Last Writes (8 page)

“Your Ark is in Hemet, isn’t it?” Kelly asked.

He shot a quick look at her and Claudia could see Kelly wishing that she hadn’t revealed that she already knew the location of their compound.

“We’re in the hills above Hemet,” Stedman said. “I’ll give you directions; it’s easy to get lost up there. May I have your notebook back, sister? You know, I’ve just realized, I don’t even know your names.”

They introduced themselves and Claudia wondered how quickly he would dig up some intel on them. Considering the electronic eavesdropping, and the paranoia she had noted in his handwriting, she was fairly certain that he would want to check them out before actually bringing them into the Ark. As long as he didn’t dig into family background and discover Kelly’s connection to Erin, they should be okay.

Stedman spoke as he wrote the directions. “Our property is about a hundred miles east of here.”

“Isn’t there another big religious compound in that area?” Claudia asked.

“The Scientology people have a place there; you’ll recognize it by the blue tiled roofs. It’s quite an impressive piece of real estate. I’m afraid you won’t find the Ark nearly as large or elaborate. We’re a little more remote and at a slightly higher elevation. You’ll take the San Bernardino Freeway east, past Riverside.” He scribbled a few lines on the paper. “Here are some directions and the phone number at the Ark in case you have any problems.”

 

They had a quick and easy drive back to Kelly’s place. Most of the commuters had gone home to their dinner and other evening activities, leaving traffic blessedly thinner on the 5. As they drove, Kelly and Claudia chewed over what they had seen during the evening, and Harold Stedman’s invitation to the Ark.

“How much do you know about cults?” Kelly asked.

“I had a case a couple of years ago. Mayor’s wife in a small town up north near Yreka got involved with a satanic cult. He tried to go in by himself and get her out, got beat up pretty badly; broken bones. Then they framed him for something—I forget exactly what, but there was handwriting involved—an anonymous note. He hired me to prove he hadn’t written it. That was an easy one. It’s really hard to forge someone’s handwriting and he had an interesting way of forming some of his numbers that the forgers totally got wrong. People don’t think about changing the numbers when they’re forging. Anyway, to answer your question, I did some Internet research and learned a little bit about cults in general.”

“And you weren’t scared to go up against them?”

“Well, yeah, of course I was. But it pissed me off, what they were doing to him. It wasn’t right.”

Kelly honked the horn a couple of times, oblivious to the SUV in front of her. “Claudia Rose to the rescue! Were you Sir Lancelot in a past life, or what?”

“Yeah, that was me, the knight in shining armor saving damsels in distress. Which brings me back to our situation. What do you think our chances are of finding out where Rodney and Kylie are?”

“We’ve got to turn every minute of this visit to our advantage,” Kelly said. “The first thing we’ll have to do is track down James and make him tell us where that damn Rodney Powers has my niece stashed.”

Claudia doubted it would be as easy as Kelly made it sound, but she kept her thoughts to herself.

 

Back at Kelly’s house, Erin gave them a crash course in TBL culture.

When she’d heard they were invited to the Ark, her eyes had grown large the way Magdalena’s had when she heard that Harold Stedman had invited them backstage.

“That’s fantastic! You’ll probably be assigned to a guest room in the main house, which means you’ll be close to the computer room where James works. It’s right next to Rod’s office, downstairs. Everyone eats meals together, so that should be another chance to talk to James. You’ll have to watch out for Sister Ryder, though. Don’t let her get near you. If you give her an inch, she’ll sniff out that you’re not for real.”

Kelly asked, “Who’s that?”

“Lynn Ryder. She’s the head of security.”

“Hidden microphones aren’t enough? You need a head of security, too?”

“It’s an unusual position for a female to hold in our church, but Lynn had a lot of experience on the outside before she joined TBL. She was a top security specialist at a Fortune One-Hundred corporation. That’s why Brother Stedman gave her the job. We have to make sure that the people who come to the Ark have pure motives.” She had the grace to look sheepish as she said that.

“So, tell me, Erin,” Kelly said. “Are you guys keeping people out, or in?”

“Neither one,” Erin answered defensively. “We sometimes have guests—obviously; you’ve been invited, haven’t you? So there’s nothing to hide. And we’re free to come and go as we please, but . . .”

“But you just don’t choose to,” Kelly finished for her. “You’ve got everything you need there, right?”

Claudia jumped in. “Erin, do you have any ideas on how we should approach James?”

Erin sat down on the couch and seemed to ponder the question for a long time, until Claudia began to feel as itchy as Kelly looked.

“Come on, Erin,” Kelly urged, sitting down beside her. “You’ve got to have thought about this already. What the hell were you doing while we were at that meeting tonight?”

“Of course I’ve been thinking about it, but I didn’t know you were going to actually get inside the Ark. Okay, here’s what I think: don’t both of you rush James at the same time. If you act like you’re ganging up on him, he’ll be suspicious.”

“Well, duh. I think we could have figured that out. What else have you got?”

“Quit pressuring me, Kelly, this is really hard for me. I hate being deceptive, and Brother Stedman—” She stopped, seemed to rethink what she was going to say. “If one of you sits at James’s table in the dining hall, that should make him more comfortable. He’ll get to know you a little, so his guard will be let down.”

“Where’s his table?” Claudia asked.

“Each table has an elder or a minister—that’s the step before you become an elder—assigned to be the table captain. James’s is the table closest to the kitchen at the back of the room. You’ll see when you get in the dining hall. It’s to the left of the head table where Brother Harold sits with the governing board.”

“I’ll take James on in the dining hall,” Kelly volunteered. “Claudia can go after him in the computer room since I assume she’ll be working in the office while I’m getting edjumacated in TBL teachings.”

Erin shot her an annoyed look, presumably at her levity. “Please be subtle. And don’t take too long, okay? We’ve only got a few days before Rod will come back and want to turn Kylie over to Jephthah’s Daughters.”

 

 

 

Joel Jovanic shook his head, pretending despair. “Are you ever going to be
just
a handwriting analyst?”

“What are you saying?”

“I’ll tell you what I’m saying. In the two years I’ve known you, you’ve gotten yourself into more dangerous situations than I have in twenty years as a cop.” He put on a radio announcer voice: “Got a weird-ass job? Call Claudia Rose, handwriting expert. She’s your gal.”

Claudia turned from the fridge, a bottle of Heineken in hand. She poked around in the junk drawer for the bottle opener, popped the cap and held it out to him. “I don’t go looking for weird-ass jobs, Columbo. They find me.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

She took the seat across from him in the breakfast nook. Jovanic was looking pale and thin, as he had ever since a second surgery to take care of an infected wound. He’d been shot twice in the gut a couple of months earlier and was still recovering from the last hospital stay. The surgeries had adequately repaired the damaged organs, but left him with a serious intra-abdominal infection that had given them a big scare. He’d come away from the experience missing his spleen and six inches of intestines, but his surgeon had insisted he was lucky he hadn’t lost his life.

It wasn’t the way they had planned for Claudia to meet his mother and sister, who had flown in from northern California to hold a vigil at his bedside, but the women had formed a bond in the hospital waiting room. Claudia admired the strength she saw in his mother, who had lost her husband many years ago to a street thug. Her children had inherited that strength.

Once he was lucid enough to receive instructions, Jovanic’s surgeon had warned him that full recovery would take another two to three months—
if
he behaved himself.

He had proved not to be a good patient. He was chomping at the bit to get back to work, but he was at the mercy of his body, which currently was being a stern taskmaster. He still hadn’t got his appetite back and the general weakness was driving him crazy. Until the last week or two, even walking across the room made him tired. He’d flat out refused to get on the scale, but Claudia was convinced he’d lost at least twenty pounds.

She was aware that Jovanic knew how much she worried about him, but they didn’t talk about it anymore. He just became exasperated when the subject came up, so for the peace of mind of both of them she had decided to let it go.

Claudia got up again and moved behind his chair. She wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned down to press her warm cheek against his cool one. “Are you jealous, Columbo?” she said into his ear, teasing. “I get all the good cases?”

He took a swallow of beer, then bent his head and kissed her bare arm with moist lips. “You know you worry me, babe. You never take these things seriously enough, and then you end up in trouble.”

“This
is
serious, Joel. There’s a three-year-old at stake.”

“I know that, but do you really want to get between the unhappy couple? You
know
what happens in domestics most of the time: the Good Samaritan who intervenes ends up with the short end of the stick. That’s why cops hate taking those calls. I’m telling you, Claudia, the parents won’t thank you. They’ll end up ganging up on you and you and Kelly’ll be the bad guys.”

She returned to her seat across from him. “Of course I know there’s that possibility, but Kelly’s got this crazy wild hair about making up for Erin’s past, and I don’t want her to go into it on her own. Besides, I’m really worried about little Kylie. Who knows what’s happened to her? What if—”

“So you’re, what—going undercover in a cult? Come on, honey, is that really a wise thing to do?”

“It’s not undercover. I have a legitimate reason for being there. Harold Stedman is hiring me to do a job. If Kelly gets some information about Rodney while we’re there, so much the better.”

The skeptical look he gave her told her he wasn’t buying it. Claudia glanced back at him sidelong. “Okay, detective, would it make you happy if I called you and reported in every hour on the hour?”

“Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, babe. Every
four
hours will be fine.”

She had to laugh at that. She said, “It’s only a two-hour drive if you need me. I can jump right in the car and come home.” She measured his drawn face and saw the pain shadowing his eyes. “Honey, if you’re not feeling good, I’ll . . .”

He waved her off and took aim at the trash can with the Heinie bottle. “I’m fine. Go, do your thing, save the little girl. Just call or send me a text message, let me know you got there.” The bottle made a smooth arc across the kitchen and landed neatly atop the Domino’s Pizza box he had folded and stuffed into the trash earlier in the evening. “If I don’t hear from you by eleven, I’ll be sending the Hemet cops out there to check on you. Call if you need me; if anything gets weird. . . .”

Claudia couldn’t miss the frustration in his voice. “Holy shit, Joel, these people are fundamentalists. They believe the world’s coming to an end through
environmental
disasters. They’re not Branch Davidians. It’s not Waco. I’d be surprised if they had weapons or anything like that.”

“They’re a cult. Their weapon is mind control. So humor me and call, okay?”

 

That night, she heard Jovanic groan under his breath, as he often did when he thought she was asleep. He rolled carefully out of bed so as not to disturb her. She heard him rummaging in the medicine cabinet for his pain meds. She didn’t offer help, having learned that once he was able to walk on his own following the surgeries, he had resisted what he called being dependent on her.

After he slid back in beside her, she listened to his labored breathing until the meds kicked in; then his respirations evened out in sleep. Claudia stayed awake for a long time. It wasn’t the pang of guilt she felt for leaving Jovanic while he was still not up to par that kept her mind churning. She couldn’t get little Kylie out of her head. She wondered whether the child was missing her mother and Tickle, her stuffed bunny; whether she was being properly cared for wherever she and Rodney Powers were tonight.

Claudia had already packed her overnight bag. She had put her travel microscope and lighted hand magnifier into her briefcase, ready to go. She would salve her conscience by getting up early and cooking Jovanic breakfast—get some weight back on him.

Since she would have to leave the Ark to drive out to Riverside to give her lecture on Thursday evening, they would take her car. She had arranged to pick up Kelly at nine, when traffic would be more reasonable and they could arrive at the TBL headquarters by noon. As she finally drifted off, she promised herself that the trip would not be a futile effort.

 

July in Hemet put them just a couple miles short of the barbecue pits of hell. Somewhere between San Bernardino and Riverside counties, Claudia jacked up the air-conditioning full blast, hoping the 1985 Jaguar’s electrical system wouldn’t take a dive as it did on a semi-regular basis. The car was a classic, which, of course, always put into question its reliability.

Kelly pointed the air vent at her face and leaned into the cold stream. “I’m so glad I brought some shorts with me.”