"A Murder In Milburn", Book 1: Death At A Diner (11 page)

“Exactly,” Nora said. “Mrs. Mullally, I think it’s time for me to pay a visit to Raquel’s family.”

*****

Chapter 17

Nora’s car was a spectacular waste, and yet she couldn’t help but be fond of it. A manual 95 Camry, with three owners before her, it was a dirty white on the outside with neon green faux leather on the inside that had been mysteriously patched over in places with pieces of denim torn right from jeans.
 

As she drove the ten miles to the ranch where Raquel’s parents now lived with the other cult members, Nora thought back to when she had first driven into town three months ago after ten years of being away. Home was supposed to be a place of simple love and happiness. Home was supposed to be where you were welcomed with friendly faces and open arms.
 

So where was home? Where was she now?

A flood of memories seemed to rush out of her, and combined with the sight of the snow-capped Tetons leaning over unending green meadows, compelled her to pull the car over.

She got out and leaned against the door, unconsciously mimicking the proud mountains.

Nora had been 18 when her parents died in the kind of freak accident no one ever dreams about.
 

She’d felt nearly numb when it happened. This wasn’t in her carefully laid plans. She was set for college, for a comfortable four year transition from teenager to adult. She’d made plans to go to a culinary institute, to maybe even go to Europe for a few years, and in the background of all those dreams, there were always her parents, like an anchor, celebrating each new achievement with her. They had been her life force, the very fabric of which she’d been made.

But a truck driver with a blind spot had extinguished them in seconds.

Afterwards, there was the funeral, and her smiling, predatory uncles, who’d plotted how to take over the property left behind. She’d signed what they gave her in a numb haze, unaware that she was signing over her parents’ estate.

The loss of the money didn’t pain her. It was far deeper than that. She’d looked upon her uncles as family too, loved them all genuinely, and their greed had made her feel like that love had just been a dream, all too easily wiped out.
 

In the months that followed, she’d been unmoored, broken. She’d done nothing but run into every self-destructive behavior that a teenager possibly could. Her childhood home had been sold by her uncles, and she’d found herself facing homelessness.

Until Raquel had saved her. Raquel, who’d lost a mother early. Raquel, who’d loved Nora’s parents as much as Nora had.
 

Raquel had held onto Nora, and Nora still remembered the words that had turned her life around.

“Run if you want to, Nora,”
Raquel had said.
“Sometimes running is the only thing that makes sense. But remember, you can either run towards a dream or run towards your own destruction, and you always have a choice where to head.”

Somehow, Raquel had sobered Nora, and she’d gathered herself together. Unable to bear the memories Milburn had held, Nora had moved to New York, and started working in the kitchens. She’d let her life be consumed by her one remaining dream, to eventually move back to Milburn, and to build a new sanctuary, with the best friend she considered her only remaining family.

Only now, Raquel was gone too.

Because Raquel had always supported her, Nora had never wondered before how her leaving town had affected Raquel’s own happiness. It struck her now, as she gazed over the fields that even though Raquel had made many friends over the years, Nora had been the only one she ever really confided in, and even Nora had been in the dark about so much of what went on in Raquel’s head.

Raquel’s own family had been destroyed too. First, when her mother died, then when her father married a woman Raquel despised. What had it been like for Raquel, to live so close to a family she hardly interacted with? When she and Nora spoke on the phone, their conversations were never about the past. The two of them had only ever spoken of their dreams for the future. That had given them strength. The past was over, and it was too painful to speak about.

But perhaps, somehow, Raquel’s past had caught up with her.

Nora drove to the ranch where the cult members lived, and waited by the heavy iron gates to be let in.

The Church of Supreme Truth
. It had started a long time ago, as a simple, tight-knit church, with a charismatic preacher, Stanley Staten. There were rumors that he had gotten excommunicated when he was caught messing about with the finances of the church, but that was after Nora had already left Milburn. The excommunication hadn’t stopped Stanley – he’d simply begun his own cult, and even found a few dozen followers somehow. Followers including Raquel’s father and stepmother.

How had Raquel reacted? She’d brushed it off as just another kooky belief her stepmother was indulging in. Nora had only heard her mention it in passing.

Bringing herself back to the present, Nora rang the bell next to the gates and waited. A speaker crackled to life next to her.

“Who enters here, best do so with clean heart,” a nervous young voice said.

“My name is Nora Newberry, I’m just here to speak to Raquel’s father… um… Davis Madden.”
 

There was static on the speaker, but she heard a buzz, and the large gates slowly rolled to the side.
 

The ranch was a slightly dilapidated place, the white fence patchy with pieces of damp, rotten wood, and the roof itself looking shaggy and unkempt as unbrushed hair. Still, it had been a grand ranch in its time, and looked it, spread out in a straight wooden line with windows at regular intervals.

Nora had left her car parked outside, and walked to the main door, taking her time to observe the grounds. Broken marble statues lay littered all around, looking eerily beautiful with flowery vines creeping on and around them.

A giant statue of an outstretched hand stood outside the main door, with bits of marble broken off from it. Nora paused to read the inscription at its bottom:

Life is a question. The Supreme Truth is the answer.

The main door opened, and an old man and woman stepped out. The man was dressed in black pants and a yellowing white shirt while the woman wore a pastel 1960s style dress that hung loose and went down to her ankles. Nora jolted, recognizing Raquel’s father and stepmother.
 

She’d remembered them both as the people she’d left behind ten years ago, a heavy woman with permed red hair and a skinny man with bad teeth and Raquel’s bright blue eyes.

The blue eyes were all she recognized. Raquel’s father had aged so much. His hair had been replaced with a cleanly shaven head, and wrinkles warped his once sharp features. As for Jolene, she was no longer heavy. She was as frail as a bird, with a faraway dreamy look in her eyes.

Looking at them, Nora felt pity for them both and regretted telling Sean the things she had about Raquel disliking them.

“How can we help you?” Jolene asked, taking Nora’s hand and leading her towards a large sofa on the porch. Davis limped behind her. Nora realized that the woman barely recognized her.

“I’ve come to give my condolences about Raquel,” Nora said. “Aalso to let you know that I’m here if you need any help at all.” She said the last part instinctively, and meant it. If either of them needed help, Nora would do her best to give it.

“Kindness,” Davis said, coughing a little. “You have a kind heart.”

“Raquel’s death was a sad event.” Jolene shook her head. “But the pain of the eternal sword will fall on all of us who walk the earth. There is no mourning the inevitable.”

Nora began to feel a strange nervousness creeping up her spine. Jolene spoke almost in a monotone, like a stereo system playing the tape inserted in it. Davis nodded along automatically.

“I wanted to ask you if…” Nora knew they’d have no answer but asked anyway. “I wanted to ask if you knew anyone that wanted to harm Raquel.”

“Raquel wanted to harm Raquel,” Jolene said. “We tried so to explain to her the way of supreme truth, to help her see that her ways would lead only to the eternal sword and the abyss beyond.”

It was a bright sunny day, Nora told herself. There was no cause for her to shiver, no need for her to feel as if a grey fog were choking her. Had ten years of indoctrination driven them so insane that they could not even comprehend or regret the death of their daughter?

“Raquel could not be saved. But you have come here,” Davis said. “You have come for help, and so we will give you help.”

“Yes, thanks.” Nora got up. “I should get going.”

Two men came out of the main door, dressed identically to Davis. Nora recognized one of them as Raquel’s ex-boyfriend, Jonah Ashburton. Behind him was a man in a black suit and a pastel tie.
 

Nora began to edge away slowly.
 

“You have entered our sanctuary,” the man in the suit said. “My name is Stanley Staten, though I am known here as Mahaan – the supreme one.”

“I came to ask Jolene and Davis where they were the night Raquel died,” Nora said.

“We were all asleep, as is our way. We do not let the darkness enter through our lids. We sleep when the light fades, and wake as it reappears each day.” Stanley said. “Isn’t that right, my flock?”

The others nodded their heads, mute.

“Jonah, did you see Raquel lately?” Nora asked. “The two of you broke up a long time ago.”

Jonah jumped, then looked at his feet and stayed silent.

“Jonah was with us, too,” Stanley said, stepping forward, and pushing Jonah behind him. “You come here offering help, and then begin to sow seeds of division between us. Many are the forms of evil.”

The four looked at her now, with rising suspicion in their eyes. Nora was aware, from the windows, of others watching her. She took another step back.

“It is the money she has come for,” Stanley said. “As always, it is the money that draws birds of prey to the house of grief. Be gone, for you shall find nothing here to quench your greed. My flock have entrusted me with their worldly possessions. I will not relinquish them to you.”

“You what?” Nora stared at him, confused, then realized what he meant. As the cult leader, his “flock” would probably donate all their worldly possessions to him, which included all the money that Raquel had. A substantial amount. A substantial motive. A voice in the back of her head, a voice that sounded a lot like Raquel’s, piped up that the money being gone meant the diner was probably gone too.

“You gave this man all of Raquel’s money?” Nora asked Davis, appalled. She stared at Raquel’s father, who rubbed his toe in the ground, and refused to look at her. Something about the defeated slope of his shoulders, and the tight smirk on Stanley’s face made anger prick at Nora’s heart. In a kinder voice, she said to him, “Davis, I don’t care about the money. But I’m asking you again if you need help. I promise I will give it to you.”

“False concern!” Stanley shouted. “Be gone, covetous witch!”

Davis muttered something under his breath, and Nora walked up to him.

“Be gone!” Stanley said, his voice almost a yell this time, and Jonah and his friend began to move towards her.

“Blink,” Nora said, in a rushed whisper. “If you feel you need help, if you feel you can’t say it, just blink twice, I’ll do something.”

A tremendous struggle seemed to take place in Raquel’s father. His body trembled under her gaze, and the shuffling of his toes increased to a hysterical frequency. But he refused to look at her.

With all her heart, she wished he would blink.
 

She felt a hand grasp her by the elbow and resisted the urge to strike at the man holding it. For a moment more, she looked at Davis, and whispered again, “Please.”

Behind her, Stanley strode up and put a hand on Davis’ shoulder. Davis turned around silently and vanished into the house. Stanley gave her a smirk now and raised his eyebrow. With one hand, he pointed to the gates.

Nora allowed herself to be escorted out. Her last step through the iron gates was assisted by a healthy shove, and she stumbled and righted herself as the gate shut behind her. Walking to her parked car, she felt more frustrated than ever.
 

Stanley had motive, but he also had more than a dozen witnesses willing to testify that he hadn’t left the compound. Come to think of it, he looked like he had enough control over his people that he didn’t, as Sean had said, need to pull the trigger himself.

Nora remembered now the disgust with which Sean had spoken of the place. But why wasn’t he focused on Stanley as a prime suspect?

She got into her car, gunned the engine, and felt the cold barrel of a gun press into her neck. In the rearview mirror, two men sat up in her backseat.

*****

Chapter 18

Nora felt panic beginning to overload her system and forced herself to take deep breaths to calm down. Her brain began to float as if she was in a dream. It did seem like a dream, really.
 

“Miss Newberry.”
 

“Are you the men who were parked outside my house the other night?” she asked.