Summer of the Redeemers (39 page)

“Hey! Leave her here.” I nudged Cammie forward a step or two.

Singer looked over his shoulder at me, then turned Magdeline to face me. “Tell her you want to stay here.” He paused, then shook her. “Tell her.”

“I have responsibilities in the church,” she said, looking beyond me at the far bank of the creek. “I can’t talk anymore. I’m neglecting my duties.” She turned away voluntarily, preceding Singer down the path toward the church.

The look he gave me was filled with satisfaction. He turned and stalked after her, circling his fingers around her arm.

I remembered something. “Maggie!” I called her name loudly. Even in Singer’s tight grip she turned back to look at me. “I won’t leave you here. I swear it.”

Singer thrust her forward, and they disappeared behind a clump of pines and elderberry bushes.

I didn’t have long to wait before Rev. Marcus came through the clearing. The sun crested in the wave of his Bryllcreemed hair. His clothes were crisp, expensive, and they hung on his body to show the leanness of his waist and hips. In contrast to the other Redeemers, his shoes gleamed with polish. To my surprise, he was alone.

“You have a message for me?” he asked.

His blue eyes looked up at me with nothing more than mild curiosity. He was a damn fine actor.

“Nadine Andrews wants to see you.”

“The woman with the horses?” There was no recognition in his voice or face, only a mild and contemptuous interest.

“Yeah, that’s her.”

“Tell her to come down here. I’ll be glad to talk with her. I have an interest in a young boy she’s … sheltering.” His lip curled on the word.

“You nearly killed Greg. If it hadn’t been for Nadine, he might have died.”

“The Bible states clearly that to spare the rod will ruin the child. His back will heal. It’s his soul that I’m concerned about. Mrs. Andrews,” he almost sneered the words, “may have condemned the boy to hell. I suspect the three of you will spend eternity roasting in the flames.” His gaze fell on my leg. “I can redeem you, though. You’re young. You aren’t hardened in the ways of sin. I could work with you—”

“What kind of punishment do you get for selling babies?” My legs
tightened involuntarily on Cammie’s sides. She backed up, her body tensing beneath me.

His eyes narrowed. “You tell Greg to get his butt back here. Whatever he’s been telling you, he’s going to pay for. And you, you’ll pay for interfering here. You’ve snooped and pried since the day we moved here. God’s going to punish you with a mighty blow. He is a just God and a righteous God. He protects his flock.”

I tickled Cammie’s sides, and she lunged forward. The preacherman broke off his tirade and fell back. “It won’t be God but the sheriff who comes after you,” I promised him.

“We have broken no laws here. The First Amendment guarantees our right to religious freedom. We have learned that there is nothing in this world but blood and redemption.” He spread his hands out, palms up and looked toward the heavens. Peace and compassion spread across his features. “Upon the cross the Lord Jesus gave his life, his very flesh and blood, for us. That sacrifice bathes us all in his blood and allows us the choice of eternal redemption. I offer you that choice, Rebekah.” He brought his gaze down to rest on me. “Yes, I know your given name, and a good one it is. Rebekah, a woman of the Bible. You could be a lovely servant of God. You’re a warrior, Rebekah. Fierce, courageous. I like that, a bit of spirit in a young woman. I would welcome you into our flock. I have need of someone like you. A special place beside me. Exalted, esteemed. I had hoped that Magdeline might earn that place, but she is too weak.” He lifted an eyebrow. “But you are strong, Rebekah. Everyone would recognize your special destiny, and they would worship you. You have a choice today, damnation or redemption. What will it be?”

Nadine had prepared me for the preacherman’s tricks. That gave me courage, and I wasn’t afraid, not for myself. He could never catch me on Cammie. “If anything happens to Maggie, you’ll go to prison for the rest of your life.”

“That isn’t the right choice.” He shook his head sadly. “You will suffer as all sinners suffer. What is it you love? What things do you cherish the most? Those are the things God will take away from you. One by one. And the agony for you will be knowing that you brought it on yourself. Everything you love will suffer because of you.”

“It’s you who’s going to suffer. When my father gets home—”

He smiled. “I have suffered, and I am redeemed. My suffering is past.”

“Let Maggie come with me.”

“She has no desire to leave with you. She is loved here, cared for. We’ll make sure that she is protected.”

“And her baby? What will happen to her child?” I hurled my knowledge at him. “What will happen to the child you fathered with Magdeline?”

Surprise touched his features, but he erased it in a moment. “A child,” he murmured the words. “I’ll provide a decent and loving home. That is what we do here. We find homes for children.”

“You sell them.”

He looked at me, an appraising glance. The warmth and compassion that had softened his face as he looked toward heaven was gone. He was thinking of something mean and terrible. It flickered behind his eyes. “God is preparing a special punishment for you. Very special. He will smite you to the ground and crush your bones beneath his heel.”

I turned Cammie, ready to run. At the thicket of pines I saw a motion. Two Redeemer men were struggling with something in the underbrush. When I heard the yelp of fear and pain, I knew they had Picket.

Thirty-five

C
AMMIE
bolted forward and then shied right. I lost my stirrup and felt myself sliding down her neck. My fingers clutched mane, and I managed to stay on top of the spinning horse. When I looked at the preacherman, he was grinning. “I told you God was going to take away the things you loved.”

“Let my dog go.”

“We have a right to dispose of any animals that trespass on our land. The dog is vicious. She has to be destroyed.” He looked from me to the two Redeemers, and Picket yelped again. They were holding her down, one with his foot on her neck while the other tied her legs together.

“Stop it!” I tried to make Cammie go to Picket, but the thrashing and commotion frightened her. She shied and tried to bolt.

“Picket!” I screamed her name. “Picket!”

I dug my heels into Cammie’s side and she shot forward, covering the ground between me and the two Redeemers in three strides. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but when I saw the Redeemer lift the large knife in the air, I hauled back on the reins.

Cammie skidded to a halt, trembling.

I couldn’t stop looking at the knife. It was at least nine inches long, a steel blade that glittered in the sun. I thought of Caesar. Stabbed over thirty times. The Redeemer who held the knife grasped Picket’s tied mouth and lifted her head, exposing her throat.

“Let her go,” I whispered.

“Get off our property.” Rev. Marcus had walked up closer to the horse. “If you ever come here again, we’ll be the ones who call the sheriff. The damage you’ve done is irreparable. Greg is gone. Magdeline will be punished. We’ll do whatever it takes to cleanse her.”

“What about Picket?”

“We don’t allow pets. Poor Magdeline found a stray cat this summer. It had to be destroyed. It was very upsetting for her. I told her it didn’t have a soul, but she insisted on burying it. Quite a little drama. Now get off our property.”

“Let me have my dog.” I couldn’t leave Picket. I remembered the day Magdeline and Georgie had buried the cat. They were both crying. And the preacherman would kill Picket too. In cold blood. Just to be mean. “Let her go and we’ll leave. Forever.”

He nodded to the two men. As they picked Picket up by her legs, swinging upside down, he laughed. “Go home, Rebekah. Maybe your dog will come later. Maybe not.”

He walked away from me, following the men who had my dog, back toward the church.

“Wait a minute,” I called after him. “Wait!”

He kept walking, a casual, not hurried walk that told me he’d never turn around.

I turned Cammie toward the creek and we crossed. On Kali Oka, I held her to a trot. She’d spent most of her nervous energy, and she settled down to a pace that covered the ground. I went straight back to Nadine’s. No matter what had happened between us. No matter how much she hated me, she had to help Picket. Nadine would go in there blasting. The Redeemers had killed Caesar. I was certain of it. I’d seen the knife, a hunting blade capable of such terrible wounds.

Nadine’s truck was parked in the driveway. I rode Cammie into the barn and put her in an unused stall at the end. I left the saddle on her but pulled off the bridle so she wouldn’t accidentally step on the reins. I’d give her water when I found Nadine.

I ran to the house, not bothering to knock. Whatever was in my way, I jumped over it.

“Nadine!” I called her name as loud as I could. “Nadine! Help me.”

I went through the house twice before I accepted that she wasn’t there.

The barn.

I hurried outside, running hard. The barn door was wide open, as I’d left it. I ran into the shadowy depths and blinked while my eyes adjusted. The barn was silent except for the noises of the horses. There was no sign of Nadine.

I checked the tack room and the feed room.

“Nadine?” I called her name.

Up above me in the loft, there was the sound of scurrying, small noises that sounded as if someone was trying not to laugh.

“Nadine?” I went to the ladder and called. “Are you up there?”

Silence.

Had I ever climbed into the loft and found anything I wanted to see? I put one hand on a rung and slowly pulled myself up. My head cleared the loft floor, and for a moment I was dazzled by the shafts of light coming in from the hay door, which Nadine never allowed open unless a load was being delivered. Then I saw her.

She was a silhouette, her hair tumbling down about her shoulders, her naked breasts revealed by the intense backlight. She was sitting on something, moving slowly forward and back, her profile clear and tilted up, reverent. She put her arms behind her neck, lifting her hair and letting it fall through her fingers. Sweat glistened on her face and breasts and torso. She was dancing, slow and sexy, to some music I couldn’t hear.

It took me a moment longer to notice the pale naked legs of the man she was astride.

“Hush!” she whispered, giggling. “She won’t come up here. She’s terrified of the loft. Just be quiet and she’ll go away.”

“Nadine—”

His protest was cut short as she leaned over him and let her hair drape in his face. She pushed back suddenly, and he groaned.

“Forget her,” Nadine whispered. “Say it, Greg.” She increased the tempo of her movements. “Say it!”

“I love you,” Greg whispered. His hands reached up and tangled in her hair. He lifted it off her back and let it fall through his fingers, and the sun turned it into spun gold.

The only thing I could think about was Charlie and Earnest, and how I’d watched them feed from Nadine’s mouth. I was unable to look away even when I didn’t want to see.

Nadine bent over Greg, pushing a breast into his mouth. The golden sun furrowed her spine, splitting her down the center in soft white hills.

My feet felt below me until they touched the next rung. My body descended, but my gaze clung to them until I dropped below the loft floor. When I touched the ground I found Cammie’s bridle. The sweat had dried on her, crusting her hair into little tufts. She took the bit eagerly, and I led her into the yard before I mounted. When I was clear of the gate and walking down the drive, I looked back. Nadine’s body whipped back and forth in the sun, much faster than before, her hair a wild dandelion riding the action of her hips.

I turned Cammie toward home and let her run.

Arly was waxing the car under the big cedar tree. He looked up at the sound of hoofbeats, and at another time I would have been delighted to see the reluctant admiration in his eyes. I stopped by the car and leaped to the ground. “Get the keys. Those church people have Picket, and they’re going to kill her.”

Arly stopped his rubbing motion on the hood of the car. He looked at me like I’d grown another head.

“They’ve got Picket?” He couldn’t grasp what I’d said.

“Arly, they caught her and tied her up. They said they’d kill her. We’ve got to go down there right now and get her back.”

“Mama Betts!” He dropped the cloth on the car and turned to the house. “Grandma! You’d better get out here.”

Mama Betts stopped at the screen door and then walked into the yard.

“Bekkah says those church people have Picket. She says they’re going to kill her.”

“They are!” I grabbed Mama Betts’ arm. “They tied her up and she was screaming. I couldn’t stop them. They had a knife. And I know they killed Caesar, Nadine’s horse. He was stabbed more than thirty times.”

A blankness passed across Mama Betts’ eyes, just a second of complete stillness before she spoke. “I knew when Mr. Tom was killed that something evil had come on this road.” She dried her hands on her apron and started walking to the house. “Get the keys, Arly, I want you to drive us to the sheriff’s office. We could call him, but he’ll delay. If we go there, I can force him to action faster.”

“There’s not time!” I ran after her, dragging Cammie behind me. “They’re going to kill Picket. Joe Wickham won’t do anything. Not about a dog. He’ll just think up excuses.”

Mama Betts didn’t stop. “We can’t go down there and get her, Bekkah. We’ll get Joe Wickham. He has legal authority to go on their property. We might have to get a warrant, but we’ll get the legal power, and we’ll go get the dog.”

“They’ll kill her!” I grabbed the bow of her apron. “We have to go down there now.”

“What are you doing with that horse?” She didn’t turn around.

“I took her. And I’m not taking her back.”

“Arly! Get the wax off and let’s go. I’m getting my purse. Bekkah, unsaddle that horse and put her in Picket’s old pen. She’ll have to stay there until we can do something else.” She paused. “Better yet, ride her down to the Welfords’. Put her in his barn and be sure she has some water. She’s hollowed out. Now go! And walk her there, don’t trot her! We’ll drive by to get you.”

By the time Grandma got Joe Wickham motivated, with all his warrants and finding his deputies and all, Picket would be dead. I had to think of something better to do.

“Cammie’s pretty hot,” I felt her chest. “You’d better not wait for me.”

Mama Betts walked up and put her hand on the horse’s shoulder, then her chest. “You need to walk her. Use the hose and walk her in between. Arly, let’s go.” She didn’t move as Arly opened her car door for her. “Bekkah, you stay right here in this yard with that horse. Don’t you get any idea in your head. You stay away from those church people until we get back.”

“What if they kill Picket?”

“If they’ll kill a dog, they might hurt you. Stay away from down there. You swear?”

“Mama Betts, I …” My lying ability wasn’t up to her direct stare. “I’ll take care of Cammie, I swear that. I don’t have anybody to go down there with me, and I’m afraid to go alone.”

Mama Betts nodded. “Take care of that horse. I don’t know how long this will take. Joe can be difficult, but you stay in this yard.”

She got in the car and slammed the door as Arly was driving away. Even though he wouldn’t admit it, he loved Picket as much as I did.

I hosed Cammie’s legs with cold water and walked her to Jamey Louise’s. I had to think of something to do. Something faster than Joe Wickham, and more powerful.

Jamey didn’t say anything about how I’d gotten Cammie when I asked if she’d walk the horse for another fifteen minutes and let her stay in their barn for an hour or so. She got a water bucket and said she’d take care of her.

“How’s Greg?” she finally asked. She held Cammie’s reins and the water bucket.

“Jamey, too much has happened. The Redeemers have Picket.” To her credit she knew better than to say Picket was just a dog. She didn’t understand why I was so terribly upset, but she let it pass. I thanked her for looking after Cammie and ran back home. I’d thought of something to do. It was an act of sheer desperation, but I had to do it.

The house was quieter than I’d ever heard it when I went to the hall and picked up the telephone receiver. The operator was very helpful in getting the number for the newspaper in Mobile. I knew Cathi was there because I’d seen her name above some stories. Mama Betts had been snorting about it.

The operator put the call through for me, and I hung on to the black telephone like it was my lifeline.

“Hello.”

I recognized Cathi’s sleepy accent hidden by a gloss of living in other places.

“Cathi, it’s Bekkah.” I drew a breath. “There’s nobody else I could call or I wouldn’t be calling you. Some people down the road from me have my dog and they’re going to kill her. They’ve been doing some terrible things. Will you help me?” I got it all out in one lung full.

“What is it that I can do?”

I couldn’t tell if she was being mean or just asking a sincere question. “Go with me down there. Make them give me Picket back. You can do it. You aren’t afraid of them.”

“How can I do that, Bekkah?”

She sounded tired, like maybe she’d been up for several days, the way Effie sounded when she got to the end of a book and couldn’t stop writing to sleep.

“They’ve been selling babies down there. They beat the children there with coat hangers, and they nearly killed one boy.”

“You know this for a fact.” All languor was gone from her voice. She was alert.

“I saw his back. I saw the records where it showed how much they got for the babies. Nadine wrote it all down.”