Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 09 (27 page)

“I’m real sure you’re going to tell me, Bur,” Ruby Bee said wearily. “What year are we up to, by the way?”

“Nineteen eighty-four. Greenland’s got another damn six-foot-four center, and all I’ve got is one kid in intensive care and another one that can’t tell the basket from a knothole on an outhouse door.” He finished the beer and dropped the empty can on the alpine pile. “So what I do is tell Amos to get the kid enrolled in nothing but basic English and phys ed classes. In the meantime, I come up with this defense that’s fuckin’ impenetrable.”

Ruby Bee was beginning to think it might not hurt that bad to be killed, as long as death was instantaneous. Wasn’t there some international law about torture? If she was entitled to a final request, it would be that Estelle be roused and forced to listen to all the details—players, plays, good calls, bad calls, blind refs, technical fouls, intentional fouls, free throws, field goals, defense, offense—all of it. And she deserved it, having missed the first seventeen years of Bur’s recitation.

—==(O)==—

“I ain’t sure about this,” Kevin hollered, looking down. “The ladder’s extended as far as it kin go, and I cain’t reach the roof unless I grab the gutter and swing over to the windowsill. The gutter’s a mite rusty.”

“Why are you waiting?”

“The windowsill’s rotted, and the wood’s liable to crumble if I step on it. I’m sorry, Mrs. Jim Bob, but I’m gonna be a father real soon, and I aim to be there to go fishing and plant a garden and read fairy tales at bedtime.” He realized what he’d said and came close to losing his grip and slithering down a fast forty feet. “Stories like Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty,” he explained in case she thought he was referring to male hairdressers. It wasn’t as if he’d ever actually met a male hairdresser in his entire life, but he didn’t want her to get ideas.

Mrs. Jim Bob had ideas, all the same. “Kevin, I am telling you to step on that sill so you can attach the lights like I said. Stop discussing frivolous literature and do as you’re told.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

—==(O)==—

My hands were shaking as I went into the tent through the back entrance. Out in front, the faithful were gathering, although curtain time was more than an hour away. The ushers were already guiding wheelchairs to the front row and helping people fill out those handy, dandy informational prayer cards. A hymn played softly on the stereo system. Outside, the tables were piled high and the vendors were eager to accept credit cards.

Malachi was staring at the fuse box as if admiring the configuration of the lights. He was in a pastel pink jacket and trousers. It struck me as the color of strawberry vomit.

“I want to talk to you,” I said, tapping his shoulder. “Jesus went out into the wilderness for forty days and nights, but forty minutes was all I needed.”

“For what?” he asked.

“To realize that Joey Lerner is not responsible for Chastity’s pregnancy.”

Malachi’s face began to resemble his ensemble. “Why are you saying this, Miss Hanks? Are you determined to cause Chastity even more pain at a time when she’s coming to terms with her sister’s death?”

“She’s holding up,” I said dryly. “A long time ago, as far back as last week, Thomas Fratelleon told me that Joey was a decent young man. Somehow or other, he’s now guilty of impregnating a teenager—but nobody cares. He doesn’t care. Chastity doesn’t care. Thomas doesn’t care. When you told me about it, you never so much as mentioned his name. Seraphina cared, but she’s dead. Not one of the rest of you seems to believe Joey ought to do what used to be called ‘the honorable thing’ and marry Chastity. In the good ol’ days, there were plenty of shotgun weddings in these parts. Hell, it was standard dress for the groomsmen. So why are you giving him a raise instead of insisting he acknowledge paternity?”

“Joey’s a drifter,” Malachi said, “and unwilling to accept responsibility for his immoral actions. There’s no way I can force him.”

“Sure there is. All we have to do is require him to submit a blood sample. In a matter of days, we’ll have the results of the test, and if there’s doubt, we can order DNA testing. Proving paternity is a piece of angelfood cake.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“To solve two murders,” I said. “You are aware that Norma Kay Grapper and Seraphina—your beloved wife—were strangled, aren’t you? They died because they were prolifers strongly opposed to abortion. Talk about irony …”

“I don’t care to talk about irony or anything else. In less than an hour I’m going onstage to do the Lord’s work. I need time to prepare myself through prayer and meditation.”

“You’re not going anywhere in the next hour, unless it’s to the county prosecutor’s office. You’re responsible for Chastity’s pregnancy. She’s a minor. You, on the other hand, are a felon. You’re not only guilty of statutory rape but also incest if indeed you legally adopted her. And don’t forget homicide, Mr. Hope. I’d love to pin it on you.”

“You’re accusing me?” he said. “This is an outrage. Don’t you know who I am?”

“A real scumbag, in my opinion. How long did you think you could continue sending Seraphina off to hotels for the night before she caught on?” I gave him a chance to answer what was basically a rhetorical question, but he didn’t seem inclined to do more than stare at me. “She was going to catch on real soon, because she was determined that Joey was going to marry Chastity and take a menial job in order to support her. He may be as decent as Fratelleon claims, but I have a feeling he’s not a sacrificial lamb. All he had to do was demand that blood test I mentioned a minute ago. If he preferred, he could save the cost of the lab work by telling Seraphina the truth. It wouldn’t sit well with her, would it?”

“God gave man a body as well as a soul,” Malachi said as sweat beaded on his forehead. “He made us creatures of flesh. Just as we hunger for food, we hunger for sexual fulfillment. I could see what was in Chastity’s eyes when she looked at men. I knew it was only a matter of time before she offered her chaste young body to the devil. She would be tainted forever after, branded as a sinner. I had to save her so she could take her rightful place beside me. She and I have been chosen. I planted the divine seed in her in order to bring God’s offspring into the world. Don’t you see that?”

He put his hand on my shoulder, but I knocked it away and said, “I couldn’t possibly describe what I see standing in front of me, but I’m sure some choice phrases will come to mind. Until this is sorted out, the revival’s canceled, Mr. Hope. It’s over and done. I’m going to radio for deputies to set up roadblocks and turn people away. Then you, Chastity, and I are going to the sheriff’s office for a long talk.”

“You have no right to judge me. I am graced with powers you cannot possibly fathom.”

“Well, you can try to arrange for me to be struck dead by lightning, but don’t leave the tent. I’ll be back in five minutes.”

He was sitting on a carton, his face buried in his hands, as I went out the back exit and over to my car. It would take several strategic roadblocks to divert the expected multitude. I was trying to decide which would be the most effective locations as I switched on the radio.

“Don’t do that.”

I looked into the barrel of a gun. I hate it when that happens.

—==(O)==—

“Where can Kevvie be?” asked Dahlia as her father-in-law turned down County 102. She was sitting in the backseat, staring glumly out the window in hopes her husband might be walking alongside the ditch. Why he’d do that she din’t know, but he’d been acting real weird lately. She took a candy bar from her purse and morosely ripped open the wrapper. “I called the supermarket, but they couldn’t say where he is. He was supposed to come home for supper. Where can he be?”

“He’s probably planning to meet you inside the tent,” Eilene said, crossing her fingers. “The two of you can wait until the revival’s over and then insist on having a word in private with Malachi Hope.”

“Where can Kevvie be?”

Earl gritted his teeth and kept driving.

—==(O)==—

“I’m sure they keep the discarded eyeglasses in a box,” Edwina Spitz said as she turned down County 102. “All you have to do is ask real nicely if you can have yours back for emergencies. Jesus won’t mind a bit.”

Lottie slumped down in the seat and sighed. “Maybe my faith isn’t as steadfast as I thought it was. In any case, I’m blind as a bat without my glasses.”

“And my ankle’s swollen worse than a beach ball,” said Eula, who was in the backseat, where she could elevate her leg. “If Malachi Hope doesn’t heal it again, I may break down and take my pills.”

Their conversation dribbled off as Edwina’s car fell into line.

—==(O)==—

“This is ridiculous,” I said, as angry with myself as I was at Thomas Fratelleon. Almost as angry, anyway. I was on the floor in the tiny bathroom of the RV, and in a most undignified posture.

He finished wrapping the electrical tape around my ankles, examined his handiwork, then stood up. “It is a bit ridiculous, Miss Hanks, but I don’t know what else to do with you for the moment. I’m sorry that you’ll experience some discomfort during the next three hours. However, I must return to my post in the van so that Malachi can perform his miracles. We don’t want to disappoint all those generous Christians, do we?”

“You’re asking the wrong person, Mr. Fratelleon.”

“I suppose I am.” He stepped over my legs and washed his hands while I glared up at him. If my wrists had not been bound and secured to the pipe beneath the sink, I would have given him something that would have kept him disappointed for a long time.

He dried his hands on a guest towel embroidered with a likeness of his employer. “I should be back as soon as my duties are concluded and Malachi begins his final appeal for donations. In the interim, neither he nor Chastity will have any reason to come in here.”

“The man of God never has to answer the call of nature?”

“Malachi takes a childish pleasure in urinating in the grass behind the tent. As I was saying, while he’s finishing up, I’ll have ample opportunity to escort you to your car. We’ll be on our way well before anyone emerges from the tent.”

“On our way to the logging road?”

“We’ll search for a more secluded one. I had no idea Seraphina would be discovered so quickly. I would have much preferred to have had several weeks to convince Malachi that she had abandoned him in order to resort to a more secular lifestyle.”

“And abandoned her teenaged sister to his unhealthy sexual desires?”

“Seraphina never realized what was going on,” he said as he carefully folded the towel and replaced it on the rack. “But as you said to Malachi—”

“He told you?”

Fratelleon gave me a disappointed look. “He wears a microphone, too. How else could he cue the van when he felt ready to perform another miracle? I was monitoring various conversations earlier. The one you had with him caught my attention.”

“You should have been listening to CNN,” I said.

“You were perceptive when you told Malachi that Seraphina would have figured it out when Joey denied paternity. She was very close to it when I came out of the tent late Sunday night—or early Monday morning, to be accurate—in order to investigate the arrival of a vehicle and the loud voices. Chastity said something at the height of the argument that was incautious. Seraphina’s disillusionment would have resulted in the one thing that could destroy the corporation—unfavorable publicity. If Malachi was charged with a sex offense, even his most zealous followers might suspend their regular contributions.”

“You’re breakin’ my heart.”

“When you’re my age, you’ll appreciate why I long for financial security. I must ensure that Malachi has the resources to build the City of Hope. It will generate millions of dollars, a modest percent of which will end up in my portfolio. If Joey has the sense to remain with us, he’ll be a rich young man.”

“And Malachi will have Chastity all to himself,” I said. “He won’t have to worry about Seraphina finding out that he’s a crackpot crackpot, possibly a psychopath. How long do you think it will be before he decides he can walk on water and bring people back from the dead?”

“It’s only a matter of time,” Fratelleon said with a small frown, “but it will not concern me. I’ll see you in approximately three and a half hours.”

I tried to kick his leg as he stepped over me but hit the toilet instead. “It was a real stroke of luck finding the ignition key in Cory Jenks’s truck, wasn’t it?” I said to delay the inevitable as long as possible. I’m not claustrophobic, but I’m not fond of views limited to plumbing. “You knew from Norma Kay’s letters that she’d had an affair with him. All you had to do was borrow the truck long enough to drive to the high school and kill her, then take the whistle off his desk and plant it on Seraphina’s body to further implicate him. Were you afraid Norma Kay might stop sending checks if Chastity and Joey failed to get married?”

“Norma Kay Grapper took it upon herself to become involved in this. When she reminded me on the telephone that she could prevent her husband from selling the acreage to us if she chose, I knew I was going to deal with her sooner or later. As I walked back from the creek, it occurred to me that the key might be in the ignition. I decided to seize the moment. Until later, Miss Hanks.”

Once I heard the front door close, I did some dedicated wiggling and writhing. The tape around my ankles refused to stretch, and the tape binding my wrists to the pipe was too tight to allow me to try to get any friction against the pipe. I kept trying until I was exhausted. As I rested my head on the floor, I heard the crescendo of music and applause that accompanied Malachi’s entrance onstage.

I had less than three hours.

Two hours later my wrists were raw, but the damn electrical tape remained resilient enough to serve as a bungee cord. My buttocks were sore, and my forehead was bruised from being banged against the pipe. (Frustration had affected my depth perception.) The sounds of the revival weren’t improving my mood. Every “Hallelujah” from the tent elicited a distinctly less reverent exclamation from me.

One was forming on my tongue when I heard the front door open. I craned my neck to look at my watch. I had most of two hours left before I could anticipate Thomas Fratelleon’s arrival (and my subsequent departure). I had no idea what Malachi or Chastity would do upon entering the bathroom; anything from being freed to being peed on was a possibility.