American Heroes Series - 01 - Resurrection (8 page)

CHAPTER FIVE

Her name was Coral Chastity Aames. 

The woman was a world-famous televangelist, complete with a pink-hued blond hair, heavy makeup and gaudy clothing.  She had hour-long programs every Sunday from her church in Costa Mesa, California where she did everything from tell jokes to perform what she claimed to be miracles.  The blind were made to see, the crippled to walk, and she would weep dramatically through the entire program as if her husband had just left her.  She was a boil on the butt of God-fearing Christians, but for some reason, the woman made millions and people flocked to her.  It was this woman who was the very first in line when the museum doors opened on Thursday morning.

Dressed in a navy blue sheath dress with matching pumps and looking particularly sharp, Cydney was up in the gallery when security personnel finally opened the doors.  There was quite a crowd outside and thanks to Stu’s logistical planning, the museum was prepared.  People gave their tickets and were immediately funneled into a chute to await their turn to enter the gallery and inspect the collection.  Cydney caught sight of Coral Chastity Aames at the head of the queue and, after a moment’s surprise, shook her head in resignation. So it was going to be that kind of a day.

Cydney had made the decision a few weeks prior to stick with the maximum capacity of the gallery, which was limited two hundred thirty people at any given time. They weren’t going to try and cram any more in because they didn’t want the Fire Marshall to shut them down, so security personnel kept close tabs on how many entered the gallery and how may left.  

The Resurrection exhibit was ready for prime time. Spotlights blasted their brilliance upon the case containing The Lucius Robe while strategic lighting and paint color lent ambiance and mystery to the rest of the relics. Cydney was standing with Stu just inside the gallery entrance when Coral Chastity Aames was finally admitted entrance into the gallery.  The woman in the bright pink and white jumpsuit went straight to the case containing The Lucius Robe.

“Oh,” she held up her quivering hands, wanting to touch the plexiglass but not wanting to get in trouble for it. “Lord Jesus, we praise You for Your sacrifice at the cross. Glory to God! Sweet Jesus!”

Cydney and Stu couldn’t help but stare at the woman as she began to pray loudly in front of the case.  People around her looked rather uncertain but she didn’t seem to create any real disturbance.  It was just odd and frankly comical the way the woman carried on.  It was quite a show.

“Do you want me to run her off?” Stu leaned close to Cydney’s ear; he was dressed in a crisp black suit and red tie and looked like an undertaker. “We can’t have that kind of disruption in the gallery. Milt will have a fit.”

Cydney shrugged lamely. “She’s really not doing anything,” she whispered at him. “Maybe she’ll just pray for a couple of minutes and leave.”

Stu snorted. “Have you seen her?” he griped. “She weeps and carries on for hours. I went to a church retreat once where she we studied her for an entire day; man, the things that woman is in to. You’d be surprised. She’s one giant bundle of menopausal hysteria.”

Cydney giggled and looked at him. “What would you know about menopausal hysteria?”

He pursed his lips irritably at her. “Lots. My mother has it all the time.”

As Cydney continued to snicker, Coral Chastity Aames continued to pray.  Anne-Michelle entered the gallery, her brown eyes wide at the performance going on in front of The Lucius Robe as she made her way over to Cydney and Stu. By the time she reached them, she was pointing a slender finger at the spectacle.

“I’ve seen that lady on television,” she hissed. “What’s her name?”

“Coral Chastity Aames,” Cydney said. “She has that big yellow-painted church in Costa Mesa.”

“Oh, right,” Anne-Michelle crossed her arms, still watching the display.  After a moment, she wriggled her eyebrows at all of the crying going on and looked at Cydney. “Other than the religious hysteria, is everything okay so far? Milt wants a report.”

Cydney shook her head. “The gallery has only been open ten minutes. Tell Milt that the entire terrorist world has not come crashing down upon us. At least, not yet.”

Anne-Michelle grinned. “Where are all the FBI guys?”

Cydney began looking around. “To tell you the truth, I’m not really sure,” she admitted. “I just saw three of them this morning when they briefed our security people. The rest, as I understand it, are mingling with the crowd; plus, there are four of them walking the property perimeter with dogs. I saw them out in the parking lot this morning.”

“All right,” Anne-Michelle cast a lingering gaze at the televangelist. “I wonder if I should mention that woman to Milt?”

Cydney shook her head. “No, don’t,” she said. “He’ll come racing up here and create a big scene. Just leave it alone. She won’t be here too much longer.”

With a grin, Anne-Michelle left the gallery to report her findings.  Stu grumbled something undeniably unkind and went about his business, checking on his people throughout the gallery and heading for the ticket takers at the entrance. Cydney continued to stand there, observing the crowd and finding a few familiar faces in regular museum patrons, when a figure was suddenly beside her. Startled, she found herself looking into a Dali-like canvas of black mascara and blue eye shadow.

“Excuse me,” Coral Chastity Aames was standing next to her. “Do you work here?”

Cydney tried not to stare at the garish makeup. “Yes, I do.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m the Director of Operations. My name is Cydney Hetherington. How can I help you?”

“Miss Hetherington,” Coral extended a hand with two inch long red nails. “My name is Coral Chastity Aames. I’m an evangelist from Costa Mesa.”

Cydney took the woman’s hand and shook it. “I know who you are,” she said. “It was nice of you to come.”

Coral’s big blue eyes welled with tears again. “I would not have missed this for the world,” she sniffed. “To think that the robe in that case was actually the robe worn by Christ during his trial before Pilate is simply overwhelming. I am overcome with joy and glory.”

Cydney smiled weakly. “Well, I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

Coral grasped Cydney’s wrist, raking her with the red nails. “But it’s more than enjoyment. It’s… it’s everything a Christian prays for; a great holy relic to support our faith.  Did you have the opportunity to touch it, Miss Hetherington?”

Cydney shook her head, discreetly removing her wrist from the woman’s grip. “No, I didn’t,” she answered. “It came to us sealed up in the box. We’re not allowed to open it.”

Coral’s raccoon-eyed gaze moved to the case several dozen feet away. “You’re not allowed to open it at all?”

“I’m afraid not. The Bristol Museum was quite specific. They’re afraid that exposure to the air and pollutants will damage it.”

Coral gazed at the acrylic case as if seeing something that the rest of them couldn’t see; she was staring at it with unnatural intensity. But Cydney didn’t notice the odd gleam or the way her eyelid twitched with tension. Everything about the woman was odd so one more bizarre ingredient didn’t make a difference. Finally, the woman looked back to Cydney and dabbed at her wet eyes.

“How unfortunate,” she said quietly. “I was hoping… well, I was hoping that you would allow me to inspect it outside of the case.”

It was a bold request, something that rubbed Cydney the wrong way. She didn’t like pushy people and she could tell, just by that statement, that Coral Chastity Aames expected special treatment from the rest of the adoring masses.

“No one can touch it,” she repeated. “But we’re glad you were able to come and see it on opening day.  We’ve had quite a lot of buzz about it.”

Coral stared at Cydney a moment before breaking into a plastic-looking smile. “You’re sure I can’t touch it?”

“Very sure.”

“Then I thank you, Miss Hetherington,” she said politely. “I appreciate your time.”

Cydney merely nodded and the woman headed off towards the entrance.  Cydney watched her until she reached the door before refocusing her attention on the gallery again. She didn’t think twice about the woman or her aggressive request.  It was just another visitor on an unusually busy day.

Out in the sunny parking lot, Coral removed her cell phone from her purse and hit the speed dial.  Putting it to her ear, she was almost to her car by the time the other end answered.

“I didn’t see Joseph but I think I have a brilliant idea,” she forewent any greeting and went straight to the point. “Look up the name Cydney Hetherington. See if you can get an address. Then I want you to call Joseph and tell him to seek her out.” There was a pause. “Because she has access that a security guard wouldn’t. Perhaps if properly persuaded, she would agree to our wishes. More than that, I want to know where the woman lives. Perhaps she has family, if you know what I mean.” Another pause.  “All right; let me know. We’re very close now and I’ll leave nothing to chance.”

She shut of the call and climbed into her white Mercedes E Class.  Driving out of the parking lot, she headed towards the freeway.

***

Joseph was positioned in another area of the museum on his first day on the job. Most of the experienced guards were in the gallery where the Resurrection exhibit was being held, leaving the very old and the very new guards stationed in other galleries.

Dressed in his maroon blazer with navy and maroon striped tie, just like everyone else, he was disgruntled at not being stationed in the big exhibit. But he stood dutifully in the corner of the East Asian exhibit, watching a few people trickle in and examine the sculptures.  Unfortunately, from this position, he was unable to see any of his colleagues as they came to view the Robe. Down in the lower floor of the museum, he was both hidden and blind.

He began to pace around the room, pretending to watch the few patrons that were there, but mostly he was just trying to figure out how he could get moved into the main gallery upstairs. Granted, he was new and hadn’t the experience of most of the other security personnel, but he was young and bright and figured that those attributes would work in his favor.  Moreover, there was a bigger issue that no one but him was aware of; the FBI had made their presence known and he was anxious to see what they were up to in the gallery above.

A Special Agent had briefed security personnel before the museum opened to generically inform them that there were potential threats directed at the controversial relic and to be alert.  Joseph had sat through the speech like everyone else, pretending to care when what he really wanted to do was laugh; he knew that there were no plans that he was aware of for any type of activity today or even in the next few days. 

Their plan was still taking shape; the biggest factor in that plan to date had been to get Joseph a job at the museum where he would have a global picture of the Robe and learn the intricacies of the security surrounding it. Based on his observations,
Die Auhänger
would plan their next move. There was just a few of them, anyway.  The majority of the group was overseas, waiting.  Much rested on the California cell and there was a significant amount of pressure.

Two hours into his shift, an old woman with bad dentures and black orthopedic shoes relieved him for his break.  Joseph found his way to the employee lounge in the underbelly of the museum but he very soon realized that he had no cell phone reception.  Wandering his way out through the main offices, he went out into the employee parking lot.

Reception was better in the open and he saw that he already had two missed calls. Both were from Nat. He hit redial and held the phone to his ear.

“So,” Nat picked it up on the second ring, recognizing the incoming number and foregoing any greeting. “How is your first day?”

“Uneventful,” Joseph replied. “But we may have a problem.”

“What’s that?”

“The FBI is here.”

There was a slight pause. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely. There were at least three agents here this morning.”

“How much do they know?”

Joseph shook his head. “I have no idea. An agent spoke to the security guards this morning before we went on duty to let us know that there had been threats directed at the Robe and to be on the alert. Beyond that, I have no idea what they know. But if they are here, then it must be something fairly significant.”

“Possibly,” Nat said, trying not to sound like an alarmist. He changed the subject. “She was there this morning, by the way.”

“She?” The statement didn’t register with Joseph for moment. Then realization dawned. “Oh, right,” he replied. “I didn’t see her. I have been assigned to the East Asian exhibit down in the bowels of the museum.”

“That’s not good,” Nat pointed out. “We need you in the main exhibit hall.”

“I know. What did she say? Anything of use? Damn, I don’t have eyes or ears anywhere near the exhibit.”

“She did mention something useful, in fact,” Nat said. “Do you know who Cydney Hetherington is?”

Joseph shook his head slowly. “No, I…,” he paused. “Wait a minute; I’ve heard the name. I think she’s an exhibit manager or something. There was a woman at the security briefing this morning. It might have been her. What about her?”

“I’m told she is the Director of Operations and that you need to get to know her,” the man replied. “She could be very useful.”

Joseph wasn’t sure he liked the sound of that. “What do you mean?”

“She has access to the Robe, Joe,” Nat explained quietly. “Perhaps if you were to come to know her, it might make this endeavor considerably… easier.”

“How do you want me to know her? Do you want me to date her? Sleep with her? Marry her?”

“I think a romantic acquaintance might do. You’re a good looking guy; use your charm. See where it takes you.”

“So you want me too prostitute myself.”

“That’s a little harsh but, yes, essentially.”