Love Her Madly (33 page)

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Authors: Mary-Ann Tirone Smith

BOOK: Love Her Madly
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“Laredo.”

“Laredo. I'm not the only one trying to keep tabs on you, Poppy. Your director is looking for you and losing his mind in the process. You found her, didn't you?”

“Don't be ridiculous.”

“Then what the hell are you up to?”

“I need to talk to you.”

“Talk.”

“I need to see you.”

“Why?”

“I want to compare notes.”

“Poppy, tell me. Where is she?”

“Max, I need a good cop I can trust.”

“Where is she?”

“I need your help.”

“Okay.”

“I'm in the hotel on the plaza. La Posada. Max, I need you to be on your own.”

“Fine. Hour and a half. That means no stops along the way.”

He hung up.

I left the hotel and went into the plaza and sat under a tree on a bench. In daylight the cathedral looked gray and scruffy. Whoever power-washed the hotel needed to do the same for the church. For an hour and a half, I contemplated my life while I ate coconut ice cream and watched Mexican Americans stroll or play dominoes. Me and the bench were at a defining juncture, I knew.

Scraggs found a parking spot just past the hotel. He was alone, and he didn't speak into his radio before he got out of the car.

I called out, “Max.”

He turned and spotted me. I waved.

He wasn't just stiff the way he'd been in Washington. He was limping. When he reached me, I said, “I'm the one who's supposed to be limping. What's your problem?”

“It only looks like a limp. Doc just unwrapped my cracked ribs. If I walk this way it hurts less.”

“You didn't look like a man with cracked ribs when they pulled you out of the car.”

“I was being brave for you.”

I liked this Scraggs, I really did.

I told him, “So sit down here on the bench and I'll go buy you an ice-cream cone.”

He sat. I got the cone and brought it back.

He licked it. Three times. Then his head turned toward me and he said, “Where is she?”

“She's in a restored mission.”

“We've checked every mission in the state.”

“You missed this one. That's because it's a temple. Restored by the man who influenced Vernon when he was a student at a Bible college. He's founded a new religious order. An offshoot of the Shakers.”

“The Shakers?”

“The chair people.”

“I know who they are. This Bible school guy is really the one who got her out?”

“I'd say so.”

“I'm not goin' to ask you how, Poppy. Just where. For Christ's sake, tell me.”

“I'm getting to that part. But I want to do something that I know no one else will go along with. Except maybe you. Will you listen?”

“Fine. But while I'm listenin', I hope she's not runnin' out the back door.”

“I don't think Tiner's letting her out of his sight. Scraggs, what if we just go up to the door of the mission? With a warrant for Rona Leigh's arrest. She didn't cross a border, so Texas has jurisdiction. The people in the mission probably aren't armed. If the FBI finds her first, they'll say there are illegal weapons in the mission and call in the ATF. What makes sense to me is to avoid that.

“So Scraggs, let's just go get her. Me and you. We might have a little negotiating to do with them, but—”

“What do you mean, these people probably aren't armed?”

“I checked with someone who would know.”

“How the hell long…?”

“Max. Just since this morning.”

“Okay, so what's the next step after these people tell us she's not there?”

“She might not be. They might have moved her. And if she's not there and the FBI or the Rangers storm the place and kill a bunch of peaceful farmers or whatever they are, then—”

“Peaceful farmers? Poppy, are you in the middle of a nervous breakdown? C'mon. It's still that letter, isn't it? From the daughter who showed you her father didn't rape anyone.”

“No, Max. That letter drove me to taking action where none was being taken. Rona Leigh is just a small part of that action. She happened to be next in line, that's all.” I picked up a shopping bag next to the bench. “I have something to show you.”

I reached into the bag, took a roll of paper, and spread it out across my lap. Max decided to humor me, waited for me to tell him what I was doing.

“An architect designed the present layout of the mission. The temple. This is the blueprint.”

“I almost don't want to know. But I'll ask anyway. Where'd you get this?”

“From a Web-site server.”

“You didn't need much of a threat, right?”

“Didn't need anything except to identify myself and my job.”

“I don't want to remember what investigations were like before computers.”

“Me neither.”

We looked at the layout. The entire first floor was labeled
WORSHIP
. An addition had been added to the back, a dining hall and kitchen. The loft where a choir was meant to sing hymns three hundred years ago had been expanded into an entire second floor with two dormitory wings on opposite sides. Males right, females left, big communal bathrooms for each group. In between, a tiny apartment for Tiner: sitting room, bedroom, office, and, next to him, a large guest room. Also a pharmacy and two infirmaries, one for the men, one for the women.

A second paper showed the layout of the outdoor grounds. Six outbuildings for animals and equipment, carpentry shop, business office, a garage. There were three gardens, labeled
FEED, FOOD
, and
HERBS
.

Scraggs studied it all.

I said, “Believe it or not, this is in keeping with documents portraying Shaker compounds that go back over two hundred years.”

He said, “So we've got around forty people plus Rona Leigh.”

“And Vernon.”

“We don't know that.”

“I know that. I saw him.”

He swung around to face me, which made him wince. He said, “Then you've been seen, Poppy.”

“I don't think so.”

He looked into my eyes. “Arrogance'll get you killed. And considerin' what you're suggestin', it could get me killed too.”

“I was careful. We'll be careful.”

“Careful. Here's what I think about careful. This bunch of people got a set of tapes worth a big load of money. They know we're closin' in. The guy in charge will bail out. Maybe already did. And that means—”

“See, Max. You're thinking what I'm thinking. We've got to close in while he's still there. We'll make a deal with him. We'll—”

“No. We have to follow the standard operation. Warn 'em to come out and tear-gas 'em if they resist arrest. If they really don't have weapons, that'll bring 'em out.”

“Maybe they'll have masks.”

“Poppy, come with me to Austin. Now. We'll fly up, be there in an hour. Tell the Rangers what you know. They don't want to kill Rona Leigh. They want her alive. They know how important it is. With all the hullabaloo, the governor has no choice now but to reopen the case. He'll do it, I promise you that.”

“Don't bullshit me, Scraggs. No way. She'll be taken right to Gatesville and executed. With you or without you, I'm not going to let that happen.”

“Then I feel it is my duty to protect you from getting yourself killed, thinkin' you're above the law. Let me tell you what you're up against. A boss who thinks maybe it's time to rein you in. And I would agree there. You got the boots, you got the hat, and you even got the right belt, but that doesn't make you some kind of one-man posse. I'm not about to—”

“Scraggs, listen.”

“No, you listen. I've got a lot more to say. The governor's wife told us you quoted the Bible to her when you were in her home, that you must be one of them. The warden at Gatesville claims you taunted him about the expiration dates on the chemicals. You even joked about springing Rona Leigh.”

“He joked, not me. And I taunted the governor's wife, so what.”

“Here's the kicker, Poppy. The night of the escape, a couple of Texas Rangers including myself didn't see where the cement blocks came from that fell on us. We all figured they must have been tossed from the back of the ambulance. Now I surely do believe you when you say there were three people up on the overpass who dropped them, but the general thinkin' is, you couldn't have seen them either. General thinkin' goes on to say you must have known they were going to fall because you
knew
where they were going to fall
from.

I said, “I was the one who came up with the nurse. Sterilizing Rona Leigh's arm.”

“Yeah, you were. Interpreted as throwin' suspicion off you. Real reason I came down here, Poppy, is because I had to find you before anyone else. A warrant for your arrest is bein' put to press right now. The law says if I find you, I have to be the one to arrest you. Law also states I must protect myself, draw my weapon when I make an arrest. I'm sorry, Poppy, I have no choice here.”

He drew his gun. He aimed it at my heart just the way procedures require. He stood up, and when he did, he grimaced. The broken ribs.

My eyes went from his to the barrel of the gun. The gun wavered just a little bit; then he held it steady. “Just come back with me and tell us what you know. Say you'll do that voluntarily. I'll believe you. We're friends, right? What we've been through … hell, Poppy, if you don't, your life will be over. A fine and dedicated life that—”

I put my hands together and swung a two-fisted backhand into his ribs. He doubled over and the gun flew. It hit the sidewalk and went off. I was already in a sprint. I got in my truck and was out of there.

I didn't have time to grab the architect's plans.

14

The Rangers wouldn't know where Rona Leigh was for as long as it would take them to find the architect. Hopefully, he was off designing a mosque in Khartoum. Of course, they could get lucky just canvassing. Then it would only take until some local historian said, “Hey, I know that place. It's the temple some cult dug out of a lake.” Perhaps they wouldn't take such a person too seriously and give me more time.

I drove to San Yglesia. I wasn't stopped, and the town was as drowsy as ever.

I said hello to the hotel clerk, went up to my room, and left everything there. I took my bag out to the car with nothing in it but my new jumpsuit. If I needed a change, I wasn't going to wear a Shaker dress and bonnet. I came back down and told the clerk I was going to the mission and paid for an extra week's stay.

I said to the clerk, “Wish me luck.”

She just shook her head.

I drove up Main Street to the gate in the wall, but I didn't need to get out and knock. The big wood doors opened for me. Beyond was a scene about as dazzling as the one Dorothy encountered when she looked upon Oz. Behind me, brown dust and dilapidation. Inside the gate, everything was green and ordered, each section of garden cordoned off by rows of flowers. The barns and the outbuildings were whitewashed. It looked like half the New Believers were working outside.

The guard Shaker came up to me. I said to him, “I'd like to see Elder Tiner.”

He said, “I'm sorry, Sister. If you're interested in joining us, I have to tell you that the Elder is not presently welcoming new converts.”

He seemed genuinely sad about that.

“I'd really only like to speak with him. I'd like to speak to Vernon Lacker too.”

He went from genuinely sad to genuinely appalled. Like a child staring at a ghost, he said, “Who are you?”

“I'm Agent Penelope Rice, FBI. Vernon knows me.”

He tried to keep control of himself. To the air, he said, “She's alone.” To me, “Please drive through.” As soon as I did, he pressed a remote control and the gate closed behind me. I stopped and waited. Now when he approached the pickup he had a weapon pointed at me. Jesse the feed store man was wrong. The weapon wasn't a hoe, it was a small handgun.

He said, “I would ask you to step out of your vehicle with your hands in the air.”

While I climbed out, he was still pressing his remote. Six men appeared from the mission, guns drawn, running toward us. From the look on the guard's face they couldn't run fast enough. This was something he didn't do very often.

One of the men said, “Give me your weapon.”

I did.

Then they took me inside, where my eyes adjusted to the dim light. It was ten degrees cooler. The hall of worship was empty, and even though the design was classic Catholic church there were no Catholic accoutrements. Only whitewash.

We went up to the second floor. They had me sit down in a small reception room furnished with the famous chairs, a no-nonsense table, and one row of pegs across a wall. I didn't have a coat to hang. The men sat too, each one pointing his gun at me.

A man came through the door, dressed exactly like the others. There was no question, though, that he was the leader, the one in charge, their Elder. Raymond Tiner had terrific stage presence, an aura of authority. It was the way he seemed to float into the room. I stood up. The men rose, the guns rose. I put out my hand. I said, “I'm glad to meet you Elder Raymond. I'm Penelope Rice.”

He waved at the men and the guns went down. A second wave, and all but one of them left.

He said, “You are blessed in our eyes, Agent Rice. You did what you could to save the Daughter of God. We had hoped you would manage it, but we have never faulted you for what, in the end, you could not do. The task was left to us.”

“And how did you do it?”

He smiled. “You have discovered us. You have the instinct and ingenuity your profession requires. We are our Sister's liberators. But the Daughter of God is alive today through the intercession of Jesus Christ. A miracle. He alone is responsible.”

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