Outside Eden (15 page)

‘Pastor’ll be here soon. Come have a rocking chair. Sit with me while you wait.’ He took her elbow.

‘Thanks, but I can’t. I just came by to see if you had any milk.’

It was the first thing that came to mind.

‘Milk?’ He let go of her arm.

‘We’re out. My daughter’s having trouble sleeping—’

‘Your daughter?’

‘She’s fourteen and a half months old.’ Why was she telling him that?

‘Oh, a baby? Well, sorry. We’ve got coffee and some sodas. No milk.’

‘Of course. Well. Thanks anyway.’ Harper apologized for disturbing him, wished him a good night and hurried away before he could say anything else.

Back in her bungalow, Harper let herself breathe. The television was on; Hagit sound asleep. But Harper couldn’t think of sleep. She paced. Where was Travis’s council meeting being held? What were they doing there? She chewed her lip, heard Hank urging her to leave the dig and come back to Jerusalem. Insisting that it wasn’t her job to protect everyone, just her baby and herself.

She looked in on Chloe. The baby sprawled belly up, arms open wide, trusting the universe. Her tummy rising and falling with each breath. Harper thought she could stand there all night, watching her golden baby.

Instead, she lightly touched Chloe’s cheek, then switched gears, grabbed her phone and flashlight, looked around for a weapon. Found a stuffed monkey. A bottle of baby shampoo. A picture book. Finally, she tucked a kitchen knife into her pocket and headed back out into the darkness, walking away from Travis’s place, keeping out of sight of Harold Wade.

She made a loop around the bungalows, taking the path to the parking area behind them, then crossing back to the main path. She continued past the darkened nursery, the closed restaurant, toward the main office building.

Harper stopped in the shadows near the entrance. The lights were on, but the building was open round the clock, so lights didn’t mean much. The only way to find out if they were there was to go inside.

Schmuel was at the front desk. He looked up.

‘Are you online?’ Not that it mattered; she’d already found out about Travis.

‘No, just doing scheduling. But I can try . . .’

‘No, don’t bother.’ She smiled. ‘I just wondered.’

Harper wandered across the open lobby, past the soda machines, travel brochures, big-screen television, small offices and storage rooms, all the way to the far wall lined with windows. She stood for a moment, disappointed. No sign of Travis. Sighing, she turned to go. Stopped at a sitting area near the television. Off to her left, behind a closed door, someone was talking.

Harper glanced back at Schmuel. His attention was on his work. She stepped closer to the door. Closer. Listening.

‘. . . in just two days.’ It was a man’s voice. Didn’t sound like Travis.

‘You act like this is news to you. You’ve known about this for months.’ This one sounded more like Travis. Commanding. Resonant.

‘But it isn’t as simple as you make it sound . . .’

‘Simple? I never said it would be simple. Nor did the Lord. Is proof of our faith supposed to be—?’

‘They didn’t mean it like that, Pastor.’ Harper thought she recognized Peter Watts’ voice. ‘They meant there were unforeseen obstacles.’

‘Obstacles?’

‘Yes.’

Harper looked back at the desk, edged closer to the door.

‘Okay, explain that to the Lord. ‘Sorry, Lord. You offered me eternal life and a chance to bask in Your glory. But no thanks. I’ll have to pass; there were obstacles.’’

‘Amen,’ someone said.

‘Pastor,’ Peter began.

‘No! No more excuses.’ Travis’s voice rumbled like distant thunder.

‘Sorry, Ramsey. I have to agree with Peter.’ Another voice. A third man. ‘The Lord is all-powerful.’

‘Your point?’

Harper wished she could see through the door.

‘Well, that is my point. He’s all-powerful. He can do whatever He wants. He created the universe. He can destroy it whenever He wants, with or without our offerings. What we do doesn’t matter. Why are we so brazen as to think He requires help from us?’

Silence followed. Harper waited for Ramsey Travis’s reaction to this challenge. Travis would expect complete allegiance from his followers. But someone was openly challenging – even contradicting him. She stood beside the door and pressed her body against the wall, expecting all hell to break out on the other side.

When he finally spoke, though, Travis didn’t sound enraged. He sounded sad. ‘This is a difficult moment for me, council members. As you know, Brother Lowell has been a long-time trusted advisor to me and our church. He’s been as my right hand. But now, Brother Lowell has lost his way. He is questioning the Lord’s own written words, rejecting the Lord Himself. I’m disheartened, Brother Lowell. Your loss of faith saddens me.’

A few people said, ‘Amen,’ as Lowell began to defend himself. ‘I never rejected the Lord—’

‘Lowell,’ another voice interrupted. A woman. ‘Pastor Travis has read God’s code. It’s not up to us to question what God wrote or try to figure out the logic of it. We aren’t equipped to understand God—’

‘Amen!’

‘All we can do is obey Him.’

‘Amen.’

‘It grieves me, Lowell.’ Travis took command. ‘But I see no alternative. As of this moment, you are stripped of your position as council prelate.’

‘Ramsey, you’re taking my comments way too seriously—’

‘As all of you know, this is a critical time for our church. We have no time for disbelievers.’

‘Fine. You don’t have to demote me. I quit the position – and the council. But never accuse me of doubting the Lord. All I said was that we were foolish if we believe that the Lord needs anything from us. Our offerings aren’t necessary—’

‘Our offerings aren’t necessary?’ Travis roared. ‘Our offerings, Brother Lowell, prove our allegiance and our pure unquestioning absolute obedience to the Lord. They are a symbol of our faith. How can you lose sight of that now, on the eve of our fulfillment?’

Lots of ‘Amens’.

‘And now, as you are no longer a member of the council, I must ask you—’

‘Don’t bother,’ Lowell barked. ‘I’m leaving.’

Oh dear. Harper scooted away from the door, made it to the soda machine and pretended to be buying a drink just in time for the door to swing open. Lowell strode past her, his eyes filled with tears.

Harper waited until Lowell was out of the building before she strolled back and leaned against the wall beside the door. Listening.

There was clapping. And then someone said, ‘Thank you, Pastor Travis. I won’t let you down.’

‘Frank, Frank, Frank, it isn’t about letting
me
down. This is all about the Lord. It’s about not letting
Him
down.’

Several people said, ‘Amen.’

‘Thank you all for putting your trust in me. I’m honored to be the new prelate. Especially now, when our task is so urgent. We’re almost there: our teams need to finish preparing. And we need the third lamb to complete the triad. That shouldn’t be difficult, by the way. They’re all around, and we just need one.’

Just one what?

Somebody called out, ‘That’s for sure.’ Harper heard laughter.

‘So my first obligation as prelate is to assure that we move ahead swiftly. Let’s finish our work here.’

Voices yelled, ‘Amen!’ A round of applause and hoots.

‘Quiet down,’ Travis said. While the others cheered, he sounded grave. ‘I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we have more business.’ He paused. ‘Before we proceed, I must share my concerns about the effectiveness of the Offerings Committee.’

The Offerings Committee? Really?

‘Let’s review. As Frank said, three lambs were to be sacrificed.’ Travis’s voice reverberated. ‘Three. In specified locations near the Temple, before the ninth of Av. Correct?’

Someone said, ‘Correct.’

‘So what happened? What was it about those instructions that confused you?’

‘We weren’t confused,’ a new voice answered. ‘But the shuk was crowded and it was hard to get around. We got lost.’

Wait. The shuk? In Jerusalem?

‘And now we’re far away. It takes half the night just to get there—’

‘Are you honestly saying that you value a night’s sleep more than you value the Lord?’

‘Amen,’ someone said.

Travis’s voice was scalding. ‘He has required three small sacrifices of us. His code has spelled out what to do, where and when to do it. And it says what we will receive in return.’ His pitch was rising.

‘Yes. We’ve tried to do what He asks. We tried to make the third—’

‘Tried? You
tried
?’ Travis cried out. He lowered his voice, kept talking.

Harper heard a low rumble of words, couldn’t make them out until Travis raised his voice again, blasting like a thunderclap.

‘Three! Not two. Not
almost
sacrificed. Not
tried
to sacrifice. Did Abraham say it would be too hard to sacrifice his own son, Isaac? Did Noah say it would be too hard to build the ark? Did Jesus say, sorry, it would be too hard to die on the cross? Their tasks were far more difficult than yours, but they did what He asked because of their faith in Him. And now, the Lord has asked us simply to give him three lambs. If we do this, and only if we do this, His promise will begin.’

More shouts of ‘Amen’ all around.

‘Time is short and failure is not an option. I’m making another personnel change. I was hasty in giving the honor of making the offerings. Obviously, the agent I entrusted wasn’t qualified—’

A high-pitched gasp. ‘Ramsey? What are you saying?’

‘No more interruptions.’ His voice was a knife. ‘The agent failed to execute the Lord’s instructions. I am therefore reassigning the task to another council member: Peter Watts.’

‘To Peter?’ The question was drowned out by clapping and congratulatory comments.

‘Peter, do you accept this task?’

‘Well,’ Peter stammered. ‘Pastor, honestly? It seems kind of . . . Well, never mind. I do. Of course I accept.’ He sounded choked up.

‘We can rely on you?’

‘Yes. Completely.’

‘We can stake our souls on your word?’

A slight pause. ‘You can. Yes.’

‘We have two days, Peter. Our last chance. You realize that?’

‘I do.’

‘God’s will be done.’ Travis took a breath. ‘Let us remember Peter three, verses one to eighteen: “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief. The heavens will disappear with a roar, the elements will be destroyed by fire, and the earth and everything in it will be laid bare.”’

Voices chimed, ‘Amen.’

Maybe Travis lowered his voice again. Maybe the room was silent. But Harper couldn’t hear anything. She stood there, replaying what she’d just heard, trying to make sense of it.

A promise would be fulfilled only after three lambs were sacrificed. What promise? That the skies would disappear and the earth be laid bare? That promise? The end-of-the-world promise? Harper rubbed her eyes, her mind replaying what Travis had said earlier, that three lambs were to be sacrificed near the Temple; that two lambs had already been offered there.

In the shuk.

Harper saw the body of a slaughtered young man, a crescent carved into his forehead. She recalled the other murder victim: the American tourist. Inspector Alon had said that he’d been marked with a cross. Two murders in the shuk, both with slashed throats, both marked with religious symbols. Both committed in the few days she’d been in Jerusalem – when the church group had also been there. A ripple of alarm ran along Harper’s arms, down her back.

‘Lambs’ didn’t really mean
lambs
. It meant living sacrifices. Slaughtered men.

Harper ran a hand through her hair, shook her head. No. Impossible. The church group had extreme beliefs and their pastor was a manipulative adulterer. But adultery and religious fervor were a long way from murder.

Then again, Travis might have killed his own father. Might be unfazed by spilling blood.

Behind the door, chairs scraped the floor. The meeting must be finishing up. Voices joined together, reciting, ‘Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Thy name . . .’

Harper scurried away, but not before the door opened and Peter walked out with another man.

Peter looked at her, startled.

Smile, Harper told herself. She forced her lips to curl. ‘Hey, Peter.’ She tried to sound breezy, as if she’d heard nothing. As if, even at this moment, she didn’t hear voices from the next room declaring, ‘On earth as it is in heaven.’

Peter’s companion eyed her.

‘I thought there might be a movie playing tonight . . .’

‘Don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?’ Peter nodded toward Schmuel.

‘Good idea.’ She started toward the desk. But not before Peter checked his watch.

‘A little late for a movie, isn’t it?’

It was, yes. More than a little. Harper kept walking. ‘Is it?’

Stupid response. Peter’s friend was openly staring.

Harper stopped. ‘So if not a movie, what brought you guys here tonight?’ Good. She’d turned it around, acted ignorant.

‘Church meeting,’ Peter said. ‘Meet our new prelate, Frank.’

Harper managed a smile, said it was nice to meet him, returned his direct stare, wished them a good night. And walked directly to the exit.

As the door closed behind her, she looked back through the window. A red-haired woman hurried to exit the meeting room, followed by Travis. Others were straggling out. Frank and Peter stood with their heads together, looking somber, deep in conversation.

The killer lingered in the meeting room, unable to breathe. The air wouldn’t come in, got stuck halfway down.

It wasn’t fair, wasn’t right. The way Travis had spoken to them, his ragged, furious tone. The fire in his eyes, the icy blame he cast in front of the others. The killer’s jaw clenched at the injustice, stomach wrenching at the shame.

And Travis’s voice echoed, over and over: ‘I’m assigning it to another council member: Peter Watts.’

Insult of insults. Travis had done it purposely, had planned it. Had kept it secret as a punishing humiliation.

And he’d refused to listen. Had shown no allegiance, no loyalty. No connection to those who’d already devoted themselves to him and the codes, had already committed murder for him. The killer remembered the first lamb, the shock of blood spurting out, spattering the plastic coat, sounding like rain. The man’s eyes wide with surprise, his mouth open and silent. The soul that floated from his body as a gift to the Lord. The assistant, carving the cross into the flesh because the killer hadn’t been able to move, had been overcome, sobbing. Trembling with awe.