Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series) (30 page)

BOOK: Just Keep Sweet (The Compound Series)
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She shrugged and released an uncomfortable laugh that made Isaac squirm. “That’s an emotion I’ve gotten quite accustomed to these days.”

Isaac nodded as he took another bite and washed it down with his water. Even though he was quite skilled at reading Mother Aspen, knowing how to respond to her was something else entirely. He didn’t have a clue what to say. Luckily, Mother Aspen usually let him off the hook.

“I’m going to find him.”

“All right.”

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” Mother Aspen said, her eyebrows pulling together.

Isaac shrugged. “Nah, I’m fine. I’ll just eat my food.”

“Okay, sweet boy. I’ll be back in a bit.”

Isaac drained the cup and took another bite of his bagel as Aspen quietly left the room. The cream cheese stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he knew it was time to refill his cup. He grabbed the plastic cup, hopped to his feet, and opened the door of the closet. As soon as it was open, however, he wished he could turn back time, to slink back into the closet and hold his breath.

There in the doorway of the study stood Aspen’s daughter Ruthie, and her mouth was agape as she stared at him.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. “I thought you got kicked out.”

“Shh,” Isaac said, panicked. His heart was racing beneath his T-shirt, and his hand trembled as he gripped the knob of the closet door.

Quickly, Ruthie closed the door of the study and stood with arms crossed in front of her, glaring at Isaac. “You’d better tell me or I’ll rat you out so fast your head will spin.”

“How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t.” She rolled her eyes. “My mother toasted a bagel, spread cream cheese on it, and then wrapped it up and put it in her pocket. She hates bagels, never touches them.”

“So?”

“So, I knew it was for someone else. And since she was acting so weird, I followed her down here. She thinks I’m organizing the pantry with Mother Pennie.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Isaac whispered, terrified someone else would find him as well. Ruthie was just a kid, so normally he wouldn’t be too concerned about her discovering him, but since she was due to marry Clarence Black, just the sight of her made his heart pound in his chest.

“I do what I
want
,” Ruthie said, moving her hands to her hips and cocking one hip to the side.

“Please don’t tell anyone.”

“The prophet wants you gone. So, why are they hiding you?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

“Didn’t you hear me? If you don’t tell me, I’ll march right over to the prophet’s house this instant and I’ll tell him exactly where you are.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, wouldn’t I?” She glared at Isaac and his stomach flipped. His hand was forced; he had no choice.

“It’s a long story, but . . . but they’re hiding me until . . .”

“Until what?”

“Until the warrant is ready.”

“What’s that?”

Isaac shrugged. “I don’t know.”

Ruthie raised a wicked eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.”

Isaac looked around the room, attempting to stall, wishing he’d stayed put inside the closet. Wishing his little sister wasn’t such a spoiled, rotten human being.

“Isaac, tell me or else.”

“Fine, okay, we went to the police.”

“The police? Like the actual police?” She looked horrified. Her eyebrows pulled tight just like her mother’s.

“Yes.”

“Why?” she asked, then pressed her eyes closed and waved her arms in front of her. “They’re trying to keep me from marrying him, aren’t they?”

Isaac weighed his options. He could spill his guts and tell her what his uncle had done to him at the temple or he could allow her to jump to her own conclusions. He decided, in the short amount of time he was given, on the latter.

“Yes.”

Ruthie threw her arms in the air and groaned. “Why is she doing this? Why can’t she let me live my life?”

“I don’t know.”

She stalked toward him, invading his personal space. He took a step back as her rant continued. “It was a revelation, Isaac. Do you know what that means? Heavenly Father wants me to marry our prophet. He
wants
me to be part of the chosen family. Why can’t she just be happy for me? Why does she have to make everything about herself?”

“I don’t know,” Isaac said, his hands still trembling at his sides.

“Are the police going to tell the prophet he can’t marry me? That I’m too young?”

“I think so,” Isaac said with another shrug. “I don’t really know.”

“So, why are they hiding you? What do you have to do with any of it?”

“Papa’s trying to protect me from the outside world.”

Ruthie’s face softened slightly. “That makes sense, but you deserved to be kicked out, didn’t you? I mean, if the prophet thinks so, then you must have done something bad. Like, really bad.”

“That’s what he says, but I didn’t. I promise you.”

Ruthie rolled her eyes. “You expect me to believe you instead of my prophet? Puh-lease.” She crossed her arms again.

Some of Isaac’s siblings were really good at thinking on their feet, at making up fibs to get out of trouble. Isaac, however, was never good at that. Not at all. He searched his brain for something to tell Ruthie, something to placate her, to gain her tolerance. But his mind was blank, which happened any time he was overwhelmed. It was like the nerves in his body conspired to trip him up by wiping his brain clean of any kind of coherent thought. So, instead of coming up with a quick-witted story, he resorted to begging. He wasn’t proud of it, but it was the last and only option he had.

“Please don’t tell anyone I’m here, Ruthie.
Please
.”

“Fine, whatever,” Ruthie said, shaking her head, looking through Isaac.

“Really? You won’t tell Mother Flora or my mother?”

“I said fine,” she snapped. “But this isn’t over . . . not by a long shot. Do you hear me? I
will
marry the prophet. I will be one of the chosen.”

She walked past their father’s desk and pushed a stack of papers to the floor, walking to the door and slamming it behind her. Isaac’s pulse raced as he ran to the scattered papers on the floor. Quickly, he pulled them together, forming an organized stack and placing them back on the corner of the desk. He retreated to the closet, closing the door behind him, and collapsing on the floor.

I have to tell Father! Mother Aspen needs to know Ruthie found me.

He dug through his bedding to find his cell phone, but his stomach dropped when he pressed the power button and nothing happened. He’d forgotten to charge it.

No, no, no, no, no.

He pulled his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth, back and forth as tears poured from his eyes and guilt swarmed his brain. It was his fault that Ruthie found him. If he’d just stayed put inside the closet, none of this would have happened.

His father would be disappointed, Mother Aspen would be angry at Ruthie, and everything would be his fault. Isaac sobbed and analyzed his predicament, deciding it was best not to tell anyone, to trust that Ruthie would, indeed, keep his secret. No good could come of him telling his father or Mother Aspen. It would only lead to hurt feelings, conflict, and panic.

She won’t tell
, he told himself.

She won’t tell, she won’t tell, she won’t tell.

But what if she
did
?

If only he hadn’t been walking down that path that night . . . if only the prophet hadn’t seen him. If only he hadn’t followed him into the temple, hoping to be redeemed, to be
forgiven
for whatever sin the prophet thought he had committed . . .

If only . . .

If only . . .

If only . . .

 

Chapter 27

 

 

I woke the next morning to the familiar buzz of my phone. After rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I glanced at the screen.

I was shocked to see several messages from the detective.

What time is it? How long did I sleep?

7:55 a.m.-We’ve got it. Call me.
8:07 a.m.-Seriously, Paul, we need to make a plan!
8:11 a.m.-Aspen says she’s going to wake you up. C’mon, let’s do this.

Knock, knock, knock.

Even though I knew it was way too late for Sarah to still be in bed, and that she’d most likely been awake for more than an hour that morning, I hopped from the bed and checked her bathroom before opening the door to let Aspen inside the room. When I did, I could see the sheer excitement in her normally serious eyes. Quickly, she closed the door behind her.

“I’m sorry,” I began, “I slept in. I didn’t mean to miss his messages.”

“It’s all right, but you should respond so that you two can get over there.”

“You’re not coming?”

She shook her head. “No, my place is here. I think it’s best if just you and Jonathan go, don’t you?”

“I suppose you’re right.” I was disappointed, wanting Aspen with me when we served Clarence with the warrant for his arrest.

Aspen clearly saw the saddened expression on my face. “This way the other wives won’t suspect anything. The last thing we need to do is upset Flora further.”

“I don’t care if she’s upset. She’s a conniving snake.”

Aspen took my hand. “I know, but still . . . it’s best if I lie low. Besides, Jeremiah wants to go to the park.”

“So, while we’re hauling Clarence into jail, you’ll be pushing our son on the swings?”

“Yes.” She nodded. “I’ll have my phone, of course. You must call me as soon as it’s over.”

“I will.” I stole a quick kiss before retrieving my phone from the nightstand.

“Good luck,” Aspen whispered before slipping out of the room.

-Sorry. Slept in, but I can be ready any time.

Only a few seconds passed before my phone buzzed once again.

-Meet me in 20 minutes?
-Where?
-About a block from his house. Red car, can’t miss it.
-All right, I’ll be there.

Anticipation stirred in my belly as I took the fastest shower of my life. When I was dressed and ready to walk out the door, I realized I was humming. I couldn’t remember the last time I hummed. Everything was about to change . . . for the better, for all of us.

Of course the people of our community would be shocked, appalled, and angry when they learned Clarence Black was in police custody. I anticipated many of them would threaten to leave, even after hearing of his crimes against their own children. Some of them would pack bags, refuse to come home, ignore the truth. Some of them would rather live in their own ignorance then move forward with the knowledge of the truth, of the man he really was. All that was unavoidable.

But just the same, I was prepared to call everyone to the temple, to keep them informed, to offer to lead them to a more honest future. I didn’t expect to be called a prophet, to be obeyed at every turn. I didn’t crave the control, the power that consumed my brother. I just wanted to support my people, to calm their fears and aid them in living healthy, spiritual lives.

I would start at home. I would inform my wives of what was in store, of what they could expect when I became the leader of the FLDS. I was confident we could come together as a family, as an example of kindness, love, and reverence to Heavenly Father.

We can do this. We can.

No one had to be corrupted; no one had to be worshipped. We just had to live together cooperatively. I could only hope the majority of our citizens would see the logic, would be relieved they were no longer under Clarence’s harsh thumb.

Without hesitation, I snuck out of the house without visiting the other wives at breakfast. I didn’t want to lie about where I was going. I wanted to see them for the first time with the biggest news of their lifetime. And so, I walked out of the house and shook my head when I saw the gate had, once again, been left open. Luckily, I heard Scout barking from the backyard and knew he was safely inside the confines of our property.

I hopped into my truck and drove across the compound to Clarence’s estate. When I saw the detective’s red car, I parked behind it and waited for him to exit his vehicle. I left my own and met him in the middle of the road.

“You ready for this?” he asked, removing his sunglasses.

“Like you wouldn’t believe.”

“As soon as backup arrives, we’ll go to the door.”

“We need backup?”

“Just in case,” Jonathan said with a nod. “I know you all aren’t big on firearms, but we can never be too careful. People do all sorts of things to avoid being arrested.”

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