Last Writes (4 page)

“Have you thought about what you’re going to do when we find Rodney?” asked Claudia. “Do you expect to just take Kylie back from him? Do you even have a place to take her?”

“They’ll stay with me,” said Kelly, turning to her sister with as serious an expression as Claudia had ever seen her wear. “Maybe I can start to make up for not being there for you when you needed me before, Erin. We’ll work it out. But first, we have to find them.”

“Thank you, Kelly. I’d be super grateful if you let me stay for a few days. But I can’t leave the church. It’s the only way we’re going to be saved.” Once again, Erin’s eyes welled up and the tears spilled over. “I hate this! I want to do the right thing.”

Claudia asked, “Are you
sure
there’s nobody your husband might have told about his plans?”

Erin hesitated, looking speculative. “You know, Rod does have a close friend at the Ark. I can’t imagine that James would help him do something like this, but I guess it’s possible. Rod might have talked to him and told him what he was doing. We were given a cell phone so we could call in while we were away, so he
could
have called him.”

“You don’t even have your own cell phone?” Kelly sounded incredulous and Claudia could see her frustration building. Her own free spirit couldn’t comprehend the lifestyle her younger sister had chosen.

“We don’t need our own phone. We’re almost always at the Ark.”

“Who is this friend of Rod’s, and how can we get hold of him?” Claudia asked quickly before they could get off track and start a debate about the relative merits of cell phone ownership.

Erin bit into her sandwich, chewing thoughtfully for a few moments before answering. “His name is James Miller. Rod and James have known each other all their lives; they’re as close as brothers. If he was going to ask anyone for help, it would be James. You know what? . . . Oh, never mind; it wouldn’t work.”

“What?” Kelly demanded. “What are you thinking?”

“It’s just that we’re holding a rally tonight in Burbank. James is in charge of the AV, so he’ll have to be there. He’s the one who sets up the projector and runs the computer at all our events.”

“A rally?” echoed Claudia.

“We have them every couple of months in different locations. People who are interested in getting saved come to hear Brother Harold. He opens them up to some of the TBL teachings.”

“You mean they’ll be recruiting new members,” Claudia said.

“Well, it’s more than that, but I guess you would see it that way.”

“We could go, Claud.” Kelly started to get excited. “We’ll kick some spiritual ass.”

Erin made a gulping sound as if her sister’s remark shocked her. Her present self-righteousness was a far cry from the fifteen-year-old runaway who had taken refuge from the mean streets of Hollywood at the TBL Ark.

“What?” Kelly asked, feigning innocence. “I meant it in the nicest way. We’ll pretend we’re interested in joining, and get this James Miller to tell us what he knows.”

Claudia had less enthusiasm for the idea. “That sounds like it’s easier said than done.
If
we go, let’s just talk to him directly. We don’t have to pretend—”

“No, Kelly’s right,” Erin said. “As much as I hate not being totally up front with Brother Harold, it’s better if you act like you’re interested. James is much more likely to talk to you that way.”

“Don’t worry, Erin, I’ll get him to talk,” Kelly said with a suggestive wiggle of her hips.

“You might want to remember, there’s a child at stake here,” Claudia said, irked. “The police may call Rodney’s note ambiguous, but I don’t like the sound of it—and remember, I’m not too crazy about the handwriting.”

“But that’s not how he always writes,” Erin protested, making Claudia wonder why she felt the need to defend the husband who had run off with their daughter.

“He printed like that for this note, so it’s significant,” Claudia said.

“Well, he doesn’t always print like that. What’s it mean anyway?”

“The printing is done very slowly and carefully, which indicates a stronger than average need for control. Block printing makes it easier to control the pen, and that translates into controlling other aspects of life. Then there’s the writing pressure.” Claudia turned the paper over and showed Erin the indentations on the backside. “In general, the degree of pressure the pen exerts on the paper—in other words, how hard you press down—symbolizes how much aggression you’re carrying around, and how much you act it out against the world. The pressure in this handwriting is pretty heavy, which equals a lot of aggression.”

Erin reached out her hand and snatched the paper back. “It’s not all that bad.” She folded it into a small square and pushed it into her jeans pocket.

Kelly threw up her hands in annoyance. “Erin, I brought Claudia into this because she’s one of the top handwriting experts in the country. But she’s got experience investigating crimes, too.”

Erin looked startled. “Crimes? We’re not talking about a crime.”

“I know you must be feeling conflicted, Erin,” Claudia said. “I’m sure you love your husband and don’t want to think he would do anything bad. But if he doesn’t always write like this, then the change tells me that he’s feeling extremely anxious right now; he’s behaving in ways that he might not usually. His taking off with Kylie this way is not all right, and you’re going to have to face the fact that he may be planning something that—”

“No! Stop! Don’t say it. Just find him. Please just find him.”

 

 

 

Erin had told them that the rally was to be held at the Marriott directly across the street from the Bob Hope Airport in Burbank, on the east side of Hollywood Way. Kelly’s Toluca Lake condo was only five miles from the airport.

Kelly drove, opting for the Golden State Freeway rather than the more direct route up Hollywood Way. Late afternoon, traffic would be bad either way, but she reasoned that at least there were no traffic signals on the freeway and they had a better chance of nonstop travel. They left the freeway and made their way toward the airport.

“It’s too early to go to the rally,” Claudia said. “I’m craving caffeine. There’s a Starbucks next door to the airport.”

“There’s a Starbucks every thirty feet in this town.” Kelly drove past the airport entrance and parked the Mustang convertible in the lot next door, where several fast-food restaurants had sprung up. She switched off the engine and turned to Claudia. “So, Claud, tell me. Is my sister’s brain squeezed all to hell?”

“You mean about this religion?”

“
Cult
is what I’d call it. It sounds so creepy—independent thinking not allowed; little girls sent to a
convent
at three years old. Holy freaking Mother of God.” She opened her door and twisted to look back at Claudia. The pensiveness was gone from her eyes, replaced by mischief. “Gotta tell you, m’ friend, I wouldn’t say no to a nice cold martini about now.” Then she laughed. “Oh, don’t look so worried, Claudia. I’m just kidding. I know I have to show up for this one. You don’t have to be afraid I’ll sneak off to the bar.”

Claudia climbed out of the Mustang and shot her a grin across the roof of the car. “Do they even have a bar at the Marriott?”

“Well, of course they have a bar there—it’s a major hotel. Besides, you know that if I really wanted a drink, the absence of a bar wouldn’t stop me.” They started toward the Starbucks and Kelly nudged her friend with an elbow. “Hey, I’m not white-knuckling it, Claud, I’m fine. Right now, having clarity and figuring out this Rodney shit trumps everything else.”

Claudia commandeered a couple of armchairs at the front of the coffeehouse. Kelly went up to the counter and placed their orders, flirting with the young barista, just to watch him squirm. She brought their drinks and Claudia shook her head, pretending despair. “You know what they call middle-aged women who flirt with boys, don’t you? Cougars.”

Kelly laughed and growled like a big cat. “We’re only middle-aged if we live to eighty. I plan to be here for at
least
a hundred years.” She turned to look out the store-front window. “You can’t see the hotel at all from here.”

“I wonder how many people they’re expecting at the rally,” Claudia said.

“The rally in the Valley. Isn’t that just perfect? Could you believe some of the crap Erin was spouting? You’d think my little sister was born on a mayonnaise farm. Wives have to
obey
their husbands? I wanted to tell her ‘thank you for sharing your remarkable misconceptions about the Bible.’ ”

“How would you know they were misconceptions? You were way too busy playing around with the boys in Sunday school to know
what
the Bible says.”

Kelly threw her a self-satisfied smirk. “You are right about that, Grasshopper, and I had a lot more fun than you did.”

“I know you did. I was a nauseatingly good child,” said Claudia.

“And, baby, you’re making up for it now!”

“What gave me chills was Erin talking about them putting Kylie into that program.”

“I can’t believe anyone would send a three-year-old to a convent. That poor little—shit, now I’m weepy again.” Kelly got up and grabbed a handful of napkins from the self-serve area and blew her nose. “Do you realize, the last time I saw Erin she was only a year older than Kylie is now. And now here she is, a grown woman, a total stranger. It’s weird, though, as soon as I saw her, there was
something
, a connection. . . .”

“I guess that’s why they say blood is thicker than water.”

“Oh, thanks, that’s just what I needed—a cliché.”

Claudia crumpled the paper from her straw and threw it across the table, hitting Kelly’s arm. “I wonder how Kylie’s doing without her bunny.”

Kelly batted the wrapper aside and said with pride, “
Tickle.
Isn’t that adorable? That’s my niece, Claud. No way am I going to see her locked up in a convent when she’s still a baby. Puhlease, what kind of life is that? That’s, like,
anti-
life. Erin thought she had a bad time growing up, but she’s re-created the whole damn thing. Maybe it looks different on the outside, but this cult isn’t really any better for her than living at home with mom was. And now she wants to give away her child? Talk about history repeating itself. In a manner of speaking anyway. What was she thinking?”

“I’m glad she changed her mind, even if Rod didn’t.” Claudia removed the plastic dome from her cup so she could lick the mountain of whipped cream on her Frappuccino. She wiped an errant streak of cream from her upper lip and replaced the lid. “It’s too bad Erin took back that note Rod wrote. Can you get her to let you scan it? I’d really like to see the handwriting enlarged.”

“No problem. I have flexible ethics. If she says no, I’ll just wait till she’s asleep and sneak it out of her jeans.”

“What kind of father can this Powers guy be, taking off like that with the baby? I wonder what she sees in him.”

Kelly considered her friend over the rim of her cup. “Someone once said that people are attracted to each other, not because they have a nice ass or a big fat bank account, but because they’re attracted to the other person’s wounds.”

Claudia laughed. “I’m guessing that someone was you.”

“Bury my heart at Wounded Ark. You gotta admit, Erin is plenty wounded, and Rod probably has a shit-load of his own wounds, growing up in that cult.”

“It’s nice of you to offer her your place.”

“There’s no way I could let her down a second time.”

“Still, you didn’t have to.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do with her, but I just know she can’t be at this Ark place.” Kelly frowned. “You heard her. I think she’s afraid to go back without Kylie.”

“I think you may be right.” Claudia freshened her lip gloss and stuffed her paper napkin into her cup. “Are my lips on straight? Okay, let’s go rally.”

 

 

 

They found a parking place in the self-park and strolled up the circular driveway past the valets and into the hotel lobby. An electronic marquee scrolled scheduled events. The Temple of Brighter Light event was being held in the main ballroom.

After navigating to the meeting area, they found dozens of people already milling at the registration table just outside the ballroom door.Three smiling women sat there, conservatively uniformed in ecru-colored linen jackets over plain white dresses, handing out glossy brochures. They were encouraging visitors to add their names and addresses to a sign-in sheet at the end of the table.

“Watch out,” Kelly hissed. “Mary Poppins at twelve o’clock.”

“Keep it up, Kel, you’ll get us kicked out before we find James Miller.” Claudia grabbed a couple of brochures. Temple of Brighter Light propaganda
.
Happy, contented faces beamed from the front panel; dire warnings of the end of the world inside. On the back, information about how to join and be saved.

Claudia made for the open ballroom doors with Kelly in tow. A clean-cut young man in a neatly pressed suit blocked the entrance. “Good evening, sisters. Have you signed in yet?”

“We have to sign in to attend the meeting?” Claudia asked.

The young man showed her a friendly smile that matched the registration ladies’. “We like to know who attended and how they came to hear about us.”

From her vantage point of five foot three, Kelly gazed up at him. “But we could write down anything, couldn’t we? Make stuff up.”

His smile never faltered. “I guess you could, sister, but if you’ve come here tonight because you’re searching for the road to salvation, why wouldn’t you want to tell the truth?”

“You’ve got a point there, smiley.” Kelly grinned and turned to Claudia. “Come on, sistah. Seeing how you and I seriously need to get saved, we’d better take our evil, wicked, no good, very bad souls and sign in, doncha think?”