The Killing Edge (17 page)

He stood. “Thanks, Myra. I think I’m all set. I really appreciate your help.”

She laughed, the color returning to her cheeks. “I’m always happy to help you spend your promotional dollars, Mr. Smith.”

Alana was there to see him out—and lock the door behind him.

He called Chloe soon after he left the mansion, thinking that she should just about be out of work, heading home. But she was still busy, doing paperwork. “I have to go out to the mansion with Victoria tonight for fittings.”

His fingers tightened around his cell phone. “I’ll go with you.”

He winced, realizing how curtly he had spoken, hoping she wouldn’t just tell him no.

She didn’t. He let out a breath as she said, “All right. We were supposed to be there at seven, but we’re going to be late. I can’t get home in time today. I’m writing up reports for the school board, and they have to go in tonight. Victoria is going to pick me up at my house about seven-thirty—she’s sure that Myra will be all right as long as we’re there by eight, eight-thirty.”

“I’ll be at your place by seven-thirty, too,” he said. “Victoria won’t mind me tagging along?”

“Would it matter to you if she did?” Chloe asked. “You sounded…pretty harsh a minute ago.”

“I’m sorry, but no, not really. I learned something about Myra today, and I’d really like to be around anytime you’re at the mansion.”

“What did you learn?”

He hesitated, remembering how she had reacted to the information about Maria Trenton.

Remembering that she had admitted to seeing ghosts.

“How about I show up at seven-fifteen and fill you in then?” he said.

“Very mysterious,” she said. “Tell me now.”

“Not over the phone.”

“Even more mysterious.”

He grinned. “Good. That means you’ll be happy to see me.”

“I’m happy to see you anyway,” she said.

Sitting in his car, he smiled. That was another thing he liked about her. She wasn’t a game player. She didn’t fish for compliments, she didn’t act aloof—she just said what she felt and meant what she said.

He grimaced. Maybe thinking about that wasn’t such a good thing. It reminded him of the night gone by.

“I’ll get to your place early, so I’ll be there whenever you make it home.”

“Leo gets in around six.”

“Then I’ll say hello to Leo.”

“Sounds good. Okay, bye. No, wait. You do know I’m going to be going crazy wondering what you’re planning to tell me, don’t you? Myra isn’t a prison escapee or anything, right?”

“No.”

“A transsexual?”

“Certainly not that I know about.”

“A foreign spy?”

“I very much doubt it. Now stop. I’ll tell you as soon as I see you, I promise.” She was silent for so long that he thought she might have hung up on him.

“I hope everything is okay with her. I like Myra. She’s always been nice to me.”

“I think I like her, too.”

“You
think?”

“You’re not getting any more out of me for now. I’ll see you soon.”

They hung up, and he used his phone to access the Internet and look up the Church of the Real People. The address was in an area near downtown Miami.

He pulled out onto the street, and started driving toward downtown.

He exited at Biscayne Boulevard, and fifteen minutes brought him to the church. He found street parking about a block away.

The building had clearly been designed for a Russian Orthodox congregation and sat in a mixed neighborhood of old houses and a few freshly painted and repaired commercial buildings near the city’s Design District. It was small but pristine—either the members could afford to pay for upkeep or they took care of the labor themselves. There was a small grassy area in front of it, and an actual yard on the eastern side, with picnic tables set up there under the shade of old oaks. There was a little iron gate at the front, and a
decorative wall surrounding the property. A sign on the gate read, All Are Welcome Here. He had to admit, there was certainly nothing menacing about the place’s appearance.

He pushed open the gate and started up the concrete walk. The front door was painted red. He tried the knob, and the door opened.

There were no statues of saints, no crosses, and there wasn’t actually an altar, just a slightly raised stage and a podium. The room was plain, almost barren. As he stood there surveying the area, a man rose from a front pew and turned to meet him. “Hello. Welcome. May I help you?” he asked.

The man was about fifty and balding. He was wearing jeans and a T-shirt that read, Church of the Real People, Living in the Real World.

“Hi,” Luke said, stepping forward. He offered his hand and introduced himself as Jack Smith. “I saw something about a potluck supper tomorrow night, and since I was passing by, I thought I’d come check it out.”

“Please, come in. I’m Brother Mario Sanz, an elder here. We’re all about welcoming people, about finding friends through God’s way. Peace, giving, helping one another. Despite the sun and the crowds, Miami can be a cold and lonely place. People come here following their dreams and too often find everyone else is in a hurry, busy worshipping money and searching for a perfect tan out on the beach. We’re here to welcome those who need friends, or just need a hand. We are about the human need for relationships, and learning to do unto others with warmth and kindness.”

And buying young girls from Brazil, Luke thought.

He nodded gravely, though, as if approving of such lofty principles. “I have to be honest with you, Brother Sanz. I want to come to the church. I want to come to the potluck supper. But I’m concerned. I’ve read some things…”

Brother Sanz lifted a hand. “Say no more. We are well aware of how we have been depicted, how evil and frightening we’re supposed to be. Two of our members were self-confessed murderers who committed heinous crimes ten years ago. Since then we’ve tried very hard to prove the truth, that those men were working entirely on their own. We have never spoken against others, never wanted to harm anyone. We feel only pity for those who put money and worldly goods above friendship and love.”

“But those men who were found dead in the Everglades—they
were
members of the church, right?” Luke said.

“We bar no man from seeking to find God here. I can only tell you—and the police know this as well, because they tore our church apart after the murders—that we cannot understand the insanity of the men who carried out such horror. Brother Michael was here at the time—he will tell you the same thing, too,” Brother Sanz said, pointing down the aisle.

A second man had come into the church from a side door. He looked close to sixty, but had all his hair. It was long and white. He wore a brown cotton robe, but it looked more like a bedouin’s dress than a monk’s.

“Brother Michael, this is Mr. Smith. He is hoping to join us, but he is concerned about the church’s past history.”

“Ah,” Brother Michael said, taking Luke’s hand. “There is real tragedy in how the world sees us, for we barely knew
those men. No one regrets more than we do that they used us to justify their own delusions. Can I give you a brochure? It’s about our work in the community, and the tenets of our church.”

“I’d be delighted,” Luke said. “I understand what you’re saying—an entire group can’t be held responsible for the actions of a few. You must have lost a lot of members because of it, though.”

“Some come into the church to stay, while others do not. This is a free country, and we are not God. We don’t see ourselves as his chosen, merely as his students. When we do not provide what our members need, they must move on. I do hope you’ll come to our supper Thursday night.”

“I’ll certainly try,” Luke said as he accepted the pamphlet Brother Michael handed him from a stack on the front pew.

He started away down the aisle, and then turned back. “Excuse me, I’m sorry, but one more quick question. Where does the church stand on relationships? You know, like marriage and homosexuality?”

“We obey the laws of the country and state,” Brother Michael said. “We don’t encourage divorce, but we don’t condemn it. We do believe that God created man for his role in life and women for their roles, as well. But we’re not a backward society here—we believe in education, and in a woman seeking achievement.”

“Family is everything,” Brother Sanz added.

“And if a member decides to leave the church, there is no problem if he stays friends with others who are still in the church?” Luke asked.

“Of course not.”

Luke hesitated one more minute, the personification of a man in doubt and trying to make his way past it. “You were both here—when the murders occurred?”

They nodded in unison.

“And you’ve stayed true to your beliefs and brought the church back,” Luke said.

“One day our church will be among the most thriving in the world,” Brother Michael assured him. “We are patient, and we will stay the course.”

“Well, thank you very much for answering all my questions. I’ll read this, and I’ll be seeing you,” Luke told them, then left, feeling as if the pamphlet were burning in his hands.

He didn’t have time to read it right away, but he would keep it for later. Right now he was anxious to get to Chloe’s house, to be there when she arrived. He realized he was eager just to see her face again. To be near her. And for much more. He cursed himself softly as he drove for getting so involved on an intimate level. He was only human, though, and having tasted her, now he wanted more. In fact, he wanted to forget everything about this case, and drown in the fragrance of her flesh and her warmth….

But he couldn’t forget the case. He didn’t know why he was so convinced that the Church of the Real People had something to do with Colleen Rodriguez’s disappearance and the possible danger facing others. But the strange facts were piling up—and they were definitely facts, not coincidences. Maria Trenton—who had been saved from being sold to a member of the church. And now Myra Allen—a past member.

Could Myra still be connected to the church? Was it possible she was somehow providing the members with…the occasional…what? Sacrifice?

He didn’t want to believe it or even think about the possibility. But far too often a killer turned out to be someone who was known, liked and trusted.

Even loved.

He gave his attention to the road then, making his way through the after-work traffic that clogged the streets.

When he reached Chloe’s house, he saw that Leo’s car was in the driveway inside the gate. He was all set to go in and see Leo when he picked up the pamphlet and started to leaf through.

The first picture was of Brother Michael, with a caption that read, “Helping children in poverty-stricken areas.”

Luke recognized the location.

The picture had been taken in the slums of Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

C
hloe managed to finish up by six-thirty. She was touched that Jim Evans had stayed late, too, so he could finish the mailing duties.

“Thanks. You’re a doll,” she told him.

“You look so tired, I thought you could use the help,” he told her.

“Tired—or old?” she asked.

He waved a hand in the air dismissively. “Tired. You’re a baby, Chloe. Twenty-seven. Are you trying to wheedle a compliment out of me?”

She laughed. “No, honestly. I’m just thinking about doing the shoot, that’s all. Vickie and I are actually pretty old when it comes to modeling.”

“Personally? I like models who look like adults,” Jim said. “Male or female. I may be gay—”

“No!” she teased.

He arched a brow, grinning. “The point I’m making is that most people like to look at pictures of pretty people, but male or female, gay or straight, I think we’re uneasy when we find out we’re perving over a kid. So my point is, you and Vickie are just the right age.”

“I knew I loved you for more than your phone skills,” she said, grinning and picking up her purse to go.

“Wait! Work is over, so spill,” he said.

“Spill?”

“I have never seen you look as good as you did when you walked in today. You were glowing. I think you’ve actually had sex.”

Chloe blushed. “Jim!”

“Don’t go getting all panicky. The only reason I can tell is because I know you. I’m pretty sure the doorman hasn’t figured it out.”

She groaned, completely at a loss for a coherent response.

“If it’s who I think it is, I like him. I hope you’re planning on having lots more sex with him,” Jim said. “He’s just the right kind of guy for you.”

“I’m only in it for the sex—and the photo shoot, of course,” she said.

“Oh, come on. I’m sure there’s a lot more going on.”

“No, there’s not, and there can’t be.”

“Why not?”

“He’s made it plain that he’s not looking for commitment. Which is cool, because I don’t want a commitment, either.”

“And why aren’t
you
looking for commitment? You should have a home and a family—you’re fabulous with kids.”

“I’m not ready, I guess. I don’t know. Maybe I’m afraid of getting too close to anyone.”

“Really? I kept thinking that you and Brad would hook up one day. He’s cute, employed, and one day he’ll split the family fortune with Victoria.”

“I love Brad, but we’re friends,” she said. “I could never take it any further than that.”

She realized that she had expected Victoria to feel the same way about Jared. But she’d been wrong. Victoria had been more than interested when she found out that Jared cared about her.

“Whatever. I don’t want to analyze my own problems at the moment. Just don’t go telling anyone that I’m having sex, okay?”

“I should put it on the Internet,” Jim said.

She groaned and waved, leaving the office at last.

Rush hour usually lasted much more than an hour—more like two or three—but she actually had a smooth ride home. She found her curiosity growing the closer she got to her house, so she was pleased to see Luke was already there, just as he had said he would be.

She waited impatiently for the gate to open fully, then pulled her car into the driveway and waited for the gate to close behind her.

Leo had taught her long ago never to get out of the car until the gate had closed—even if she knew she hadn’t been followed. It wasn’t that it would be impossible for someone
to break in, even with the alarms that protected the gate and the house, but Leo meant to make it hard. If anyone were to come after her, all she had to do was hit a button on her key chain and alarms as loud as radar sirens would go off.

She knew how loud they were, too, because once she had hit the button by mistake.

As soon as the gate was safely shut, she hopped out of her car and hurried up to the main house, fumbling to find the right key.

As she stood there, the door opened.

Uncle Leo was still in his work suit, though he’d gotten as far as loosening his tie and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt.

“I don’t like the way this is going,” he said as he stood aside to let her in.

She frowned. “The way what is going?” She looked past him and saw that Luke was standing in the family room, just past the archway that separated it from the entry hall. A little thrill of intimacy swept through her, but she told herself that it was just a result of how long it had been since she’d made love with anyone. Not to mention that he was by far the best lover she’d ever known, and it was impossible not to remember their lovemaking when she saw him. He was just so…touchable. And he touched so damn well in return.

Had Leo been talking about Luke?

She didn’t get a chance to ask him, because he headed straight back to the family room, clearly expecting her to follow.

He walked to the bar and poured himself a Scotch, without asking her if she wanted anything.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

Luke smoothed a stray lock of hair from his forehead. “I told Leo what I found out—and Stuckey, too, of course.”

She let out a sound of exasperation. “And what was that?” she demanded. “Seeing as I’m apparently the last to know.”

“Myra was once a member of the Church of the Real People,” Leo said flatly. “She’s changed her name since, and it was before—before the events at your friend’s house. But she
was
one of them.”

She looked at Luke curiously, wondering if he had also told her uncle about Maria.

Luke was watching her in turn, and she realized that he was concerned about how she would take the news. It was a startling discovery, certainly. But last night she’d been so shaken that maybe she just couldn’t be shaken any more. And she couldn’t fault someone who had been part of the church but then realized that there was something wrong with it and gotten out.

She was pleasantly surprised to see that Luke looked as if he wanted to rush over and hold her, protect her from danger—and disturbing news. But she really was all right now, she realized. She was stronger than anyone—herself included—had realized.

She lowered her head to hide her smile at how nice it was to see his concern, even if it wasn’t entirely necessary.

“I don’t think we can hold the past against Myra,”
Chloe said slowly. “You said that she’d left the church before the massacre.”

At the bar, Leo shuddered and swallowed his whiskey. “I’ll never forget. Never.” Then he met her eyes and added, “I’m sorry, Chloe. I didn’t have the right to say that. You were the one who was there.”

She nodded, walking over to join him by the bar, where she slipped an arm around his waist and smiled as he looked down at her. “I’m okay, honestly. So, Luke, what else did you find out?”

“Not much. I found her picture in some old records Stuckey got for me, and then I went to the mansion and managed to slip the information into the conversation. She told me there were lots of nice, normal people involved with the church, but she was uncomfortable with some of its tenets. She had joined for the same reason most young people join a cult, she needed something to fill an empty place in her life, and the church promised love and friendship and a place to belong.”

“The church denied any involvement in the murders—they swore the dead men acted on their own,” Chloe said. “Maybe the church itself
was
innocent, maybe those two men really did go off on that killing spree themselves, maybe they even believed in what they were doing.”

“I don’t know, Chloe,” Luke said. “I really don’t know. There was nothing the police could do to close the church down—not even while they were actively investigating—but I still find their message to be very mixed. I went by there today.”

“What?” she asked, startled.

“After I talked to you, I visited the church. It’s downtown, not far from the Design District. I met two of the elders…brothers…whatever. And I took one of their pamphlets.”

“Are you going to show it to me?” she asked.

He nodded. “They advertise their work in Brazil. There’s a picture of one of the men I met right on the first page, feeding kids in Rio.”

“And kidnapping young women—like your friend down in the Keys,” Leo said, answering Chloe’s earlier question as to how much Luke had told him.

“Technically, she wasn’t kidnapped. She was purchased,” she said.

“Sold into slavery,” Leo said. “The point is, I want to find out if Maria recognizes anyone in the pictures. If she sees someone she knows, I want to make certain that he’s prosecuted.”

“Uncle Leo, how can you help make sure that anyone is prosecuted
here
—for something that happened in
Brazil?
” she asked.

“If this man forced Maria to stay with him in the United States, I can see that a federal prosecutor brings charges.”

“But—”

“Maybe Maria can help us, Chloe. Maybe Colleen isn’t dead. Maybe she was taken by someone in the cult and is a prisoner now, just as Maria was a prisoner,” Luke explained.

“They didn’t do anything when Ted rescued her because he wanted her to stay safe and be able to stay in the States,” Chloe said.

“But she has her papers now,” Leo said impatiently. “She’s a legal resident, right?”

“A naturalized citizen, I think,” Chloe said. “But…reopening the case, bringing all that back up, would be awfully traumatic for her.”

She desperately wanted to find out what had happened to Colleen, though she was certain the girl was dead, but she was also afraid of shattering Maria’s existence.

A horn beeped outside, and Chloe swore.

“Chloe Elise Marin,” Leo said.

“Will you let Victoria in, please?” she asked him. “I’m running really late, and I have
got
to take a shower. It will only take me two seconds,” she promised.

She burst out the back way, fumbling with her keys once again, finally finding the right one and letting herself into her house. She started to race up the stairs, then raced back down and locked the door. Upstairs at last, she left her clothes wherever they fell, jumped into the shower and quickly scrubbed off the day’s grime. All the while, her mind kept spinning.

It was all so bizarre. She hadn’t heard anything about the Church of the Real People in almost a decade. And now…

Now it seemed to be everywhere. But what did it all mean?

She chose a simple knit strapless dress—easy on and easy off for her fittings—and a pair of sandals, and went racing back downstairs again.

When she returned to the main house, Victoria was in the family room with the two men, talking about a play she
had been asked to do in Coral Gables, with rehearsals conveniently starting the week after the shoot ended.

“I’m sorry,” Chloe said breathlessly as she joined them. “I’m really late, even though I managed to get out earlier than I’d expected.”

“No, no, it’s fine. I told Myra we’d probably be there around eight-thirty,” Victoria told her. “And I didn’t know that Jack was joining us. That’s great.” She fought to maintain a totally innocent expression as she looked at Chloe, but she was clearly delighted that Chloe might actually be getting involved—with a man.

“I’m glad it’s not a problem for you,” Luke said.

“Not at all. And after we finish, a late dinner would be great, don’t you think? Something light, since I think we need to be living on fish and lettuce for the next few weeks.”

“Speak for yourself,” Chloe assured her as she glanced at Luke and Leo, impressed with their ability to switch gears so easily. She still felt horrible, hiding the truth about Luke from Victoria. “I intend to order a steak.”

“You burn the calories,” Victoria said with a sigh. “Sadly, I don’t.”

Chloe laughed. “Okay, we’ll put you on nothing but alfalfa sprouts. Come on, let’s get going, or we won’t even make eight-thirty.”

“I can drive,” Luke offered.

“No, that’s okay,” Victoria said. “I have a gizmo that opens the gate so we can park right by the house.”

“Keep an eye on the girls,” Leo said firmly to Luke.

“Well, he can’t very well come in the dressing room,”
Victoria said lightly. But then she frowned, as if suddenly aware that Leo seemed tense. “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “To tell you the truth, I’m not exactly happy about either of you working with that agency, and I won’t be until Colleen Rodriguez is found.”

“We’ll be okay,” Victoria assured him. “Tonight we’re only going to the mansion. And Brad and Jared—
and
Mr. Smith—will be with us on the island, and we’ll all watch out for each other, just like we always have.”

“Good night, Uncle Leo,” Chloe said, giving him a kiss on the cheek to put an end to the uncomfortable conversation.

He took her by the shoulders, looking down into her eyes. “Stick with Luke, please?” he asked in a low voice for her ears only.

“I will,” she promised.

They went out to the car, where Chloe insisted that Luke take the passenger seat next to Victoria, since his legs were longer.

As Victoria drove, she asked Luke how things were going. “Did you like the island? Oh, how rude of me. I forgot to say thank-you. I hear you chose me to model your line, too.”

“You’re absolutely perfect for the Ethereal Collection,” he said.

In the backseat, Chloe noticed that he was getting awfully glib with his lies. He had to, she supposed, but it bothered her anyway.

She leaned back in the seat, watching the lights of the city as they drove. It was a quiet night. Even when they reached Miami Beach, the streets were oddly deserted.

“That’s strange,” Victoria said as they drove up to the gate.

“What’s strange?” Luke asked.

“The gate’s already open. They must have left it that way for the seamstress. She doesn’t have a clicker because they don’t use the same people all the time—depends on whether they’re fitting gowns or swimsuits and cover-ups. I doubt that we’re going to have many cover-ups for this shoot, though. They like to focus on the fact that we’re Florida girls and the beaches are sunny all year round. Though, frankly, not many natives are in the water in January.”