Joan Hess - Arly Hanks 08 (15 page)

"Dr. Sageman doesn't seem to agree," I said neutrally.

"Brian wanted to learn the truth. In Denver he made a very astute comment about the likelihood of alien input on the Aztec calendar. It predicts eclipses with uncanny accuracy.

I hastily changed the subject. "Where were you last night from seven o'clock onward?"

"Right here. I've already started my next book, which will explore the mysterious events in Maggody. I'm thinking about calling it Intraterrestrial Intrusion. Do you think that sounds too threatening?"

"Not at all, Dr. McMasterson. Did you have any conversations on the telephone?"

"I called my wife to share my feelings about the crop circles. This latest manifestation makes it all the more exhilarating, doesn't it? It's the closest I've ever come to being in the immediate area when the phenomenon actually transpired. When I was there earlier this morning, I could still feel the fallout from the ionization."

"Wait a minute," I said, rubbing my temples. "What latest manifestation?"

The glint in his eyes was almost blinding. "Two new circles formed during the night. They extend on a perpendicular axis from the middle of the original circles. The pattern is growing in complexity and beauty." His face froze with horror, and his voice rose a full octave as he said, "Does this have something to do with Brian's death? There's never been any documented evidence that the intraterrestrials have harmed anyone. They move among us in a quintessence of love, guiding us with various revelations until the time comes that we are ready to accept them."

I stood up. "At this point I'm trying to get a picture of what happened to Brian. If I interrogate any aliens, I'll let you know what they say." I stopped in the doorway. "You were working in this room at eleven o'clock when Dr. Sageman asked you to take Dahlia home, right?"

"I could hardly refuse. Frankly I was curious about what had transpired during the session. There are rumors afoot that Arthur is running out of subjects. His last two presentations at conferences were essentially identical, and sarcastic comments were heard in the lobby afterward. If he doesn't come up with some fresh material, he may find himself paying the registration fee and sitting in the audience."

My instincts said "run," but my mouth said, "Did Dahlia provide fresh material?"

"I've listened to tapes of Arthur's sessions. He's very adept at leading the subjects exactly where he wants them to go. From what Dahlia said in the car, I suspect she cooperated so well that Arthur could barely get in a word. Her purported experiences are interchangeable with Rosemary's. I asked her if she'd read any of the books, and she admitted that she had. Arthur encourages his subjects to do their homework before the sessions."

I went to my car and made a few notes, then decided to escape the madness for a few minutes by driving out to the place where Brian had set up the equipment. I did so without enthusiasm, since it occurred to me I'd failed to investigate the Incident. I'd dismissed it as mass hysteria, but a slew of more ominous incidents had taken place since then.

The rental car was parked behind the Esso station, its windows up and doors locked. The car keys had not been found in Brian's pockets. They were not in the ignition, but they could have been stuck in a camera bag.

I slithered down the slope and walked upstream, this time unencumbered by television reporters, sightseers, and yellow tape. The camera bags were in a tidy row near the tripod. I glanced through the camera, which was aimed at Raz's field, then found binoculars hanging from on a branch and took a better look. As McMasterson had promised, there were two recent arrivals linked to the originals. I raised the binoculars and tried not to groan as I counted a dozen people behind the barbed wire fence. Raz was apt to be by the gate, his cheek bulging with chaw and his pockets with money.

There were no oversize footprints in the mud, nor were there any new burn marks. The flattened weeds had recovered. I searched all the bags and found a second camera, lenses, film, cassettes, a camcorder, a tape recorder, drawings and diagrams of the circles, a notebook filled with scribbled numbers, a rolled-up jacket, and three 100 percent natural granola bars.

What I did not find were car keys or a note similar to the one addressed to Dr. Sageman. At seven o'clock Brian had begun setting up the equipment. If he'd been below the low-water bridge two hours later, when Cynthia, Ruby Bee, and Estelle arrived, he surely would have made known his presence. Therefore, I decided (albeit tentatively), he had not arrived until after they left at approximately nine-thirty.

I'd found his body at eleven. At some point during the hour and a half Brian had abandoned a lot of equipment and gone downstream. Had someone arrived with the story about the crashed disk and then offered him a ride? Why hadn't he stopped to tell his employer?

The equipment was too valuable to remain where it was, and I had no reason to think we needed to do a detailed investigation of the area. Scowling, I repacked all the bags and made three trips to my car, then went to the rental car and peered through all the windows in hopes I might spot the car keys. The town budget had not yet been able to supply me with the gadgetry to unlock a car door, so I wrote down the license plate to pass on to the rental agent, then drove back to the PD to get started on a third pot of coffee.

"They've started killing people," Mrs. Jim Bob said, her lips so tight she could barely squeeze out the statement. It wasn't exactly an accusation, but there were overtones. "Last night down by the creek they killed an innocent young man. I tried to warn everybody that these aliens were likely to be immoral and without regard for human life. I did my best."

Brother Verber shifted uncomfortably on the pew as hazy memories fluttered through his mind. "If that young man was innocent, what was he doin' by the creek? It seems to me it's more likely that he was down there for one reason, and one reason only. He sweet-talked an innocent young girl into fornicating on a blanket with him, and the Good Lord decided to smite him."

"With poisonous gas? The Good Lord works in mysterious ways, but in this case a bolt of lightning would have been more fitting." She paused to savor the image of cremated flesh, then noticed his distress. "Did you go traipsing alongside the creek last night, Brother Verber?"

"Why, Sister Barbara," he said as sweat trickled down his back and spread beneath his armpits, "I have been devoting all my time to the preparation of a plan to convert the heathen aliens to Christianity. I saw in the Probe that over at the Vatican there's a team of astromissionaries getting ready to go forth and spread the Gospel. I was thinking I might write a letter to the pope hisself and see if he wants a look at my lesson plans. I don't want to sound immodest, but I found some real clever ways to link Noah's ark with their flying saucers."

She wasn't convinced, but she didn't really have time to explore the matter further because it was almost time for Sunday school. "I have come to you for guidance about another matter of spiritual concern. It's of a delicate, personal nature and requires the utmost confidentiality." She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one had crept into the Assembly Hall, then lowered her voice and said, "It has to do with Jim Bob."

"Sister Barbara," he said, squeezing her knee to comfort her in her time of trouble, "I am so sorry to hear that. Every time I think we've got Brother Jim Bob all straightened out and heading down the glorious sunny highway to heaven, he takes a detour." He squeezed her knee some more so she'd find inner strength. "Has he been making indecent demands on you? Shall we pray before you commence to tell me what disgraceful and decadent things he's made you do in the name of holy matrimony?"

She tried to ease her knee free, but he was hanging on like a clamp and breathing right in her face. "I'm starting to suspect Jim Bob has made some kind of deal with Raz Buchanon -- and what's the first word that comes to mind when you hear Raz's name?"

"Marjorie?" Brother Verber hazarded, more than a little disappointed to have the subject of lasciviousness (or maybe perversity) yanked out from under him like a throw rug.

"Moonshine. Lately Jim Bob has lied about working late at the SuperSaver, which is not uncommon behavior on his part when he has a hussy waiting for him in a trailer somewhere. However, earlier this week, when I happened to be parked across the road, I saw him drive away right as it started getting dark. I decided to follow him. He went by the Pot o' Gold, but he didn't turn in there."

Brother Verber's eyes were wide with disbelief. "He didn't? Praise the Lord, Sister Barbara."

"I had to stay back a goodly distance so he wouldn't notice me," she continued, her voice increasingly tight. "When I got to the top of the hill by the Stonecrop County sign, his car was gone. He turned on one of those logging roads. And we both know where those logging roads go, don't we?"

"To Cotter's Ridge?"

"We already were on Cotter's Ridge at the time, Brother Verber. Everybody in town knows that Raz Buchanon runs his still up there. I'm afraid that Raz is so busy with those folks wanting to gape at the circles that he asked Jim Bob to help him with some deliveries."

"I am shocked. Jim Bob certainly lacks your fine-tuned morality, but the thought of him delivering moonshine to men who'd as soon spend their paychecks on devil's drink as take care of their wives and children -- oh, the pain you must be feeling!"

He was right about that, since he was squeezing her knee so hard she was about to cry. Mrs. Jim Bob had to remind herself that she couldn't do that because she was strong and brave and pure of heart, to list only a few of her virtues. "I don't know what to do," she said with a slight wince. "If I confront him, he'll deny it, just like he always does. But moonshining's a federal crime, and if he gets arrested, the judge could slap him with a fine that'd make us bankrupt. We could lose the store, the house, my Cadillac -- everything!"

Brother Verber released her knee so he could clasp his hands. "What a painful, painful picture you're painting, Sister Barbara. Let's get down on our knees and pray that the Good Lord will see fit not to let Jim Bob get caught by the revenue agents and end up causing you to lose everything you've worked hard for all these years." He hit the floor like a load of concrete, positioned his hands on the back of the pew, and squeezed his eyes closed.

"I'll pray from the pew," she said as she rubbed her tender knee. She lowered her head, closed her eyes, and prayed fervently that she could find a lawyer to transfer all the assets to her name before Jim Bob was arrested.

Thus the only person with open eyes in the Voice of the Almighty Lord Assembly Hall was Lottie Estes, who was in the storeroom. She'd been sorting through sheet music for the eleven o'clock service when she first heard voices, and not wanting to interfere with spiritual guidance, she'd kept quiet. Quiet as a church mouse, you might say.

"It is so kind of you to give me a ride to the hospital," Rosemary Tant said as she waved out the car window at a child on a bicycle. The child, a mutant Buchanon, raised a finger in response before pedaling away on a bicycle I would have bet my paltry paycheck was stolen.

"I need to speak to Cynthia," I said, "and this gives us an opportunity to discuss what happened last night. The crime squad should be finished with your car by noon. I'll Pick you up later and take you to get it."

"I still cannot believe that nice young man passed away. He was always so polite to me, as if I were someone special, and after a session he'd pour me a cup of tea without me so much as saying a word. Last year we had a session in which an alien used me as a vehicle to speak directly to Arthur about turbulence on a distant planet from within the constellation Canis Major. I was absolutely exhausted, and Brian -- "

"You were in the room during Dahlia's session," I said. "Did anything unusual occur?"

"There is nothing usual about a session that uncovers an abduction," she said carefully. "It is always fraught with profound and raw emotions. Although Dahlia was understandably fearful before we started, she did remarkably well. Arthur was especially pleased when she described the interior of the spacecraft. Many of us have had identical experiences, which goes to prove we are not dreaming or relying on our imaginations."

"Ms. Tant, I'm not interested in what was said last night. I need to know what happened between seven and eleven o'clock. The session began at seven?"

"About then, yes."

"And at eleven Dr. Sageman asked Dr. McMasterson to take Dahlia home?" I watched her nod. "During that time did you see or hear anyone out in the parking lot?"

"I didn't hear anyone, and I was sitting with my back to the window, so I couldn't have seen anyone. I was not only running the tape recorder but also making little sketches and drawings as Dahlia went along. I use colored pencils because so often there are bright lights in certain arrangements."

"Oh," I said as we passed the Farberville airport. A plane came roaring down at us in a kamikaze fashion, cleared the roof of the car by a few feet, and bounced onto the runway. "Your car was parked right in front of the unit you were in. Didn't you hear anything when Cynthia drove away?"

"Oh, I certainly heard the car. You asked me if I heard anyone, so I assumed you meant persons."

"Did Dr. Sageman mention it?"

"He was irritated because the noise startled Dahlia while she was at a very significant moment in her narrative, and she came very close to tumbling off the bed. When we heard a second car, he went so far as to step outside to find out what was going on."