The Rapture of Omega (14 page)

Michael was waiting up for me. No surprise, as he usually did. After checking on the kids, I filled him in on the night’s events. He was horrified.

“Okay, first of all, to even ask why you went down there alone is wasting my time, right?”

I nodded.

He shook his head. “So you lied to me about doing the paperwork?”

“Move on, Michael.”

He took a deep breath. “Are you sure they were having actual sex, I mean, could you actually
see
—you know what I mean. Maybe they were just all naked engaging in some type of tribal dance or something.” He shrugged.

I glared. “If you would like me to get into specifics, I’d be happy to. It’s probably better than the greatest issue of
Penthouse
Forum ever published.”

“Maybe later, when we’re both naked.” He smiled. “This is pretty disturbing. Are you sure they’re not involving the children at all? That’s usually the way these cults work, similar to the polygamist ranches and FLDS. The cults are essentially a cloak for pedophilia. And there is such a thing as women pedophiles.”

As if I didn’t know.

“That’s not all of it, Michael,” I began. “They killed Lola’s mother and the other two men. Illeana and the Children of Eden are responsible for the three homicides I’ve been working on.”

He was speechless for a few seconds.

“Exactly why do you believe they’re responsible?”

“I’ll tell you, just keep an open mind.”

He raised an eyebrow.

I grabbed my briefcase and took out all of my notes before laying them on the kitchen table side by side.

“I’ll explain it as simple as I know how.” I cleared my throat. “Each victim was found with a tattoo of an
O
on their left shoulder. The Children of Eden, as you know, worship the biblical character Eve, and refer to her as the Omega. Omega, the twenty-fourth letter in the Greek alphabet, is also referred to as the ‘Great O.’ Omega also represents the number 800. The cult has the number O-800-24 on their wall and I initially thought the number began with a zero, when in fact it is an
O.
You with me so far?”

“I’m with you. Keep going.” He winked.

I smiled affectionately. “Now, as you also know, the Children of Eden’s fashion wear resembles the Amish or Mennonites. Edward Honeycutt’s wallet contained several receipts from a local grocery store in Butler where these ‘Amish-looking’ people have been frequenting lately—I think it’s Illeana’s group. Benjamin Rader was dropped off in front of the motel office where he was found by an Amish-looking guy and…”

I was interrupted by the sound of crackling thunder so loud it shook the house and made me jump. It was mere seconds before the screams came from upstairs. Isabelle hated storms, but Selina was worse. With both of them screaming, Lola woke up and added her two cents. No word from Sean.

“The wind’s really picking up.” Michael looked out the window. “They said the storm tonight is supposed to be severe, possibly tornadoes. Why don’t you go up and bring the kids down here?”

As if I needed to be told. I was already on my way. By the time I got the kids, Michael had come up to help me. The wind was blowing so hard I thought the house was going to blow away. Michael was holding Lola and Sean, and I had Isabelle and Selina’s hands. They were crying hysterically, and it was a little difficult to calm them down, especially since I was so unnerved myself.

“We need to get some of these windows open,” Michael said as we walked down the steps.

As I neared the bottom, the two front windows to our right blew in with such force it seemed that glass was raining everywhere. I dropped to the ground and shielded both girls with my body. Now, all four children were screaming, and the wind was inside the house—and it was loud. At that point, I heard the tornado siren screaming. Just then, Rena found us.

“Grab them, CeeCee, and get downstairs!” Michael yelled. “Here, Rena, take Lola and go!”

Michael handed Lola off to Rena and picked Sean up. I was more scared at that moment than I had ever been in my life. I had been beaten, shot at, almost killed, and taken hostage but, right now, my kids’ lives were at stake and it scared the shit out of me.

The door to the basement was only several feet away, but it seemed like I was running to it in slow motion. I could hear more glass breaking upstairs and the wind howled louder and stronger. Yet, it got worse when the power went out. By the time we reached the bottom step leading into the basement, I was shaking so badly I could barely hold on to Isabelle. I’d never seen Michael look as
rattled as he did that very minute, and it scared me even more. He was usually the one that kept us all together, and if he fell apart, I didn’t know what I would do. Even Rena was crying.

Our basement had a large concrete storage room that couldn’t have proved any safer for a tornado. Once we were all inside and Michael closed the door, the difficult task of trying to calm the children (and ourselves) down commenced. Sitting in the small room lit only by flashlights, we could hear glass continuously breaking upstairs and what sounded like the house exploding. There was creaking and large thuds above us. All I could think about was if the house completely gave, we would be buried under an enormous amount of rubble for God knows how long.

It seemed like we sat in that room for hours. After the children eventually calmed down, we all remained silent. Waiting. Lola had me in one of her death grips with her face buried in my chest, while Selina sat next to me holding me just as tight. Michael had Isabelle and Sean in his lap. From across the room, Michael and I stared at each other in silence. Our eyes communicated, telling each other it would be okay because none of us was hurt, although our home was most likely gone.

“Señnor Michael,” Rena whispered. “Es stopped. Listen.”

We no longer heard any noise. The storm had finally ended. Michael looked at me, and I nodded. He would go scout out the situation first before we brought the children out of the room. In less than fifteen minutes he returned, smiling—a good sign.

“You guys aren’t gonna believe this but the house is still standing! Most of the windows are gone, but for the most part, it’s not too bad.”

I shut my eyes and breathed a long, loud sigh of relief.

“Thank God,” I muttered as I stood up holding Lola.

Michael was right. The damage wasn’t overly bad, except the house was in shambles. All of the windows would need replacing, and we would probably spend a couple
days cleaning up the knickknacks that had flown from the shelves and broken glass. Fine by me. Michael found a twenty-four-hour window repair shop, but as you can imagine, they were inundated with calls and wouldn’t be able to be at our house until the next afternoon.

I used my cell phone to call the department to get an assessment on the damage in the city, and was on hold for ten minutes. The dispatcher that came on the line was an old friend, Kerri Tilton.

“Hi, CeeCee! I’m so sorry you were on hold, but we’re getting slammed up here with 911 calls. People trapped, trees in the road, power lines down—you know the drill,” she said quickly.

“I can imagine, so I won’t keep you. I just wanted to know how bad it is out there, and if we know what kind of tornado it was. All of my windows are gone.”

“They’re out assessing the damage now, but after doing this for so long, I’m going to predict an F-1, just a baby tornado. The damage isn’t devastating, just the trees and shit like I said before. So far we don’t even have any reports of injuries.”

“Well, that’s good news. Thanks, Kerri, I’ll let you get back to work.”

I relayed the information to Michael.

“An F-1? That’s it? Christ, I thought a goddamn hurricane was rolling through here. I’ve never seen anything like it.” He shook his head.

“It hasn’t been confirmed yet, but that’s what Kerri said.”

“From what I saw on the news earlier, we weren’t even supposed to get the brunt of this storm. If it was that bad here, I can’t imagine what happened to the towns in the middle of it.”

I called Naomi and told her I wouldn’t be in since I
had to put my house back together. Their house was untouched, but all of the trees in the backyard were down. She said Coop wouldn’t be in either; he was going to spend the day with a chain saw.

With nothing to accomplish in the dark, we took the flashlights and slept in the basement. The children were exhausted and went right to sleep. Isabelle and Selina slept with Rena, while Lola and I were on a couch. Michael and Sean had the floor. I couldn’t sleep. I kept thinking how grateful I was that the children were okay, and how scared I’d been. I also thought how lucky I’d been that I hadn’t got caught in the storm driving back from Illeana’s farm. That would have been a nightmare.

I think I fell asleep an hour or two before daybreak, and woke to the sounds of chain saws coming from our neighbors. They were so loud we could hear them in the basement. So began our long day of cleaning up the results of the storm. The power came back on in the late morning. With all of the weather catastrophes, the power companies had learned to work miracles. The news showed the rural towns that took the brunt of the storm. They were gone—completely. Not a building, tree, or house was left standing in three of the towns. Several hundred people were killed. Again, I said a silent thank-you knowing it could have been much worse for us. I didn’t know how much more of the weather catastrophes I could take anymore.

My father, stepmother, Rena, Michael, and I went to work cleaning the inside of the house while the windows were being replaced. By late that night, you could barely tell anything had happened.

I was somewhat cheerful when I went to work the next morning. It was momentary. Naomi and the sheriff were waiting inside my office.

“Good morning.” My smile faded when I saw them. “What’s up?”

The sheriff looked grim, Naomi pissed. “Why don’t you have a seat, CeeCee. We need to talk.”

Naomi stared straight ahead and I noticed the sheriff had a medium-size stack of paperwork in his hand. I sat as directed and waited for the punch line.

The sheriff handed me the paperwork. “This came late yesterday afternoon. I called the judge myself to get it dismissed, but he said based on the circumstances, he had no other choice but to sign it.”

I looked down at the stapled packet—it was a restraining order. A restraining order against me, filed by Illeana Barron on behalf of the Children of Eden. I was in deep trouble.

“Since when do judges issue restraining orders against cops for doing their fucking jobs? How are we supposed to investigate anything if this is allowed?” I held up the order. “He’s setting a horrible precedent right now!”

Naomi blew up. “I told you not once, but twice, to stay the hell away from that farm and you deliberately disobeyed my orders. Not only are you
not
going anywhere near them, you’ll be lucky if you don’t serve a five-day suspension for insubordination!”

My jaw fell to the floor. It was my turn to get angry.

“Sheriff,” I said, ignoring Naomi, “these people are my
homicide suspects! I know without a doubt they killed all three victims!”

“Can you prove it?” he challenged.

“Not right this second, but I will—”

“No, you won’t,” Naomi interrupted. “They said you were found crouched down behind the barn, spying on them like some degenerate burglar! What the hell is the matter with you?”

“Do you even
know
what they were doing inside that barn, Naomi? I’ll tell you, and it’ll turn your stomach.” My voice was getting louder.

“I don’t even want to hear it.” She put her hand up and stood up.

“Excuse me! What is the matter with you two? Did it ever occur to you to wonder how these people who claimed they don’t have bank accounts, and little money, hired an expensive Columbus pimp attorney like Jax Zapone?” I shook the paper again; Zapone’s name was all over it.

“CeeCee, enough,” the sheriff ordered, his voice resonant. “No more. Look, you know I’ve supported you through more than I should have as an elected official. I did that even though it put my own credibility on the line, but”—he paused and produced a lengthy sigh—“I have to be honest with you, CeeCee—I think you’re wrong here.”

He looked at my desk, refusing to meet my hardened stare, a grim result of his words that pierced me like a thousand knives. I felt betrayed and slightly humiliated, only because I could picture Illeana seated in front of her followers, laughing as she told them I would no longer be visiting. My pride had been compromised, and I was pissed about it.

“Fine, it’s over,” I said stoically. “Is there anything else?”

Naomi and the sheriff both shook their heads before standing up to leave my office. As Naomi neared the door behind the sheriff, she turned around, the contempt on her face replaced by a look of compassion.

“CeeCee, listen—”

It was my turn to hold my hand up. “Captain, if this isn’t work related, I’d appreciate it if you would leave. I have other work to do.”

She nodded slightly and left. It had been years since I’d been so rigid and condescending to her. I’m sure I hurt her feelings, but at that point, I didn’t care anymore. I wasn’t accustomed to being questioned about my intelligence and instincts—it was a hard pill to swallow. Coop, with his extraordinary ability to hear through walls, came into my office.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear,” he said quietly.

“Is that right, elephant ears? Wonder how that happened!” I snapped.

I was perturbed at how my cheerful day had gone downhill so quickly and didn’t need any lectures from Coop. He was married to Naomi and took to defending her on certain occasions. Normally, I didn’t mind, except for today.

“You don’t need to bite
my
head off! I had nothing to do with it!” He helped himself to a chair, producing a scowl from me. “If anything, I’m the only one around here that helped you.”

“Then why didn’t you come in here and tell them I’m right? It wouldn’t hurt to defend
me
once in a while if you believe in what I’m doing. You know what’s going on at that farm is a bomb waiting to go off—you know it! God only knows what they’re planning to do and everyone around here is going to be very sorry that they stopped me from looking into it!”

He sat up straight and glowered. “The only thing I
know
is that group of religious fanatics are living together on a farm in the butt-fuck part of the county. Yes, they’re strange and weird, but the sheriff’s right! You can be pissed at me all you want for saying that, but seriously, when has a woman historically ever been violent in a situation like this?”

My jaw dropped to the floor. Even Coop couldn’t possibly be that ignorant. He wasn’t. He was playing the game—the game of politics and I was sorely disappointed in my longtime friend and partner.

I pushed my chair back and gritted my teeth.

“Three names come to mind: Susan Atkins, Leslie Van Houten, and Patricia Krenwinkel,” I said defiantly.

His face turned an interesting shade of pink as I continued and he remained silent.

“I know it was a little before our time, but I’ll give you a refresher course on who they are: part of the fucking Manson family! Ring a bell now? How’s that for historically
nonviolent
women? Those three women stabbed a couple a combined total of fifty-three times, carved words onto their bodies, and also killed a woman and her unborn child!” I felt myself growing angrier—I was yelling now.

“That was an exception and you know it!” he challenged, his voice rising to the level of mine.

“Really? After stabbing her husband with an ice pick, Laurie Wasserman Dann walked into an elementary school and shot six children, killing one, before going to another home and shooting one of the occupants! Andrea Yates drowned her five children in the bathtub, Aileen Wuornos was a fucking serial killer, and Sylvia Seegrist walked into a mall with a semiautomatic rifle and shot ten people, killing three.” I was screaming, clearly
having done my homework. “The female inmate population has tripled over the last decade, and you’re telling me that women aren’t violent? Get the fuck out of here, Coop!” I slammed my hand on my desk.

Knowing now was clearly not the time to engage in further debate, Coop clenched his jaw, kicked his chair back, and left. I was crazy angry at that moment. Holding my hand out before me, I saw I was trembling uncontrollably. They were wrong! All of them were wrong!

I couldn’t possibly concentrate on anything right then, so I grabbed my car keys and walked out. I hoped that driving around away from the station would help me calm down a bit.

August 1

The coming came and went without any sign of Eve anywhere. Some members left in disgust, their faith in Illeana gone. Only a few, though. She still has most of her remote-controlled robots. She claims her first vision was foggy and she misread the message. She’s predicted a new coming now, but says this time she was forbidden by the Omega from disclosing the date. But we must continue to prepare, for the time will be soon.

Several of the members continue to act strange around me. I see them glancing at me with disgusted looks. I don’t understand it. They couldn’t possibly know my secrets. Even Quint doesn’t know what I’m doing, or about my past. He believes in Illeana and is sure to leave me when this is over. It’s just as well, since I don’t even know if I love him anymore. He’s become a different person since we joined. I heard him last night, in Illeana’s room, making love to her—again

I don’t think I can take much more of this. After it’s over, it’ll be just me, Molly, and Sarah. They like it here because there are lots of other children to play with, and Illeana treats all of them like her own, so it’s not that hard for them. I was thinking about my brother this morning, and wondered if he would agree with what I’m doing. After what we went through, I’m convinced he would.

Last night was the first time I ever saw Illeana look so scared. She caught Detective Gallagher watching our welcoming, but mostly played it calm and cool as normal. After Gallagher left, I saw sheer terror on her face. Gallagher terrifies her, but I can’t put my finger on why. I think it’s funny. Maybe Gallagher sees what I see in Illeana, pure evil.

Regardless, Illeana ordered Gary and Connie West to stay in the apartment across from the police station full-time now to watch her and the others. I’m hoping that Gallagher knows who she’s dealing with. She’s my only hope at this point.

—R