Careless Rapture (33 page)

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Authors: Dara Girard

Tags: #romance, #mystery, #family, #secrets, #washington dc

BOOK: Careless Rapture
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“Right. Well, if she calls you, could you
tell her to get in touch with me?”

“Sure.” He paused. “You sound worried. Are
you in trouble? Do you want to talk to me about it?”

“No, it’s a woman thing.”

“Okay, but you know if there’s anything—”

“I know. Love you. Bye.”

She sat on the front step and dialed Clay.
Once he picked up she said in a rush, “I can’t get a hold of
Cassie. I don’t know where she is and I think Emmerick might have
her and if he does this is all my fault and Drake will never
forgive me and I’ll never forgive myself—” Tears. choked her voice.
“We have to do something or--”

“Slow down, slow down,” he said. “What are
you on about?”

Jackie took a deep breath. “Emmerick called
me a few moments ago at my office and said he had someone from my
family. I thought of someone Weak and then thought of Eric, but
he’s fine. So are Adriana and Nina, and then I thought about Cassie
and she’s not home and I can’t get a hold of her and Drake hasn’t
heard from her and it will be all my fault because I didn’t tell
them—”

“Breathe. She could be running errands and
not have her phone.”

“And what if she isn’t? Oh, god, what if he
hurts her and—”

“He doesn’t work that way,” Clay assured her,
his calm voice attempting to break through her panic. “He’s trying
to scare you.”

“He’s succeeding.”

“Go home and I’ll meet you there.”

“But—”

His tone was patient. “Go home and I’ll meet
you there.”

She brushed away escaping tears. “Okay.”

Clay set the phone down and turned to Mack.
“That was Jackie. Emmerick called her.”

“Great, everything is on schedule. Action
time?”

“Exactly.”

 

***

 

Jackie’s mind flooded with terrible scenarios
as she whizzed through the traffic. She would never forgive herself
if anything happened to Cassie. Never. More disturbing thoughts
gripped her as she rode the elevator to her apartment. She nearly
screamed when her mobile phone rang. She scrambled through her
handbag and grabbed it.

Cassie’s voice came on the line. “Hi, Jackie.
Drake said you wanted to speak to me.”

Her knees buckled with relief, but she
managed not to slide to the ground. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re
okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She sagged against the wall, wishing she
could hug her. “I don’t know. I was just thinking about you and
wondered if you were doing okay.”

“I’m fine. How about you?”

She stepped out on her floor. “Good.”

“Now tell me why you’re worried.”

“It’s a long story. I promise to tell you
later.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise.”

“Don’t worry, when this is all over I’ll tell
you everything.”

She hung up, then entered her apartment. She
flopped on the couch, all her energy gone, and jumped up when
someone knocked on the door. She opened it and smiled at Clay’s
grim features. “That bastard was just trying to scare me. He
doesn’t have Cassie. Everybody’s safe.”

“No,” he said quietly. “Not everybody.”

A shiver of fear crept up her spine. “What do
you mean?”

“He has my mother.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

Jackie looked
at Clay, renewed fear creeping into her eyes. “He has your mother?
Are you sure?”

“Yes.” He came in and shut the door.
“Fortunately, had expected that.”

She watched him drape a garment bag over the
couch, perplexed. “How?”

“His tactics haven’t changed. I knew she was
seeing a man. When he started calling at three and five every
morning after she’d spent a night out with him, I made a guess as
to what was going on. The phone calls are part of the community
trying to get to you. They keep you tired and hound you so you
don’t have a chance to think.”

“Why would she get involved?”

“I’m not quite sure yet. Either she’s fallen
for his charms or he’s fallen for hers. My guess is the former.” He
zipped open the garment bag and handed her a purple robe with
hood.

She held it up. “What is this for?”

“We’re going to join a ministry,” he said,
taking off his jacket.

“A ministry?”

“Yes.”

“But look at us. I’m sure people will
remember a figure as big as you. And I won’t know what to do.
“There’s no way we’ll be able to fit in.”

“Don’t worry. The masquerade won’t last long.
But remember this: When you’re there, you are not to drink or eat
anything. Keep your eyes lowered, not only so he won’t see your
face, but because it is a sign of humility. Only listen in spurts,
count sheep if you have to. He modulates his voice to keep your
attention and you’ll find yourself listening even when you don’t
want to.”

She knew Clay’s calm should reassure her, but
it worried her more. “Are you sure you can beat him?”

“No, but I can’t afford to fail.”

Jackie pulled on the robe. “How will we know
where he is? Where she is?”

“This isn’t accidental, Jackie. It’s all been
planned meticulously. This is April. A holy season to him. A time
of annual awakening. He invites a select group of Careless Rapture
believers to come celebrate. It’s invitation only.”

“But we weren’t invited.”

He showed her a card. “Of course we
were.”

She took it from him and read its
inscription. “How did you get that?” She looked up at him.. “I
don’t understand.”

His penetrating gaze locked hers. “I don’t
want you to know too much, your innocence will keep you safe. Just
trust me.”

She took a deep breath. “I do.”

* * *

They drove under approaching storm clouds to
a dilapidated cabin in the Virginia mountains. Jackie saw three
other cars and a van parked along the gravel drive. There were no
other houses for miles.

“I’m nervous,” Jackie said, fiddling with her
robe. “Why did he call me?”

“My guess is that he first spoke to Bertha at
your house and assumed she was your relative. He wanted to scare
you.”

“Why?”

Clay shook his head, frustrated. “I haven’t
worked that out yet, but I will.” He knocked on the wooden door: A
robed figure answered. Clay said something in a low voice she
couldn’t decipher before they were let inside. About ten other
robed figures sat cross-legged in a circle in the empty room. The
sickly glow of candles cast shadows on the waIls and wooden floor.
She heard the hushed sound of rain.

It reminded Clay of his first gathering,
where the wind whistled through the cracks and he’d first heard
Emmerick’s powerful voice.

That same voice spoke now. “Glad you could
join us, friends,” he said. “Please sit and join the circle.”

Jackie resisted turning to Clay for guidance
and did as she was told.

“Now feel the energy rise up within you.
Embrace the light. Awaken your senses.”

“I call for a new awakening,” Clay said.

Emmerick paused and removed his hood. “I know
that voice.”

“Yes.”

“It’s the voice of a traitor.”

Clay removed his hood. “Or the voice of your
conscience.”

“How did you get in here?” he demanded.

“A little trickery.”

“I will not have you pollute this sacred
gathering.” Emmerick pointed at Clay. “Remove him.”

Two hooded figures stood, flashing large
knives with the promise of malice.

Clay said, “You disappoint me, Emmerick. I
thought you were a man of your word.”

“I am. However, we both know you are not. You
are a man of action. I wanted to level the playing field.”

“I’ve changed.”

“Very well.” He made a motion with his hand
and the knives disappeared. The guards sat.

“I know you have my mother.”

“Your mother?”

“Yes,” Clay said. “You made a little mistake
thinking she was part of Jackie’s family.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he
said simply. “Yes, I have a new recruit, whether she is your mother
or not is immaterial. She came of her own free will.”

“As Rennie had?”

“As they all do. You should know that. I do
not need to use force. I am a messenger of a higher power. That
power allows me to—”

“Indulge in extreme megalomania.”

Emmerick clapped his hands in exaggerated
applause. “Congratulations. That is a large word for a man like
you:’

“I’ve learned to read.”

“Then did you read anything about the Messiah
complex? I believe you are suffering from a form of it yourself.
Are you still tortured by the death of your sister and that other,
what was her name? Gabriella? Have you been spit on lately?”

Jackie started.

The group turned to her. Clay spoke quickly
to redirect their attention. “Those are my demons, you have yours.
I believe Rennie knew about them and that’s why she tried to stop
you.”

Emmerick hesitated. “How did you . . . Well,
it doesn’t matter anyway,” he said, unconcerned.

“What did she know?”

“Why rehash the past? I can’t be tried for
her death twice.”

“So you admit to killing her?”

His cool voice chilled the air. “I admit that
she’s dead.”

“At your hands.”

Emmerick clicked his tongue in pity. “Have
you come to avenge her, my boy? Does the anger linger still? You
will never have peace as long---”

“I think I know why you did it,” Clay
interrupted. “Perhaps she knew about your little habit. That though
you enjoyed your wives you had a preference for boys.”

“I do not have a preference in the way you
are trying to imply. Men, of course, are the stronger sex,
therefore given the bigger responsibility of this ministry.”

“It wasn’t the mission of the ministry that
brought you into my room that night. You became my traitor.” Clay’s
words fell like stones. “I tried to kill you for betraying a trust
I had believed was sacred. I can only guess that she saw you and
knew she couldn’t be married to you anymore.”

He shrugged. “All conjecture.”

“No, I think that was the truth. And I think
you knew you were in danger of losing control. You had me kicked
out, because to have someone leave would topple your kingdom. She
was a strong force and people would have followed her.”

“No.”

“Your surrender philosophy is a lie.”

“It is an ultimate truth,” he said with
conviction. “But you approach it with blind eyes. You see yourself
as a god. You who think you can save others and torment yourself
when you don’t. Isn’t there something debase in a man who thinks so
highly of himself?” He addressed the group. “There is true power in
surrender. To accept things as they are.”

“To choose death instead of life,” Clay said
gravely.

“Death chooses us. I welcome it. But why are
we arguing opposing philosophies? If you do not believe, then why
are you here?” He smiled with confidence. “You can’t do anything to
me.”

“I can charge you with kidnapping.”

His smile slipped. “What are you talking
about?”

“I’m talking about Amanda Heldon. The young
woman everyone thought was abducted.”

“I didn’t---”

“Kidnap her? No, not originally. In the
beginning, she came to you willingly. A colleague of mine pointed
out the possibility that Amanda may have run off to meet someone.”
He paused. “I basically dismissed the thought until I came upon
your Web site. Now, why would you need a Web site? You targeted the
poor, the disillusioned, the sick.” He snapped his fingers. “Ah,
but to fund such a group you need money, don’t you? By attracting a
wealthier demographic you could continue your work. Ask them to
donate their money to the cause. They would willingly empty their
pockets since they are just as eager for peace as the wino on the
street.

“So I had a missing girl and a Web site.
There was a picture of Amanda’s mother in her room. If you study
the picture you can learn a little bit about Amanda. She loved
bands. She had posters everywhere. Most of the groups I didn’t
know, except that one peeking from under the bed sounded familiar.
At first it looked like a Rave poster, then I looked more closely.
It had an innocuous statement splashed across the top with just
Careless Rapture
at the bottom. Very clever of you not to
use the word ‘ministry.’ No one paid attention. It could have been
one of the many bands she liked to listen to. Only, I knew what it
was. Do you want to tell me what happened or should I guess?”

Einmerick folded his arms, amused. “Enlighten
us.”

Clay took no offense to the condescending
tone. “A girl like Amanda is perfect for you. Eager to please,
eager to do well. Lonely and shy. She needed a friend and through
e-mails you convinced her you were one. You invited her to meet you
and you never let her go.”

“She’s decided to stay on her own. She’s a
true believer. She knows the dangers of the outside world.”

“Yes, a month with you would convince her of
that. But if she’s a true believer, let me see her face.”

Emmerick lifted a candle, then stood behind
one of the robed figures and lifted its hood. Amanda stared at him
with dark green eyes that looked like marbles—no emotions. That was
not a good sign. He would have to approach her carefully. She was
apt to be more loyal to Emmerick than she would be to him. Emmerick
moved to another figure and removed its hood. “Oh, and I believe
this is the one you call your mother. However, they’re both
mine.”

“I can’t allow that.”

“You’ll have to.” The candle cast dark
shadows against his face. “Then again, perhaps I could do you a
favor and let you have one of them.” He flashed a malicious grin.
“You’ve always wanted to play hero. Here’s your chance. Persuade
one of them to leave with you. It will be fascinating to see my
former protégé use the techniques I taught him. You were talented
when it came to persuasion. So who will be your choice?” He stood
behind Bertha. “Your mother? The one Rennie described as a slag?
The one who left you? The one who hurt you by throwing you out when
you needed her most? The one who always chooses the nearest man
over you? Isn’t it ironic that she did it again? Left you for
another man?” He rested a hand on his chest. “Me.”

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