The Mormon Candidate - a Novel (24 page)

“And I’m a ballerina!”

“
It’s about your friend, Zachariah Hinckley. I
need
to talk to you, okay?”

Rex didn’t let go. His bearded face was up close, and his breath smelled of garlic. “How did you find me?”

“
Ironman
Cycles,
then Best Buy. A kid on a moto
cross told me you come here t
o fish.” Ben lowered his hands.
“I want to talk, that’s all.”

“Why?”

“I was at the
r
ide yesterday. Zachariah passed us, speeding
like
crazy as if
someone was chasing him.”

“You’re lying.” There was less confidence in Rex’s voice, but his grip remained tight, holding Ben’s upper body out over the railing and the
dark water
.

“He was in trouble with his church, right? The Mormons?”

“Shut up!” Rex
sheathed the knife, still holding on to Ben, swiveled him around, and patted him from head to toe.

“I’m not packing anything,” Ben said. “Will you answer a couple of questions?”

Rex
stepped back and looked around. He pulled his
fishing
rod from the holder and start
ed rolling back his line.

“
Wh
at
are you
afraid
of
?”

With the fishing rod in one hand and the bucket in the other, Rex jogged toward land.

Ben stayed with him. “He was your friend. Don’t you care about the truth?”

“I care
about staying
out of other people’s business
.”

“
Your dead buddy isn’t your business?
”

They reached the Chevy pickup, and Rex dropped his stuff into the bed.

“
Talk to me. You’ll feel better
.”

Rex got in the driver’s side
and unlocked the passenger door
.
“
T
wo minutes.
That’s it
!”

“Okay.”
Ben
sat down and shut the door. “Nice truck.”

Rex turned on the engine. The vertical part of the dashboard, which normally would hold the radio and climate controls, instead
had
a flat piece of gray steel
that covered the whole area from the glove compartment to the steering wheel
. He pressed his thumb to a fittingly small pad, and after a few peeps, the steel plate clicked open and slid aside, revealing a touch-screen filled with icons. It
was held in place by a solid-looking
steel frame. He pressed an
icon for an
application, and a series of bars appeared, rising and falling like a music synchronizer. On the side was a small image of the truck with a line going through it repeatedly like a scanner
.
A
red light began to blink
in the spot r
epresenting the passenger seat.

“Fancy,” Ben said. “Best Buy sells this stuff?”

“Are you recording?”

“No.” Ben pulled out his
iPhone
.
“This is the only electronic device I’m carrying and
it’s not recording right now.
”

“
It’s traceable.
Turn it off.
”

Ben complied
.
“Traceable by whom?”

A few more applications came up,
and loud
music—
o
pera, of all things
.

“
Great sound system.
”

Rex scanned the area through the windows and
side mirrors. “You may not mention my name to anyone, or I’ll—
”

“Fish food
.
G
ot it.”

“
I
knew
Zachariah
from his mission years in New York.
My family hosted him for occasional dinners, gave him some leads on prospects for tracking, stuff like that. I was a couple of years younger, so we weren’t
close, didn’t keep in touch or anything
. B
ut I ran into him one day
at
Ironman
Cycles
, so we caught up on life,
family,
bikes
, technology,
the
military
.
”

“You served too?”

“
Long time ago.” Rex rubbed a
service
ring on his
index
finger. “
We
started riding together on
Saturday
s
, maybe once a month, n
othing too formal.
Neither of us rode on Sundays, so it worked out good
, became a regular thing
.”

“
Yesterday was a Sunday
.”

“
It’s a first
. Zachariah
never missed Sunday services with his family.”

“And you?”

“I work on Sundays. It’s our biggest day, lots of customers come in.”

“Are you also a Mormon?”

“
I’m a Jack Mormon
.
Do you know the phrase?
”

“
Someone who cheats on the rules
?”

For the first time
, Rex smiled
.
“
Let’s say that
I
like my
coffee
too much.
An occasional smoke too.
”

“And Zachariah?
Did he keep the rules?
”

“Never saw him drink coffee, tea, or alcohol, if that’s what you mean. I’d offer him a cigarette every time I lit
up
myself,
but
he
wo
uld
n’t try it
.
W
omen bat
ted their eyes at him
all the time
too
, but he wo
uld
n’t even flirt. Drove me nuts, being single myself, you know?
”

“Did he ever express doubts about his faith?”

“Look, we
weren’t close. Rode together some S
aturday
s
, took breaks,
had a meal on the road, nice conversations
, that’s all.
I could tell he was under
pressure
. F
amily,
eight kids
, volunteering
, but h
e kept it together. Very organized. Serious.”

“In what way?”

“Bike always clean, riding boots shining,
gas
tank topped
off.” Rex
fumbled with the touch screen.
“
He insisted on
fuel
ing
up every sixty miles,
like a clock. God forbid he had
less than half
a
tank of gas.”

“That’s odd.”

“
You had to know the guy. He remained a Marine, you know?”

Ben nodded.

“Are you
a veteran
?”

“
Football injury.
”
Ben
rubbed
his shoulder. “
Not fit for service.”

Rex turned and measured him up and down. “You’re too skinny for a football player.”

“I’m intense
,” Ben said. “I
f Zachariah was such a straight arrow,
what happened to him?
Why did he ride on Sunday, speed up recklessly, get himself killed? It doesn’t fit the description you’ve just given me.
”

“
He
wasn’t doing well the last few weeks.”

“In what way?”

“He was in some
trouble
.”

“With whom?”

Rex shifted uncomfortabl
y.
“With the
Church
.”

“What trouble?”

“I don’t know.
A
disagreement
.
”

“Really?” Ben kept an even tone as if he knew nothing.
“
About what
?”

“
He had something they wanted. T
hey
talked to
his wife
,
put him on trial,
suspended his religious status
—
”

“
In what way
?”

“
H
e lost the right to
enter the
T
emple
. He was very upset about it. Also
during Sunday
services
at the
local
ward
,
he had to stay in the
back
, not included in anything
. Can you imagine? The guy ha
s
all these
kids, they go to services
together
, and
D
ad has to sit in the corner like
he’s
wet his pants.”

“Sad.”

Rex craned his neck, scanning the area. “
Look, I don’t know much more—”

“You know
enough to be
scared
. Why
?”

“
T
hey broke into his house,
messed it up
. Same with his car. Even his office
at Veterans Affairs.”

“
Did he call the police?”

“
File
a complaint against other
s
aints
?” Rex laughed. “D
ispute
s are resolved by
local b
ishop
s
or someone higher, like the
s
take
p
resident or
an official
back in Salt Lake City.
Mormons
don’t trust
the Gentile
authorities.
”

“Still, if it was so bad, he should have sought help. The police could—”

“
E
ven if he did, the
re are
p
eople
inside
who w
ould
make sure the interests of the Church are protected
.
”

“
Really?
”

“
It’s a century-old strategy, ever since the US Army marched on Utah and forced the great compromise on Brigham Young—renounce polygamy and give up the dream of an independent New Zion.
The
LDS Church
learned its lesson.”

“What lesson?”

“Like the cliché
—
If you can’t beat them, join them.
Look around you! Mormons
control
huge corporations, banks, the media, even Congress.
”

“That’s
the same ugly stuff bigots
say about Jews.”

“Jews are nothing compared to
us
.
Jews have no central authority,
no hierarchical structure, no
single
strategy t
hey must
follow. Jews a
re individual entrepreneurs
. Jews go after
personal
goals, their own
ideas
and
opinions.
Latter-day
Saints
can’t do that. We’re told to obey our b
ishop
.
The Mormon Church is like an army
with a clear chain of command and an army of loyal soldiers.
Where do you think Harry Rei
d
and Orrin Hatch
get
their
marching orders?
Or the thousands of
Mormons
in key positions in the FBI, CIA, and every other branch of the government?
And
the
White House
is next
!
”