The Blood We Spill: Suspense with a Dash of Humor (The Letty Whittaker 12 Step Mysteries) (35 page)

Gabriel’s lips thinned when I admitted that Justus
had smacked me. He shook his head in disgust.

“Look, that’s not the big thing here,” I said, getting
us back on track.

“I just can’t… Rachel’s dead?”

“She was murdered. Stabbed, I think, but I guess
it could have been from a gunshot.”

Gabriel thought a moment, then pulled a cell phone
out of his pocket. He checked the screen, and shook his head, again.

“Nobody called you about it?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he started
pacing. At first, I worried he would be seen by anyone heading in this
direction, but he kept behind the van. His eyes flicked back and forth in time
with the thoughts racing around in his head. Justus had been easier to read,
but I watched the emotions transition across Gabriel’s face. Shock and
confusion, to start. Then a rising anger that set his face in stone. He came to
an abrupt halt.

“Father wouldn’t…” Gabriel stopped. Without
warning, he punched the side of the van, denting it. The metallic thud pierced
the air.

Heart racing, I stumbled backward.

Gabriel put his hands up, palms out. The sign for
safety. We both froze, though my heart still thumped against my ribs.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m not going to hurt you.
Look, I’ve got to talk to Father right now. I’ll see what I can find out about
what’s going on. I’m certain they’ll have already called the police in; if
Rachel is really dead, nobody is going to try to hide that. It would be stupid.
As for Beth, I’m sure Casper just overreacted to the situation. It’s possible
Father’s just reprimanding her for insubordination, but that shouldn’t mean
confinement. They’ve probably already released her, especially with all this
other stuff to deal with. ”

“If they were going to call in the police, they
should already be here.” I waved my hand at the deserted parking lot. “Are you
going to call them?”

His face looked strained, and he dropped his eyes
to the ground. “I’m going to find out what’s going on. I can’t… Let’s just take
one step at a time. Will you be in your room?”

“No. I’m not sure where I’ll be, but I’m
definitely not going back there.”

“Letty, I don’t think anybody is after you. I’m
going to need to know where to find you if I’m going to fill you in. And
considering everything that’s going on, I’m not going to have time to wander
around looking for you.”

“Yeah, well, we’ll have to agree to disagree on
that, buddy. Because I don’t trust any of them. And don’t forget that I slugged
Justus back.”

His eyebrows shot up again. “You did?”

“I might have forgotten to mention that.”

He smiled and said, “Good for you. He deserved it.
Okay, look— If you’re afraid there might be fallout from that, why don’t I meet
you in the barn?”

I shuddered, not wanting anything to do with the
barn, but before I could come up with Plan B, assuming there was one, Gabriel
had set off across the drive, heading to Father’s house.

Crap.

He hadn’t told me how long he would be, either.
One thing Gabriel had said made sense. Maybe they really had let Beth go. After
all, trying to call the cops in because of a murder wasn’t all that out of
line. Going all vampire on Casper’s neck might be a different story, but it’s
not like she didn’t have provocation. I decided it made sense to at least check
out her room before officially freaking out.

There were only three places Beth would have gone
if she had been released: her bedroom, the dining hall, or the kitchen. I
couldn’t imagine her going back into the office.

Unless… she was planning to kick Maliah’s ass for
whatever her part was in the brouhaha.

That could be fun.

The biggest problem wasn’t deciding where I should
check, but how I should act as I did. The anxious, skittery side of me favored
a mouselike, furtive skulking in the shadows. Unfortunately, it was almost noon
and there were precious little shadows. Not only that, but that kind of
behavior was more likely to draw notice than if I just brazened it out. After
all, if the reason they had snatched Beth was to keep a lid on Rachel’s death,
it was highly doubtful that anyone besides Justus and Casper knew all that was
going on. And Maliah, of course. And now Gabriel, but he was on our side. Or,
at least, not against us. Maybe.

At any rate, Father would try to keep the number
of people involved down, and those few were probably busy with poor Rachel.

Rachel
.

A wave of sadness crashed into my heart, and I
sank against the van. I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten about her, but my brain
was on overload just dealing with Beth’s capture and her subsequent
disappearance. I decided Rachel would understand—priority goes to the living.

Thinking about Rachel—her crumpled, pale body left
like garbage on the tile floor—allowed anger to push the ever-present anxiety
to the side. Not gone, but not in control, either.

Bravado it would be.

I straightened, squared my shoulders, and marched
around the side of the van to the lodge. As soon as I came even with the
building, I took a little break behind the bushes to hyperventilate for a few
minutes. But that was good, too. I now had a range of how far bravado could
take me. Apparently, less than fifty yards, but knowledge is power and yada,
yada, yada.

Out of the bushes and over to the lodge entrance.
Back to the bushes. More breathing into cupped hands.

Youcandothisyoucandothisyoucandothis.

If bravery couldn’t do it, maybe perseverance
would. Back to the door, and this time I made it inside. The hall, with the
office and the den on either side, was a dark tunnel. Light from the big
lakeside windows shone at the end like I was having a near death experience. I
didn’t know if I was more afraid of Jesus appearing or of Maliah popping out
from the office. Either way, I would have a heart attack and die. Although,
from what I understood, that might not cancel out the Jesus issue.

I reminded myself I had chosen nonchalant
innocence over furtive skulking and courageously set forth. Four feet later, I
hugged the wall and peeked around the office door. Empty. I resumed my unaffected
stroll until I reached the great room. Myrtle and two women I barely knew sat
knitting on the sofas before the unlit fireplace. They glanced up as I came in,
and I tossed a spastic little wave. They smiled and went back to their
conversation, their muted, pleasant voices like a balm.

I made it up the stairs and, after a much-needed
sidetrack to the bathroom, got to Beth’s room without running into anyone. The
door was closed and I stuck my ear to it. At first I heard nothing, but just as
I began to turn the knob, a drawer slammed inside. Without knowing why, I
froze. Beth?

Voices. Two men, and my bet was on Casper and
Justus. What were they looking for? I tiptoed as fast as my toes could tip back
to the stairs, then down them, and out the door. Like the wind, I flew, except
the wind probably didn’t have an erratic heartbeat and sweat-soggy pits.

The temptation to dive back into the bushes was
more alluring than the thought of a rum and coke but just as stupid.

I made it to the barn and slipped inside.

I
chose to hide
in a small windowless room filled with saddles and bridles. The smell of
leather was soothing, and I needed a little soothing. Unfortunately, the room
was also well insulated, making it difficult to hear what was going on in the
main section. I knew my choice of hiding places wasn’t the best, but the stalls
were filled with horses and, considering my past, the hay loft was never, ever
going to be an option. I sat on a wooden chest piled high with saddle blankets.
They were surprisingly scratchy. Despite that, I almost nodded off. I had been
operating on adrenaline bursts, and the aftermath coupled with the silence
worked as a sedative.

I almost didn’t hear Gabriel calling my name.
Before responding, I inched the door open and peeked into the main aisle. No
sense advertising my hiding spot if Gabriel had set me up. He was alone.

The aisle was at least fourteen feet wide with the
stalls opening off it and bales of hay stacked along the walls. Gabriel stood
next to the same stall Baara and I had talked beside. I peeked in. The
horse—Granny or Nanny or something—remained in the back of the stall, head low,
back leg cocked. It looked like it was sound asleep, standing up.
How did
she do that without tipping over?

I reined my flitting thoughts back to business.

I didn’t like our setup. Standing out in the open
made me skittish as hell, and I almost invited Gabriel into the tack room. For
a Marine, he looked awfully jumpy too. But though it made no sense, I was
afraid he would think I was coming on to him. 

“So what’s going on?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nothing good.” His voice
sounded resigned and a little weary. Sad, even.

I waited.

“Father’s claiming Rachel committed suicide.”

“That’s nuts,” I said. “Does he think she stabbed
herself in the heart? There wasn’t a weapon anywhere around her. And her hands
were clean, not a drop of blood on them.”

“I know. I checked it out. She also would have had
to drag herself from wherever she’d been hurt to the middle of the temple
without anyone seeing and without leaving a blood trail. It’s just not
possible. But that’s what he’s insisting.” Gabriel looked down at the ground.
“And, um, because she supposedly killed herself, which is a sin, Father says
she doesn’t deserve a Christian burial.”

“What does that mean?”

“In a nutshell, it means they’re not calling the
police. Father wants us to take care of the burial ourselves.”

It took a minute to process that. “So are you
going to dig a hole somewhere in the woods and, what, stuff her in it?”

Gabriel shook his head again but didn’t answer. He
took a step toward the exit.

“Wait. What about Beth?”

“She’s not there. Not at the house, I mean. The
only thing Father would say was that she was a… a spy for the infidels.”

“And what does that mean?” It couldn’t be good,
and we both knew it.

“Look, I really don’t know. She’s not exactly the
hot issue at the moment. I think Father just sequestered her while all this is
going on. Once everything is settled, he’ll prob—”

“Settled? Are you kidding me?”

He scrubbed his face with his hands. “You’re going
to have to look for her yourself. And then you two are going to leave.
Understand?”

Oh, hell, yes, I understand.

“Look,” Gabriel said. “We’re not all bad. There’s
just something going on. Something not right. We’ll… We’ll figure it out.”

He was gone before I could respond. I don’t know
what I would have said anyway.

I had only gone three steps when I heard something
moving around in the stall opposite. Baara emerged from the shadows.

Chapter Thirty-Two

“U
h, hi, Baara,”
I said. “I didn’t know you were, uh…”

She didn’t answer. She must have heard the whole
conversation between Gabriel and me, but I couldn’t be sure how much she
understood. We had been pretty plain, though. Suicide, blood trails, burying
people in the woods.

“Baara, I’m sorry. Gabriel and I didn’t realize
you could hear us. It, uh, must have been hard for you.”

An impish smile stretched over her face. “It was
hard,” she agreed. “I stayed real quiet.”

She sure had.

I walked over and sat on a bale of unexpectedly
prickly hay. I thought about moving, but Baara, trailing a musty sweat odor,
had already joined me.

“You must have heard some scary things,” I went
on. “I know Rachel was your friend. I’m sorry that—”

“She used to be my friend. Not anymore. Father
said I needed to stay away, because she was filled with poisonous doubts and
they could fill me up too.”

“Is that why you stopped the reading lessons with
her?”

“Uh-huh,” Baara said. A wistfulness crept into her
eyes. “I can almost read. I know my ABCs now and everything. Father said he
would find me another teacher, but he’s a busy, busy man.” She sighed.

I glanced toward the door. I wanted to get out of
there, but I didn’t want to leave Baara without learning what she would do with
the information she had overheard. There was no telling how Father would react
if he knew what I was planning and, worse, that Gabriel had helped me.

“Nobody should keep you from trying to learn,” I
said, distractedly. “Maybe you could explain to Father how important your
lessons are to you. Or you could just take lessons quietly. Like, on the side.
Nobody would have to know.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Baara said. Her eyes widened
at my duplicity. If she only knew…

“Baara, if reading is that impor—”

“‘Everyone must submit to the authority, which God
has established. He who rebels against the authority is rebelling against God
and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves.’ That’s in the book of
Rome. Father is my authority. And he’s your authority too.”

“Right, but Father shouldn’t try to keep you—”

“‘Obey your earthly masters with respect and fear,
and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ.’”

“Uh, Baara?”

She had started to rock, her eyes glassing over
the way they had during Father’s sermon when she had worked herself up and
hyperventilated. Fresh sweat beaded on her upper lip.

“Baara, it’s okay. I understand. It’s important to
listen to Father. I get it.”

She turned to me, but though her gaze seemed to
touch on my face, her eyes looked straight through me.