Satan’s Lambs (27 page)

“Mendez, you have to keep this quiet, you can't have a big police to-do.”

“Lena, I can't just show up one night. I have to coordinate with the locals, with Louisville. We've got, what, a little over a week? This is a bureaucratic nightmare. Everybody has budget constraints, they have to get approvals. Police departments just don't move this fast. I've called in favors and—”

“Joel.” Lena gritted her teeth. “If you tell the locals what you're up to, word will get to the people involved. You don't even know if law enforcement people are in on it. This is a small town.”

Mendez nodded. “It's set up as a drug bust. I've given out the wrong location. We'll change it at the last minute. In the cars, on the way.”

“Oh.”

“And they'll be happy to go along. Drug busts are good for careers right now. And they've got plenty of time to warn their dealer pals, if they're dirty. So they're protected, and can look good at the same time.”

Lena looked at him. “This isn't going to win you any friends, is it?”

“No.”

“Can I come with you?”

“Yes.”

“I thought you'd give me trouble.”

“I won't ace you out. If ‘Sixty Minutes' can go out with the DEA, you can come with me. You'll have to sign a release. And if you get hurt and sue the department, you'll hurt my career.”

“Mendez, this is going to sound really stupid, but I want you to have an open mind and listen to me.”

He waited.

“That list of names that Melody gave me. See, from what I understand about these worshipers, this get-together is like a social thing. A bizarre social thing, but it has that importance. Melody called them family picnics. And it's like the Kentucky Derby or something. You get a new dress, you get your nails done, you go to your hairdresser. So I had these names checked. To see who was getting their hair done and when, to see if I could get a cluster of dates. This was before Anita heard from the informant. I thought maybe I could tell from the appointments when the night would be.”

Mendez nodded, face unreadable.

“And I did. I got seven appointments made, and one date stands out. It's not the thirtieth, Joel. It's the twenty-fourth. Day after tomorrow.”

Lena handed him the sheet of papers with the dates and notes Benita had made. He took the paper and pulled his desk calendar forward. Lena picked the cuticle on her left thumb.

Mendez looked up. He scratched his cheek.

“What do you think?”

“Lena, the informant infiltrated the group. He's been in actual contact with the people involved. The people making the decisions. And April thirtieth is Walpurgisnacht. Which fits. What you have is the twenty-fourth, a Wednesday, middle of the week. And you have no other evidence. From what I know, Thursday can be a major night for these happenings. But Wednesday has no special significance.”

“Thursday?”

He studied the calendar. “The full moon is on the … twenty-eighth. Full quarter, the twenty-first. There's no reason for it to be Wednesday.”

Lena held the book out. “I've been looking into satanic calendars. St. Mark's Eve is on April twenty-fourth.”

Mendez took the book. “Judgment call, Lena. I see your point, but I think you're wrong. I think we have to go with the informant on this. I do.”

Lena nodded. She did not tell him that Rick had received an invitation from Mr. Enoch. An invitation for the thirtieth of April. She didn't want him to know she was still using the boards.

“You okay?” Mendez asked.

“Yes.”

“Don't be angry with me, Lena.”

“I'm not.”

45

Lena held the mouth of the canteen under the kitchen faucet. The telephone rang. She braced herself, expecting Hayes.

“Lena, it's Valerie.”

“What's up?”

“Have you seen Eloise?”

“Isn't she there?”

“No. She was cleaning up breakfast dishes, and she had a coffee cake in the oven, and she suddenly just walks out. Just takes off. One of the women told me she heard her crying last night. Said she was calling out in her sleep. I'm worried she—”

“Valerie, there goes the doorbell. Hold on, maybe it's her.”

Lena opened the front door. Eloise Valetta stood on the front step, her hair mussed, her one good eye red and bleary.

“Can I come in?”

“You okay?”

“Just tired. Long walk from the bus stop.”

“Go sit down in the living room. I'll be right there.” Lena headed for the kitchen and picked up the phone. “Valerie, she's here.”

“Thank God.”

“I better go talk to her. I'll call you later.”

Eloise Valetta was standing at the sliding glass door. She looked at the lone rocking chair. “Your stuff get repossessed?”

Lena shook her head. “Go ahead and take the chair. Can I get you something? Something to drink?”

Eloise shook her head. She moved slowly, her steps hesitant, her back curved as if it hurt. She settled in the rocking chair, and the wood creaked gently. Lena sat on the floor, back to the wall. It was an effort not to look at her watch.

“Lena, this is going to sound nuts. You going to think I'm crazy. But I dreamed about Charlie last night.”

Lena nodded.

“I dream about him a lot. Good dreams, where I don't want to wake up. Where he's home, and we're baking. Or we're going to McDonald's, and we got enough to buy whatever we want. But last night. Last night I had dreams that were bad. Dark places, scary places, like mine shafts or something. And he was trapped and he couldn't get out. And it was like I was him. Like I could hardly breathe, and I needed somebody to come and get me free.” Eloise burst into heaving dry sobs. “I know it sounds crazy, but something's happening, something bad, and we just got to find him
now
.”

Lena felt cold at the base of her spine. She'd been on her way to LaRue Lake anyway, thinking, in the back of her mind, she might well be wrong.

She wasn't wrong.

“Get in the car,” Lena said.

“Now?”

“Let's go find him.”

Eloise was rising out of the chair. “You know where he is?”

“Don't talk about it,” Lena said. “Let's just do it. Go in the kitchen and get the blankets. They're on the table. And there's a canteen on the cabinet. Make sure it's full and the cap's on tight. Then put the stuff in the back of the car. I'm going upstairs to get a couple more things. Like get you a sweater. And go to the bathroom, Eloise. We got a long drive ahead.”

Eloise nodded and straightened. Lena ran back upstairs, ransacking her closet for sweaters, jackets, her baseball bat. She heard the water running in the kitchen. Good. Eloise was moving. Lena hunted through the closet for the flashlight, then through the dresser drawers for extra batteries.

The front door opened and closed. Lena hesitated by the telephone. Mendez had made his decision; she'd made hers. Had he thought she would sit still on the twenty-fourth?

Mr. Enoch, she thought. What a coup it would be for you to have your nasty get-together under all our noses, one week ahead of schedule. She took a breath. She was right. The evidence was indisputable. Mama's instinct, and hairdresser's appointments. Real life, not police scams, lies, and double crosses. Not relying on the word of people who were relying on the word of somebody else.

Lena headed for the hallway, purse slung over her shoulder, arms full of jackets, sweaters, flashlights.

She checked her watch.

Plenty of time. Don't go crazy.

Her arms were too full to pull the front door closed behind her. She looked in the driveway. Eloise Valetta was sitting in the front seat of the car.

Lena squinted. The sun was bright and gentle, the sky clear, the temperature somewhere around seventy-five. The kind of day that made you want to throw off your old life, and start a new one up fresh.

Lena opened the car door and piled everything in the back seat. “Eloise? I got to lock up. Be right back.”

Lena locked the front door, noted that the porch light was on. She got back in the car, started the engine, backed the car from the drive.

“You hungry?” Lena asked.

Eloise shook her head.

“Me neither. But I'm going to stop at White Castle, anyhow. Get something to have on the way.”

Eloise nodded, seeming uninterested. She snapped her seat belt in place, and plucked the fur of a stuffed blue rabbit that sat in her lap.

Lena saw the bunny from the corner of her eye, did a double take, and looked again.

“What?” Eloise said.

“That rabbit. It's … it just looks like one my nephew had. Is it Charlie's?”

“No.” Eloise stroked a fuzzy blue ear. “I found it folded up with them blankets. The ones on the table you told me to bring. I thought maybe you packed it on purpose.”

“No. But you hold on to it, okay? Hold on to it, and save it for Charlie.”

46

She had gotten turned around somehow, up at Old Indian Road. It was later than she liked when she drove the Cutlass across the gravel access road to Ted Moberly's fairy-tale house in the woods. Lena checked her watch. Two good hours of daylight left.

“This is Ted Moberly's place,” Lena said to Eloise. “I want you to stay in the car, just till I talk to him.”

“He doesn't know we're coming?”

Lena saw the twitch of a curtain. “He does now.”

The front door opened and a little boy came out, followed by a teenage girl who kept a hand on the boy's shoulder. Sally pushed past them and bounded toward Lena, butting her head against Lena's thigh.

“Hey, Sally. Hey, girl.”

The children watched her.

“I'm Lena Padget.” She smiled. The little boy smiled back, but the girl watched her warily. “I'm looking for Ted Moberly?”

“Lena?”

Moberly came around the side of the house. He was buttoning a cotton shirt across his bare, sweat-glistening chest. He wore blue jeans and work boots, and a bandanna tied around his forehead. He looked up at the girl on the porch.

“It's okay, hon. Lena, meet the kids. That's Shelly, my daughter. And this little fella”—the little boy leaned against Shelly—“is Shelly's little brother, Neil Junior. Y'all say hi to Lena Padget.”

“Hi,” Neil said.

“Hello,” Shelly said softly.

Ted looked at Eloise in the front seat of the car. She stared at him blankly.

“Eloise Valetta,” Lena said. “Come on out, Eloise.”

Eloise opened the car door and stood up. She held her hand up to hide the patch over her eye, and looked wistfully up at Neil.

The children tried not to stare.

“How are you?” Ted said.

Eloise nodded. “Fine,” she whispered.

Lena took Ted's arm and steered him away from the porch. “We've got to talk.”

“Did you say Eloise
Valetta?
” Ted frowned at her. “Is that the little boy's mother?”

“Yeah.”

“What'd you bring her here for?”

“Ted, has Anita told you anything about the plans for the thirtieth?”

“Sure, she called me. I'll be there.”

“So you know what's up?”

“Big devil shindig. Looks like your group. I'll be happy to have a hand in busting this one up.”

“It's going to be tonight, Ted, not next week.”

“Tonight?” They moved to the side of the house. It was shady and cool. Moberly stood near a forsythia that was heavy with butter yellow blossoms.

Lena nodded.

“Tonight? But it's Wednesday. Who meets in the middle of the week on Wednesday? Well, Baptists do. This is Baptist night, not devil night.”

“Ted, everybody on the list, the list of people I got from Melody Hayes, the list she
died
over—they all, or some of them, anyway—they got their hair done last weekend. Or at least in the last couple of days.”

Moberly looked at her.

“Don't you see?”

“Nope.”

Lena sighed. “I know I'm not explaining this very well. But it's like their big social event. And they all want to get their hair done first.”

“Maybe they're just getting it done for church.”

“What?”

“I told you—Baptists meet on Wednesday night. Lot of Baptists around here.”

“That's
every
Wednesday. This is special.”

“Lena, Anita got her information from an informant. Nothing going on tonight.”

“Yes, there is, Ted. I know it.”

“I cannot believe this. Did you bring his mother up here on that alone?”

“Never mind her. Please come with me. I need you and Sally. It's supposed to take place in the south fork of the lake, near Croom's Landing. I don't know how to get there.”

“Where'd you find that out?”

“The informant.”

“I thought you didn't believe him.”

“I think the information's okay, just the date is wrong.”

“Lena, have you been getting much sleep lately?”

“Ted. Look, did Mendez ever give you a list of license numbers to look out for?”

“No.”

“Figures. Okay, I've got one. A list of license plates from the Knoxville clinic—that's Charlie's PLS, Moberly. A list of plates from people who showed at Archie Valetta's funeral. And a list of plates of locals that Melody Hayes said were involved with the cult.” Lena dug the toe of her shoe in the dirt. “Make me a deal. You and me go looking at parked cars. If we find a match, you go looking with me tonight. If we don't, I go away and leave you alone.”

“Lena, I'm supposed to spend tonight with my kids.” He frowned and thought it over. “If we go looking, but don't find anything by dark, I want you to go home. Promise me?”

“Promise. Thanks, Ted.”

“Don't mention it. Might make me mad.” He started back around the side of the house. “Come on kids, pile in the Jeep. We're going for a ride.”