’s tense,” Beth said. “If the police came
and took Casper in for questioning, that would explain why Father’s so pissed.”

I sat up. “What do you think they want him for?”

“Gotta be related to the finances. I bet Father’s
freaking out about all his secrets coming out.”

“He’s certainly on a keep-your-mouths-shut-or-else
kick. I think Father was referring to Rachel when he was talking about a
serpent in our midst. She’s been meeting with the detective.”

“How would Father know that?”

“Cozbi saw her having lunch with him. I tried to
spin it that they were innocently flirting, but I don’t think she bought it.”

“Cozbi doesn’t seem to have told Father yet, or he
would have had her shunned or kicked out of the community completely,” Beth
pointed out. “Like Priella.”

“We really don’t know
what
happened to
Priella,” I said. “She’s just disappeared.”

“Maybe she ran away too.”

“I don’t know.” I took a deep breath, trying to
quiet my racing thoughts. “But they’re definitely lying about her going out on
mission work. And the really scary thing is they aren’t even trying to make
their BS sound plausible anymore. It’s ridiculous. Rachel was right. Priella
was being shunned, for crying out loud. They aren’t going to have her spread
the word for the church. That’s what I mean by unraveling. It’s little things
too. Like I don’t think I was supposed to room with her. That had to be a mistake,
and it means they were screwing up before we got here. Or at least before I
did.” I glared at Beth, trying to remind her who’s fault this all was.

She ignored me. “That might be another reason why
you’re being put in isolation so soon. Maybe Father’s trying to keep you away
from everybody. Especially if he knows you’re chumming up to Rachel. I don’t
know, Letty. I’m getting a really bad feeling about this.”

I didn’t tell her about Moses’s whip or Cozbi’s
insinuation, if you could even call it that, or that he was looking to set up a
sister-wives arrangement. I shuddered.

Moving to the other bed, I picked up the travel
file. After a few minutes I had the flight receipts spread out on the
bedspread. Four of the tickets originated out of the Twin Cities and were on
Spirit Airline. Father may have been in a hurry to track his errant
second-in-command, but the troops were going economy all the way. A lone
receipt from Delta for two days later sat among them like cat poop on a
pillow—an event I had actually experienced and would have preferred to have
forgotten. Despite that, a wave of loneliness for Siggy, poop and all, swept
over me.

Beth picked up the Delta ticket. “So everybody
takes off on the same day from the Cities except this guy. He went two days later.”

“Or she,” I said. I reached for the ticket. “Check
the name.”

Beth snatched it away. “Dallas Sims. Never heard
of him. Have you?”

“How could we? Father’s given everybody different
names. Isn’t that handy for him?”

“Yup. But they’d have to use their real ones to
get past Homeland Security. But listen, why would they send two people to Las
Vegas? And why are there only four of the Spirit tickets?”

“When we were talking in the dining hall the other
day, Rachel said Casper didn’t go, so we can’t count. Without Enoch, that would
leave five searchers.”

“Okay, so where’s the fifth, then?”

“I think that’s Adlai,” I said. “I bet that’s what
the other note is saying. Maybe he had to go to the hospital or something.
Rachel would have known that.”

“Makes sense,” she said. “That means we might be
able to match their real names to the four who went.”

“As to why they sent two people out to Vegas, I
don’t know for sure, but Cozbi told me Father reported Enoch missing there.”

“Then what the hell is his hand doing here?”

I shrugged. “Let’s work with what we have for
now.”

We leaned over the tickets. “We know from Cozbi
that Moses went to Las Vegas. If Gabriel went to Houston,” I said, tapping the
Houston stub, “that means he’s Steven Branson.”

The Vegas ticket made Beth snort. “You are not
going to believe this.” Her green eyes sparkled with laughter.

“Well?”

“Moses…” She drew it out. “Is Lyle Dicks.”

Our eyes met.

“How many—”

“Don’t say it,” I begged.

“—times do you think he’s been called Limp Dick?”

I hung my head and sighed.

“You gotta admit, it explains a lot,” Beth said.

Best to ignore her. “So, that means that Dathan
and Mark are Daniel Walters and Darryl Larson. One or the other of them went to
Chicago, the other to Philadelphia. Unfortunately, that doesn’t tell us which
man is which.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Beth said, leaning back on
her arms. “The real problem is if we’ve confirmed the whereabouts of those six,
it means the Delta flight person could be anyone. Casper could even have taken
a later flight. That would make him Dallas Sims.”

She heaved a sigh and continued, “Unfortunately, that’s
one of those could-be-a-boy, could-be-a-girl names.”

“Unisex,” I said.

“I just can’t picture Casper with a name like
that. If he had a boy-girl name, it would be something like, I don’t know,
Beverly, maybe. Or Leslie.”

Picking up the Delta stub, I sighed. “But maybe
that’s what the police wanted to talk to him about.” I examined the ticket more
closely. “Hey, Beth. This one used a different credit card from the others. I’m
assuming the Spirit tickets were purchased with the church credit card. But
this one’s different. At least, the last four numbers are—that’s all they
show.”

“I bet they didn’t want it popping up under the
church’s account.” She sat up, pulled the deeds file onto her lap, and began
paging through its contents. “The church owns an awful lot of property. I
figured it would, since Father’s always on me about divesting myself of the
ties that bind me to a sinful world. He actually expects me to turn my baby over
to him. Can you believe that turd?”

“Baby” to Beth, referred to her beloved “Gotta
Have It Green” Mustang. Father would roast in hell before she would ever give
her baby up.

“And check this out,” Beth continued. “Some of
these are registered in other names. Besides the church, our friend Mr. Limp
Dick is listed on two of them. Abraham Reynolds is on at least a dozen, which
makes sense, since obviously Reynolds is dear Father Abraham. But look, there
are more than
five
under the name Edward Nichols.”

I took the deeds she indicated. “Why would some of
the properties be listed under individuals’ names?”

“Maybe something to do with taxes again. Or
capitol gains. What it does tell us is that Father has to be pretty certain he
has these guys under his control.”

I heard her, but I was focused on something else.
“The cops called Maliah ‘Mrs. Nichols.’ So, Enoch is Edward. Father must have
placed an awful lot of trust in Enoch if he has him listed under all this
property.”

“It also explains why Father is kissing Maliah’s
butt,” Beth said.

“She inherits.”

“Yup.”

“But they can’t prove Enoch is dead without a
corpse, can they?”

“I don’t think so. Eventually they’ll need to
figure something out. Maybe they’ll have Maliah divorce him in absentia or
something. It’s not something they need to worry about right now, anyway. Enoch
isn’t going to divest himself of his properties. For now, they’re still in
Father’s control.”

“For now.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

B
efore the sun
even rose, Cozbi was tapping at my door. I had only gotten a couple of hours of
sleep, so the vision that materialized when I opened it made me jump. She
looked like a ghost in a long, flowing white robe and leather sandals. On
second thought, maybe it was Jesus. Neither of whom I was ready to meet before
my first cup of coffee.

Or in this case, weak herbal tea, which I wasn’t
getting, anyway. Refusing to detour to the kitchen, Cozbi led me to Maliah’s
cabin. She stood inside, wearing a matching robe and her usual frown.

Unlike Moses and Cozbi, Maliah was not into
austere. Although she hadn’t gone too flashy, she had decorated her space with
items of obvious good quality and designed for comfort. Though the colors were
drab browns and tans, the blankets were thick and looked as soft as pussy willow
buds. A half dozen pillows that looked like plump white marshmallows were piled
up by the headboard, making the bed look like a great big s’more. My stomach
rumbled. Before I turned away, I spied the corner of a hot pink book cover
peeking out from underneath one of the marshmallow pillows. Chick lit? Or maybe
romance? Whatever the genre, I didn’t think it would be on Father’s
approved-for-fanatic-cult-members media list. Maliah caught my gaze—or maybe my
smirk—and slid the book deeper under the pillow.

Baara was already there too. She sat on the edge
of the bed, bouncing and exclaiming over the cushy mattress. Maliah’s painted
hussy lips thinned in irritation.

“Baara, here’s a seat for you.” Maliah pointed to
one of the wooden ladder-back chairs she had placed around the room’s
perimeter.

“That’s okay,” Baara said. She grabbed one of the
pillows and snuggled it to her chest. “Your cabin is awesome, Maliah. I didn’t
know we could get our own stuff. I’m going to tell Casper to buy me some nice
pillows like these. He’s in charge of the money, so he can do that.”

Maliah and Cozbi’s eyes met over the top of
Baara’s head. I wondered if they had news about Casper’s interrogation.

Maliah, still frustrated, said, “All right. Fine,
but stop bouncing. This isn’t a jungle gym. And you…” She turned to me. “Let’s
get going. You need to be in isolation before sunrise.”

Cozbi’s turn to frown. “Maliah, please remember
you are merely standing in for Rachel. Father appointed me as Letty’s mentor.
Not you.”

Baara stopped pouting and gave a sly smile, but
Maliah was not deterred.

“Well, let me remind you that this is my cabin.”

“For now,” Cozbi replied. Baara’s grin widened.
“But again, Father assigned me. Besides, my cabin is only fifty feet away. We
can certainly go there if we need to. Of course, you’ll have to explain to
Father just why you thought it was necessary to ignore his—”

“All right, all right.” Maliah flipped a
“whatever” wave of her hand. “All I’m saying is let’s get going. You may not
have better things to do, but I do.”

“It’s an honor to prepare a sister for The Vow.”
Though apparently emboldened by Cozbi’s reprimands, Baara kept her comment to a
near whisper. Her gaze skipped away when Maliah’s eyes slitted at her.

Having made her point, Cozbi ignored them both and
began instructing me in the proper responses to Father during the Naming Ceremony.

“You’ll do just fine,” she said as she handed me a
dog-eared index card. On it were three bullet-pointed sentences: I lay my Self
before thee. I commend my Spirit to thee. I sacrifice my Self to thee. “You
only have to remember those three lines. You’ll know which one to use by how
Father asks the question. There’s only three. Just keep looking at the floor.”

“Your eyes should be downcast,” Baara said.
“That’s why the floor. You look down at it.”

I nodded my thanks for her explanation, and she
smiled warmly. Maliah rolled her eyes.

“I’m not really supposed to lay myself in front of
him, am I?” I asked.

Cozbi grinned. “No, you’re laying your Self before
him. Capitol ‘S.’ You’re saying you’re ready to reject your own comforts and
ties to this world to join with the Elect in preparing for the coming new world.”

“Gotcha,” I said.

“And then when you’re all done, you’re gonna get a
new name. Mine means, ‘Flame of God.’ Isn’t that cool?”

Maliah snorted.

“Okay then, let’s get your clothes off,” Cozbi
said.

Whoa. “What?”

Maliah snickered.

Cozbi shot her a repressive look and said,
“Genesis 2:25. ‘And they were naked and were not ashamed.’ It’s just part of
the purification.”