Mother Before Wife (The Compound #2) (19 page)

“I hope you’re right.”

• • •

An hour later, I was seated in Jonathan’s office, filling him in on my conversations with both Clarence and Jorjina. When I finished, Jonathan sat straight up in his seat and his eyes bored into mine.

“Don’t tell me you’re giving up,” he insisted. “You’ve come so far. We’ve almost got him.”

“You don’t know that. What if I search the temple and find nothing?”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there. Right now, we still have to act as if all the answers are behind those locked doors. Every single one. You get me evidence, and I get a warrant. Don’t give up, Aspen. Please don’t give up.”

“But my kids . . . With every passing day, Ruthie gets closer and closer to becoming his wife. It makes me sick just thinking about it.”

“She’s not even twelve yet. You have over a year until the wedding.”

“It doesn’t seem so far away anymore.”

“How do you know the Prophet’s mother isn’t in cahoots with him? That she isn’t planting this in your head just to stop you from discovering something big. This could all be a setup—think about it.”

“No.” I shook my head decisively. “You don’t know Jorjina; she wouldn’t do that. She’s looking out for me, for all of us.”

He crossed the room and began to pace the floor. “I’m not so sure, Aspen. You said yourself he has everyone under his thumb. Why should his mother be any different? For God’s sake, she has to be in on it.”

I ignored him, knowing he was completely off base. Jorjina was on my side; I felt it with every fiber of my being.

“Tell me about the railroad.”

He stopped, recoiling slightly. “The what?”

“The day I first met you, you told me there’s a railroad that takes people out. Tell me about it.”

“Oh.” He returned to his desk chair. “Underground railroad. It’s a term that dates back to the Civil War when whites would help slaves escape to the north so they could be free. I heard on the news that there are former members of the FLDS who help existing members leave the compound.”

“Is it true?”

He shrugged, looking defeated. “I don’t know for sure, but I can find out.”

“Please do. I’m not saying I’m giving up, but I need to weigh all of my options, for my children’s sake. You understand, don’t you?”

“I don’t have kids yet, but yeah, I think I understand. And you don’t owe me anything. It’s just, with everything you’ve told me, I want this asshole behind bars where he can’t hurt anyone else, where he can’t marry underage girls and turn them into concubines.”

“Concu-whats?”

He sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Oh, Little House, I’d love to get inside your head. Just for a day.”

Uncomfortable, I shifted in my seat, not understanding why he would say something like that. “What do you mean?”

“Please don’t take offense. I mean, we’ve become friends, right? I wouldn’t want to upset you. It’s just, you’ve been so sheltered all your life. There’s so much about the world around you that you know nothing about.”

“And you think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

His eyebrows bunched and he shook his head emphatically as he sat up straight in his chair. “Hell no. You’re one of the smartest women I’ve ever met. You’re intelligent, you’re bold and assertive . . . more than most women I know, women who
have
been exposed to the outside world.”

“Then what do you mean?”

“I’m just fascinated by your viewpoint, that’s all. I’m fascinated by what makes you tick, how you see things, how you react to things.”

When I still didn’t look satisfied, he put his hands up in surrender. “I’m not explaining myself well. Just know that I think you’re an exceptional human being, and I’m glad I know you.”

“You make it sound like we’re saying good-bye, Detective.”

“Jonathan,” he said, correcting me yet again.

“I’m sorry, Jonathan. We’re
not
saying good-bye.”

“Prove it.”

“What?”

“Promise me you’ll unlock those doors before you make a decision about this. Promise me you won’t let that woman inside your head any more than you already have. You’re too strong to run away, Aspen. Way too strong.”

“I’ll do my best.” My words were noncommittal, and as he peered at me with his head tilted to one side, I knew he wasn’t convinced. The thought made me uncomfortable. “What?”

“Look, I’m not judging you. The amount of weight on your shoulders has to seem unbearable.”

“And you think I can’t handle it?”

“I
know
you can handle it; that’s not the issue. The issue is whether
you
think you can.”

“I can. And this isn’t good-bye.”

A slow smile brightened Jonathan’s face and he leaned back again in his chair, cradling his hands behind his head. “There she is. Welcome back.”

• • •

I walked out of Jonathan’s office feeling empowered, rejuvenated, and ready to tackle those locked doors. Perhaps I could sneak away that evening. Of course, I’d have to check the calendar to see if . . .

Oh no.

Paul was sitting on a bench in the lobby of the police station, his arms crossed, his eyes bloodshot, his jaw tight. A look of betrayal transformed his face when he saw me.

“Paul, what are you doing here?”

“I followed you,” he said through clenched teeth, keeping his voice low. He was angry, so very angry.

“I can explain.”

He rose from the bench and barreled toward me, his face only inches from mine, his eyes bulging from their sockets. “Why are you here, Aspen? Why?”

“It—it’s complicated.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed into a harsh squint. “You were the one who called the detective, weren’t you?”

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. He grabbed my arm, pulling me closer and baring his teeth.

“I knew it! I could see it; I could see that you knew each other. You tried to fool me, but I could see it. How could you betray me like this? I’m your husband!”

“Ma’am, are you all right?” A stocky police officer with fiery red hair stepped up and placed his arm between Paul and me. “Do you need assistance?”

“I, um . . .”

“Sir, I’m gonna have to ask you to step away from the lady.”

“She’s my wife. This is a domestic issue, and you have no reason to intervene.” Paul argued with the officer, but stepped away with his hands raised in front of his chest.

“Is that true, ma’am?” the officer asked, and I nodded.

“Yes, he’s my husband. He won’t hurt me.”

“I suggest you take this outside,” the officer said, “and that you keep your hands to yourself, sir.”

“Yes, Officer,” Paul said.

As we walked in silence back to the house, Paul stayed six steps in front of me at all times. He was too angry to discuss my actions any further while in public. And although I hoped that he and I would part ways after entering through the front door, he followed me back to my bedroom, and closed and locked the door behind us. This wasn’t going to end well.

“How long have you been working with the police?”

“I don’t want to answer that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t think you really want to know.”

“What are you doing, Aspen? Why are you consulting with police officers behind my back?”

“I tried to go to you, but you rejected me. You didn’t want to hear it, so I’m handling this on my own.”

“Handling
what
?” he roared.

“The Prophet.”

“Again with the Prophet? I don’t understand you. He found Jeremiah, and still you won’t let things go. Ruthie will be just fine, Aspen. She’s excited to marry him; can’t you see that? He’ll treat her well. She’ll have lots of babies and be treated like royalty by everyone around her. Why are you the only one who can’t see that?”

“Because it all goes back to the temple. I caught him with those men, and he’s been punishing me ever since. He took Jeremiah, Paul, he didn’t find him! He admitted it himself last night.”

“Last night? Are you delusional? Last night, he joined us for supper and then went home. I was with him the entire time.”

“That’s not true. When Jorjina wiped his face, he went to the girls’ bedroom. Ruthie was sitting at his feet like a trained puppy, and I interrupted. He asked her to leave, and then he admitted it. He admitted everything.”

“You’ve lost your mind, haven’t you? The Prophet admits
nothing
. Especially not something as ludicrous as kidnapping!”

“He did. He told me that this is all for his amusement. He’s the puppet master controlling all of us, you included.”

“Can you hear yourself? You’ve obviously gone insane!”

“No, you just want to bury your head in the sand and pretend life around you is harmonious, Paul. But that’s not the real world. The Prophet is an evil man who controls all of our lives. You just don’t want to face it because you know he can take everything away.”

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. You know he’ll punish you. He’ll take your wives away, your children. He’ll throw your belongings on the front lawn and lock you out of your own house. You know it. That’s why you refuse to see the truth that’s right in front of your eyes.”

“Damn you, Aspen! Stop it!”

“No, I won’t stop, not until you admit the truth.”

“The truth? You want the truth? The truth is I’d rather see you in the grave than for you to go against my Prophet. That’s the truth!”

His eyes were wild, his hands drawn up in tight fists as he screamed. He lunged toward me but froze in place, turning instead to grab our wedding photo from my bureau.

“Paul, don’t!”

He threw the frame across the room, shattering the glass against the wall. The wood frame left a gash in the periwinkle paint.

The air whooshed from my lungs as I took several steps back, staring at my husband in disbelief. I placed my hand over my heart and spoke.

“You’d rather see me dead than face what he’s doing to me? To all of us?”

“Just because you say it’s so, doesn’t make it true.”

“But it is—if you would just listen.”

“Clarence was right. You’re a wicked, manipulative woman who exploited my attraction to you. You’ve taken advantage of every kindness I’ve ever given you, and you’ve tried to turn me against my brother, against my faith, against my Prophet. You had my heart, my devotion, my love, and you squandered it. All of it. Shame on you, Aspen. Shame on you.”

“Paul, this is absurd. Please, just hear me out.”

“No!” He shook me off. “I’m done. Don’t speak to me
ever
again. Don’t come to me, don’t cry to me, don’t do . . . anything. You’re an apostate in the eyes of the Prophet, and so you’re no longer my wife. You’re the mother of my son and nothing more.
Nothing
more.”

And with that, my husband left me standing in the center of my bedroom, unable to move, unable to process the venom that had spewed from his angry mouth. Tears streamed from my eyes as I sank to my knees, and I pressed my forehead into the carpet as I sobbed. My marriage was destroyed.

After I spent hours on the floor, my tears finally stopped and reality set in.

Clarence was right—Paul was the Prophet’s puppet, and he was pulling those strings more than I ever thought possible. Even though I didn’t think Paul would force me to leave, I couldn’t be certain, and I didn’t know how much longer I’d be allowed to stay in his home.

I had to act fast. I had to compartmentalize my heartache, my devastation, and press forward. There was no way to know how much time I had left on the compound, the only home I’d ever known.

I couldn’t avoid it any longer.

I had to unlock those doors.

Chapter 24

“Do not question your father, your husband, your Prophet. We know best.”

—The Prophet, Clarence Black

 

Aspen

The small metal hairpins dug into my palm as I clutched them tightly. With my other hand, I closed the gate and walked toward the new temple, willing myself to breathe slowly in and out, in and out.

My senses were on high alert, and so I recognized the familiar sound of footsteps that clipped behind me. Without hesitation, I whipped around to face whoever was following me, and wasn’t surprised to see her face.

Pennie.

Irritated, I glowered at her, placing both hands on my hips. My confidence in Pennie, in Paul, and in any other member of my family was gone forever. No one could be trusted.

“What do you want?”

“I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

“Lower your voice,” I whispered harshly into the cold night air.

It was just after midnight, and ours were the only two voices to be heard. As hers echoed into the night air, I was skittish. No one could know where I was going or what I planned to do when I was there.

“What is it?”

Pennie, her face pale and mournful, reached into her pocket. “What is this?”

I stared at the lock in disbelief. “Where did you get that?”

“Under your bed. I was playing on the floor with Jeremiah, remember? And I accidentally brushed it with my foot.”

“Sure, you did.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes and looking away. “And you couldn’t have just left it, right? You had to take it with you. Why? You felt like having a spare?”

“I was worried about you.” Pennie placed her hand over her heart, and I pursed my lips. “Aspen, it’s the truth, I swear it.”

“I don’t believe you.” I shook my head. “This isn’t the first time you’ve followed me. You probably searched every square inch of my room, didn’t you? What else has he made you do?”

“I don’t know what you mean.” Her eye twitched and she shifted her weight. She was lying through her teeth.

“You’re a terrible liar, Pennie.” I mocked her, wanting to embarrass her after she’d betrayed my trust so blatantly. “Now, give it to me.”

Pennie placed the lock in my hand and stepped back, then buried her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

Heat raced through my body like an angry fire. “How long have you been spying on me?”

“Aspen, I promise I’m not.”

“You expect me to believe that these are all coincidences? Following me to the temple, snooping around my bedroom—”

“I wasn’t snooping!” she cried out, her voice growing agitated.

“Just tell the truth. I
know
he sent you, just admit it!”

Pennie stared at the dirt road beneath our feet, her lips pressed together tightly.

“I don’t have time for this,” I snapped. “Go home.”

“I want to help you. Whatever it is you’re doing, I want to help.”

“Why?”

She scratched the top of her head. “Because aside from my children, you’re the most important person in my life.”

Nonsense.

“Liar.”

“It’s true. My friendship with you, it’s paramount.”

I crossed my arms in front of me, cocking one hip to the side, my words drenched in cynicism. “More than your marriage to our husband?”

She hesitated, biting her lip as she broke eye contact. She nodded, but I didn’t believe her.

“Then why are you spying on me?”

“I haven’t told him anything.”

“And you expect me to believe that? How stupid do you think I am?”

Her voice croaked and her eyes grew teary as she spoke. “It’s true. Paul, he . . . he came to me weeks ago and asked me to keep a close eye on you, to let him know if you did anything out of character. But I’ve told him nothing, not about you going to the temple . . . or the lock. I’m here because I’m worried about you. You’ve been different for months, and I can’t figure it out. I haven’t said a word to Paul. I wouldn’t do that to you; I swear to you on the lives of my children—”

My head shook slowly back and forth. “Shame on you, bringing innocent babies into this.”


I’m telling you the
truth
.” She walked toward me and placed her hands on my shoulders, but I jerked away.

Pennie recoiled, taking a step back. “Why can’t you believe me? Why are you treating me like the enemy?”

I glared at her. “Because I can’t trust
any
of you anymore. You can stand here all night long, you can swear on the lives of everyone in this damn compound, and it won’t make a bit of difference. Your words will fall on deaf ears.”

She opened her mouth to speak, but said nothing. Instead, she wiped her eyes with the back of her jacket sleeve. The harsh denim left her pale skin irritated and inflamed.

“I’m begging you, Aspen, please. I haven’t told him anything. Not a thing. You can confide in me, you can.”

A lump formed in my throat. I wanted to believe her, so very badly.

Don’t be foolish. If Paul catches you in the temple, you’re done for.

“Please . . . just go home.”

We stood in the quiet night, faced off in a deadlock. Pennie begged me with her eyes, but I wouldn’t budge. I was alone—all alone. There was no one on the compound or in my family that I could depend on. I couldn’t entertain the idea of accepting Pennie’s help because it would only lead to more heartache, anguish, and possibly an immediate eviction from our home.

Be smart, Aspen.

“All right.” Pennie finally submitted after several minutes, knowing my stubborn streak was much longer than hers. She turned to walk back to the house, and whispered loudly over her shoulder, “Please be safe.”

• • •

“Please, please, please! Come on, please.”

Again and again I attempted to manipulate the hairpins as I’d done dozens of times before. But the lock wouldn’t budge.

This can’t be happening!

I’d stood on the third floor of the temple for over an hour, attempting to pick several of the locked doors, but to no avail. Something was wrong. The lock felt different, more complicated. My back was aching, my knees were growing weak, and my frustration was mounting. I needed help.

Quickly, I retrieved my phone and texted Jonathan.

 

Aspen
: I can’t open these doors. No matter what I do, they won’t budge. I don’t know what to do. Please help!

 

After I attempted to maneuver the hairpins again for several minutes, my phone finally chirped with a response.

 

Jonathan
: I was worried about this. He may have installed security pins. It’s getting more common, especially with new construction.

 

Aspen
: What do I do? I can’t give up now!

 

Jonathan
: Call me. We’ll figure this out.

 

With shaky hands, I found his number in my contacts and clicked on
Detective Cooke
. He answered immediately, and I wasted no time with pleasantries.

“I’ve been practicing for hours. Please don’t tell me I’ve done this for nothing.”

“No, I’m not . . . I’m not saying that.” Jonathan’s hesitation deceived him. He knew this was over.

“Then what
are
you saying? You never said anything about security pins! Why didn’t you warn me about that?” I snapped.

When the other end of the line remained disturbingly quiet, I panicked.

I can’t lose Jonathan. I just can’t! Fix this, Aspen. Fix it now.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry; I didn’t mean to yell. I’m just—”

“I know. I won’t take it personally.”

Tears built in my eyes and I fought them off as best I could, but one slipped down my cheek. I wiped it as quickly as it came.

“I’ve practiced that lock for days, alienated myself from my family, and done irreparable damage to my marriage. I’ve come
way
too far to leave empty-handed.”

“Damage to your marriage? Are you all right?”

Please don’t feel sorry for me. I can’t stand that.

“I will be.”

“Wait, I just thought of something.” Jonathan’s voice perked up. “His office. Weeks ago, you told me he locked his office right before his sermon, but that he never used to lock it. Maybe there’s something in there, something to implicate him. That’s in the old temple, right?”

“Yes.”

“How old is that temple?”

“Older than me. Probably fifty or sixty years old.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll bet he’s covered his tracks carefully with the new building, since he can do it without raising any eyebrows. No one will know what locks he’s installing with all the construction. But I’m guessing he hasn’t thought to switch the locks in the old temple. Can you go there? Tonight?”

“Yes, of course. It’s several blocks away, but I don’t care. I’ll do whatever I have to do; you know that.”

“I do.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, it may amount to nothing, but you have to try. You have to find out what this fucker’s hiding. Shit, I’m sorry.”

An uncomfortable laugh left my throat. I surprised myself with how accustomed I’d grown to his profanity. It hardly bothered me anymore.

“It’s fine. We’re both at our wit’s end. Believe me, I’d love to scream some obscenities right now. It seems like it’d be a tension releaser.”

“It is.” He chuckled into the phone. “You should try it. Right now. C’mon, go for it!”

“This isn’t the time or the place, Detect—sorry. I mean, Jonathan.” I placed the hairpins in my pocket and threw my flashlights into my knapsack.

“You’re right. But seriously, don’t give up. I have a feeling you’ll find everything you need at the temple. Let’s nail this scumbag.”

“I’ll call you if I find something, all right?”

“When.”

“What?”

“Call me
when
you find something. You’ve got this, Aspen. You do.”

I wanted to believe him, to bottle his confidence and inject it into my own brain. But I couldn’t. I was just a woman on the brink of expulsion, determined to save my babies and desperate for answers. Any answers I could find.

And so I hung up the phone, placed it in my knapsack, and made my way from the new temple to the old. I hoped that soon I’d be dialing Jonathan’s number once again—only this time with the answers we both thirsted for.

Other books

Myles Away From Dublin by Flann O'Brien
Cocaine's Son by Dave Itzkoff
Love Doesn't Work by Henning Koch
The Sylph Hunter by L. J. McDonald
Marrying Mike...Again by Alicia Scott
Detroit Combat by Randy Wayne White
The Last Resort by Oliver, Charlotte