Righteous02 - Mighty and Strong (17 page)

Miriam busied herself unloading boxes from the truck, setting up the booth, and then helping the first few customers buy produce and baked goods. Everything about her said polygamist wife, from the way she wouldn’t meet the eyes of male customers, to how she held her hands or absentmindedly straightened the collar of her prairie dress.

As the park filled with vendors and customers, Jacob took a pass through the market, cautious. Had the women come alone, or did they have minders?

He’d stopped to pick up a tourist t-shirt and baseball cap, which he’d changed into before leaving the supermarket parking lot. He couldn’t see anyone watching. The women had apparently come on their own.

Sister Miriam measured a bushel of pickling cucumbers, made change, then turned to Jacob as he took the place of the departing customer.

“May I help you?” She didn’t make eye-contact.

“Good morning, Sister Miriam.”

Her eyes flicked to his cap and t-shirt before settling on his face. “Oh, it’s you. Jacob, isn’t it? How come you’re here?”

“Are you alone?”

She glanced to the other women with a frown. They sold bread and pies on the other end of the table. “You mean are there just the three of us?”

“Right. It looks like you’re alone, more or less.”

“Ah, you mean we didn’t bring any priesthood holders. No, they’ve got more important things to do. Why are you wearing that crazy getup?”

“So nobody is watching you. Seems like it would be easy to say, ‘Excuse me sisters, I’m going to go find a bathroom. Can you watch the stall for a minute? And then you keep walking.’”

“Why would I do that?”

“And instead of finding a bathroom, you look for the police station. It’s only three blocks from here. Or maybe even pick up the phone and call the FBI.”

Something flickered across her face and for an instant Jacob saw a crack in her mask.

“Is this a test?” she asked. “Did Brother Clarence set you up for this?”

“Why would he do that?”

“I have no idea. He’s protective of the prophet and I’m the newest wife. But the police? I don’t understand. About what? I haven’t seen anything illegal.”

Jacob felt a flicker of doubt.
This wasn’t an FBI agent. If there were such a thing as a fundy radar, everything about this woman would have set it off: her mannerisms, her prairie dress, even by her accent he placed her childhood within fifty miles of the Utah-Arizona border. Possibly Colorado City, which meant she’d grown up FLDS.

She’s a chameleon,
Agent Fayer had said.
Can blend into any social situation. You know the type of person who visits a friend in South Carolina for a weekend and comes back speaking with a drawl? That’s Haley.

He tried to remember the picture Krantz and Fayer showed him, but it was blurry in his memory. There had been no question the first time he saw Sister Miriam. That recognition had been like a shock. He had to trust it now.

No mistake. This was his woman. A customer came, inspected the tomatoes before wandering off. The distraction gave him a chance to gather his thoughts.

“If you haven’t seen anything illegal, why haven’t you left?”

“Brother Jacob, thou art confused. Why should I leave my husband and my church?”

He glanced at the other women to make sure they were too far away to hear. “Because,
Haley Kite,
a certain Agent Krantz and Agent Fayer are wondering about you.”

“What?” The confusion on her face looked genuine.

“You heard me. I know exactly who you are. You’re an undercover FBI agent who hasn’t made contact with her handlers. I have no idea why, but that’s not my job. I’m here to make sure you do and then I’m done.”

“Brother Jacob, what is this? It’s such an outlandish story, I’m not sure who put you up to it or whether you invented it whole cloth. It’s insane.”

“What are you afraid of? Is someone watching? Brother Clarence, is he a threat? Brother Timothy? Who?”

“Nobody is watching me,” she snapped. “Now go away, before I tell my husband you’ve been harassing me.”

“Here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to walk down 100 East, then turn the corner to the left. I’m going to wait fifteen minutes. If you’re safe, you’ll make some excuse about finding a bathroom. If you don’t show up in fifteen minutes, I’ll know you’re in trouble, and I’ll make my way straight to the police station, tell them you’re being held against your will. They’ll be sure to send someone out.”

“And when the police come, I’ll tell them you’re absolutely nuts. No, better yet, as soon as you’re gone, I’m going to tell Sister Andrea and Sister Hazel that you’ve gone to the police.”

He was getting tired of this game. “And what are they going to do? Beat me over the head with a loaf of bread and a plate of homemade brownies?”

“They’ll hide me and when the police come, they’ll frown and shake their heads and say they have no idea what you were talking about. Sister Miriam? Who is that?”

“Fine, you do that. My job will be done, I’ll wash my hands of the whole thing.” He turned to go. “Fifteen minutes, that’s all I’m waiting.”

Chapter Eighteen:

The Anti-Christ’s agents had picked up Fear-Not’s trail. He was supposed to meet Vigilant and Zeal at Liberty Park, past the arbors and near the fountains. He saw Vigilant sitting on a bench, reading a newspaper. Together they’d walk to meet the younger man near the aviary on the south side of the park.

Fear-Not had fought an anxious gnawing in his gut all morning. He’d left Zarahemla early that morning, frustrated. The saints weren’t ready. They prepared food storage and an arsenal of weapons to defend the compound against the wicked. Voices broke during testimony meetings as men and women shared their love of the Lord and the prophet and told how eagerly they awaited the Second Coming.

And yet…and yet he heard people talking about Christmas, about who their young children would marry, about how big the church might be in a year or three or twenty. And he stared at them in bewilderment and growing anger.

He wanted to stand on the nearest table and shout.
Why do you think the Lord sent a prophet, you fools?

Did the Lord show Moses the burning bush twenty years before leading Israel out of Egypt? Was John the Baptist crying in the wilderness about the coming of the Christ a century before Jesus was born?

There wouldn’t be another year or three. There wouldn’t be another Christmas.

He was so preoccupied with these thoughts that he must have overlooked the enemies following in their car. He gave a couple of glances around the park, but didn’t see anyone there either.

Men could have been hiding among the trees, or strolling along, trying to look inconspicuous. If there were agents, Fear-Not didn’t see them. Suspected nothing, in fact. No attention or signs of danger since they’d abandoned reconnaissance of Temple Square.

Vigilant sat on a bench, reading a newspaper. As Fear-Not approached, he whistled a few bars from, “Come, Come Ye Saints,” an old pioneer tune. That was the older man’s cue to lower the newspaper, slide to the side of the bench. A few quick words and they’d look for Zeal at the aviary.

Instead, Vigilant straightened his newspaper, then folded it back and started to read the other side. He didn’t look up.

It was one of the alternate signs.
You’re being followed.

Followed? The whistle died on Fear-Not’s lips. Had he paid such poor attention that he failed to notice the tail? How had Vigilant noticed the enemy, and he hadn’t?

He continued without slowing his pace. First, the unwelcome attention on Temple Square, and now they were following him throughout the city. But how did they know where to find him? He must have picked up a tail all the way back in Manti, or maybe they’d bugged his truck, even though he alternated vehicles every time he left the compound.

Fear-Not had grown more and more cautious. There might be a mole in the compound, maybe that doctor who’d shown up unexpectedly, maybe someone else. The FBI might have other agents in Manti or Salt Lake that he hadn’t noted. No doubt they’d tightened security around Senator McKay.

Zeal was waiting in the aviary with simple instructions. If Fear-Not and Vigilant didn’t show, he was to return to his motel room and come back the next day. If Fear-Not came alone, then asked for the restroom at the gift shop, it meant Zeal was to return to the motel, but not return until he received new instructions.

Might be safer to bypass the aviary and circle the park until he returned to the truck, try again tomorrow. But tomorrow might not work either, and he didn’t want Zeal kicking around the aviary for the next hour, attracting attention.

Couples picnicked around the pond to the left of the aviary. Half a dozen workers assembled a fireworks display. It was almost Pioneer Day.

A scream startled him as he walked between the pond and the boundary fence of the Tracy Aviary. Sounded like a woman crying out in fear. He was so jittery he almost stopped, turned around, when he realized it was just a peacock. Several walked free on the sidewalk inside the fence.

Fear-Not paid his money, entered the aviary. He stopped in front of the map, as if studying it. And there were the agents. How had he missed them earlier? A man and a woman, like a couple, late twenties, no children, dressed casually. Trim, athletic, like people who spent winters skiing and their summers mountain biking. Or rather, FBI agents who kept in shape to physically abuse the Lord’s servants. And if that failed, pull out guns and shoot them without second thought.

What good are your guns against angels and the priesthood? You cannot thwart the will of the Lord.

No sign of the big, hulking man he’d seen once on Temple Square. Probably the man thought he’d be conspicuous, and with good reason.

He spotted Zeal browsing the gift shop. The younger man thumbed a handbook on birds, then picked up a plush song bird that launched into a series of whistles. He tossed it back into a bin of similar toys, picked up another. A different song.

A young, heavy-set woman behind the counter with garish, dangly earrings and even more garishly painted fingernails—long enough it must have been hard to write or type—watched Zeal with a suspicious expression. Fear-Not wondered how long he’d been standing there, grubbing up books and making toys chirp and whistle.

The door opened at Fear-Not’s back as two other people entered. He didn’t dare turn to look and he didn’t look at Zeal either. Instead, he approached the counter. “Excuse me, where are the restrooms?”

She turned and fixed him with the same annoyed look. “Didn’t you see the sign? It’s around the corner to your left.”

“No, sorry.”

“Well, it’s around the corner.”

He left the store without acknowledging Zeal. That was another signal.

Peacocks walked freely in the aviary. A clump of ducks waddled after him with wagging tails, quacking for food. Geese honked from ponds, no doubt after the same thing. They left their messes all along the paths. A clump of screaming kids ran past. Their teacher called them to a cage of parrots, with limited success.

Fear-Not found the restroom, entered a stall and sat down to think. The door opened, closed. Children came and went, two men chatted about the fireworks while they first urinated and then washed their hands and left.

After a minute it came to him. The problem wasn’t the senator. Yes, the man was wicked, an agent of the Devil. But the Lord would take care of that in due time, if not by their hands, than through some other servant.

Ruining an enemy of the church was only secondary. The key was to follow the prophet. And what had Brother Timothy said, when he’d called them to perform this great and terrible duty?

“A catalyst, an event that will provoke the enemy,” the prophet said. “For whether they know it or not, all men, even the wicked, must serve His purpose.”

The key was the FBI. If the FBI could target the Lord’s servants, than the Lord’s servants could return the favor. It was the perfect way to set events in motion.

Heavenly Father,
Fear-Not prayed silently,
tell me if this is how we should obey thy will. And help me not be afraid.

The Lord did not wait to give him a sign. Fear-Not knew he had chosen correctly as soon as he exited the restroom to see the suspicious couple waiting outside. They pretended not to notice him. But the tension in their bodies was unmistakeable.

“Sure you don’t need to go?” the man asked his companion.

“Nah, I’ll wait here.”

Neither of them looked at Fear-Not. He bent to tie his shoe a few feet away and saw the woman was still waiting while the man searched the bathroom for anything he might have left behind, or any reason other than the obvious he might have gone inside.

Bent over, tying his shoe with his head upside down, he studied them and knew how to destroy them. And he feared not.

#

Jacob waited next to a house with a real estate sign and a lawn turning yellow from lack of water. Weeds sprouted from cracks in the sidewalk. It was a good place to talk, assuming Sister Miriam showed up. He kind of hoped she didn’t. No idea what she was playing, but he’d done his duty. The police part was bluff. Better to call Krantz and Fayer, let them handle it. If she was deep underground, a visit from the cops wouldn’t help.

He didn’t have a watch, but it couldn’t have been more than five minutes before Miriam came around the corner. She glanced over her shoulder, then to either side of the street.

“The house is for sale and looks empty,” Jacob said. “Wait in the back yard and I’ll get my car from the park, be back in five minutes and we can get out of here.”

“I’m not going.”

“Oh, are you still pretending? Silly me, I thought you were being reasonable.”

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but whatever it is, I don’t need it.”

“Look, I’m not trying to blow your cover,” he said. “But it’s your fault for not calling in. If you’d told them you were okay, they’d have never sent me in the first place.”