When Shadows Fall (18 page)

Chapter
37

Georgetown

THE HOUSE WAS
dark when Xander pulled the Jeep to the curb. Sam waited on the front step while he took Thor for a quick potty break. They joined her quickly, and as she went to unlock the door, Thor suddenly started growling.

Sam could feel Thor’s sides quivering, the hair standing on end on his neck. “What is it, boy? What do you hear?”

Thor took two steps toward the front door, completely on alert.

“Pass auf!”
Xander said, a term she’d heard him use before. It meant heads-up. All of Xander’s commands for Thor were in German, ensuring that a stranger couldn’t confuse him with his own orders.

Thor quivered, sniffed the air and barked once. Something was wrong with the house.

Xander pulled Sam back, reached for the doorknob, turned it slowly. It was unlocked. They never left the door unlocked.

Xander’s entire demeanor changed. He went operational in a second, so quickly Sam didn’t even see him reach for the Glock 17 he had stashed in his ankle holster.

“Stay here,” he whispered to her, then spoke to the dog. “Thor.
Voran! Such!
”

She knew the commands—take the lead, search.

He pushed open the front door. Thor burst inside. Xander followed with the gun leveled. They disappeared into the dark and Sam paused, but there was no way she was going to stand on the stoop alone. She stepped just inside the door, heard Thor going wild in the living room, barking his meanest, deepest warnings. A decidedly female shriek rang out.

Xander gave another command that Sam didn’t hear, but the dog stopped barking immediately. At least he hadn’t set Thor to attack.

Sam rushed into the living room to see a young woman cowering in the corner of the couch. Xander had turned on the small lamp on the secretary against the western wall and it cast a gentle glow over the girl’s features. She was wearing a red T-shirt and cargo pants, and had both her hands up as if she’d been caught robbing a bank. Thor had her covered, Xander’s gun was pointed at her chest and she was white as a sheet.

“Who the hell are you?” Sam said.

The girl turned a hopeful face in her direction. “Please, ma’am, don’t let them hurt me. My name is Kaylie Rousch.”

Chapter
38

HOW DO I
explain myself to this woman? She is so much more beautiful in person than the photos I’ve seen. They didn’t capture the light in her clear brown eyes, the color of the whiskey Doug would drink occasionally, if he was in a very good mood, or a very bad one. They didn’t show the kindness of her face. Even furious with me, she seems gentle, breakable.

Her man isn’t. He looks like he wants to tell the dog to rip out my throat, and if the dog disobeys he’ll reach over and do it himself without a second thought. He looks dangerous. I don’t like him. He is one of them, another Y chromosome, only able to hurt and break, yell and scream. His fists are like rocks, his eyes nearly black, full of rage. What is she doing with him? Doesn’t she realize he is a monster?

The woman says, “Xander, put the gun away,” and he listens. The dog is still unhappy with me, but after a guttural command, he backs away, too.

The man she called Xander says, “I’m going to search you. Stand up.”

I can’t let that happen.

I shrink into the corner of the sofa, and the words blurt out in a panic. “No. No way. You can’t touch me. Please, ma’am, don’t let him hurt me. Don’t let him touch me.” He takes a step closer and I swear my heart is going to burst from my chest. I can’t help myself; a small moan comes from my mouth, from somewhere deep and primal.

I am amazed to see his face soften. He no longer looks like a devil beast, only a man. When he speaks to me this time his voice is gentle, cajoling, eminently reasonable, as if he’s talking to a spooked horse.

“Listen to me. People thought you were dead for sixteen years, and your DNA was suddenly found at a murder scene. Several people related to this case are actually dead. And now you’ve broken into our house. With your permission, Dr. Owens would like to make sure you mean her no harm. Will that be okay?”

A woman’s touch doesn’t frighten me. Not anymore. I spread my hands wide so they can see I don’t carry any weapons and nod.

“Yes. I can live with that. But I am not here to hurt you. Either of you. I need your protection.”

At a nod from her man, Samantha crosses the room, asks me to stand. She runs her hands gently down my back to the small space where my too-small T-shirt is tucked into my cargo pants, then down my legs and across my torso. She stops there because it’s clear I can’t hide a weapon inside these too-tight clothes and she wishes to spare me the humiliation of touching the inside of my thighs.

Of course, that’s where I have taped the knife. I honestly don’t intend to use it on her. So long as she doesn’t give me a reason to.

“She’s clean,” she says.

No, I’m not. I will never be clean again. But maybe, with her help, I can find a way to become whole.

When she’s finished, I bow my head slightly and say thank-you. My voice sounds very small and childish. I haven’t heard that tone from myself for a very long time. I thought I was a grown-up. I thought things were going to be okay.

And then Doug was dead and gone, and the cocoon of safety I’d wrapped myself in split wide apart and dumped me wriggling into the mud, caught between chrysalis and butterfly. The world we’d created over the years disappeared, and the gaping maw of reality rushed in, grabbed me by the throat and ripped my heart out.

I can’t help myself. I start to cry. It begins gently, just a tear brimming in the corner of my eye, and the woman reaches over and touches me gently on the cheek, and the floodgates open. Before I can stop myself I am sobbing in her arms like a child.

She doesn’t shy away, but wraps me in her love and drags me to a seated position on the sofa and holds me while I cry my heart out.

This is perfect. This is what I’ve always wanted. This simple contact, this loving embrace. I’ve never felt it before, not like this. It’s almost as if an angel lit on this woman’s shoulder and brought my real mother with her. I can feel her arms around me. She smells of vanilla and tea and the sweetness of roses, not the vapid emptiness of vodka and cigarettes and hate.

It makes me cry harder. It’s not fair, damn it. What happened to me, what happened to Doug, what’s going to happen now—none of it is fair.

But life’s not fair. Life’s a kick in the ass, and you’re damn lucky if you make it to the bent and gray stage. There is evil in the world, evil that searches for the innocent to alter them. That is its only purpose, to convert good to evil. And it sends its minions to do its dirty work, and people like Curtis and Adrian heed the call willingly.

Why does it happen? Free will? An evil God overpowering a benevolent one? I don’t know.

I don’t know.

Samantha hands me a tissue and presses something soft into my hands. I wipe my eyes and look down to see an old stuffed lion, once the prize of my existence, my most favorite toy. My father gave it to me for my birthday the same year I disappeared. Before that I wouldn’t go anywhere without it.

“Where did you find this?” I ask her.

“We just came from a visit with your parents. In case you’d gone to see them.” Her face clouded. She must have met Maureen. “We found this in your old camp. Did you stay there last night?”

“Yes. But I didn’t see Simba. I used to love this thing.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. I’m reminded of who I was before, who I might have been. It’s disconcerting. If I’m not careful, it’s going to deviate me from my path.

I’d debated over breaking into my old house last night, but figured I was safer in the camp. I hadn’t realized the police were this close on my trail.

I must be more careful.

Chapter
39

SAM HELD THE
girl and let her cry herself out. To his credit, Xander simply shrugged and went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. He emerged five minutes later with a teapot, three thick mugs and a bottle of Bunnahabhain.

Kaylie’s sobs were slowing into hiccups and breathy gasps. She loosened her hold and collapsed back into the sofa, exhausted.

Xander poured the girl a cup of tea, and held up the bottle of Scotch enticingly. She took a deep breath, wiped her nose with her fingers and nodded. He poured a healthy slug and handed her the mug, then repeated the process for Sam and himself. They all took a polite sip, then Sam cleared her throat. This girl was clearly tough, but also as fragile as a soap bubble. Sam was worried that if she said or did the wrong thing, the girl would simply up and disappear right in front of their eyes. She was careful to keep her voice gentle and soft.

“Kaylie, why did you break into my house?”

She didn’t hesitate. “To be safe. I couldn’t wait outside on the steps in case he came for me. He found me in the woods, but I managed to get away. I jumped off a cliff. He didn’t see that coming.”

Sam looked closer. The girl had a bruise across her jaw. She noticed Sam looking and her hands went to the spot, covering it in shame.

“He did that to you?”

She nodded.

“Who’s
he?
The man who killed Doug Matcliff?”

“Yes. He is a bad man.”

She sounded like a child when she said it, though it was as matter-of-fact as saying the sky was blue and the sun yellow.

“Who is he? Who killed Doug? Who’s chasing you? And where have you been all these years? With Doug?” Sam stopped. “Sorry. Sorry. You tell us what you can, at your own pace. As you can see, we have a lot of unanswered questions.”

“So you promise I won’t get into trouble if I tell you the truth?”

“Not with us. No.”

Her face clouded. “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Until you tell us what happened, sweetie, we don’t know what to do to help you. Who is the bad man?”

“He is the angel of death.” Her eyes grew far away, revisiting a remembered loss, and Sam exchanged a look with Xander, who sighed quietly and took a deep sip of his tea. They were in for a long night.

“The angel of death. Does he have a name?” Sam asked.

Kaylie shuddered. “Adrian. He is her Sacrificiant. He is the one who kidnapped me. And did awful, unspeakable things to me. All because she told him to. But I think he liked it.”

“Okay. Good. His name is Adrian. And
she
would be?”

Kaylie took a deep breath and seemed to snap back into reality. Her eyes focused on Sam. She took a gulp of tea.

“I’m sorry,” Kaylie said. “I forget that other people might not know about Eden. Let me explain it as best I can.
She
is Curtis Lott, the Mother of Eden. Eden is a group of people who live an exalted life, close to the land, even closer to God, by simply being in Curtis’s presence. Curtis is God’s representative on earth. She was chosen from immaculate conception, as all the leaders of Eden are. They spring from their mother’s wombs with the knowledge of the universe, and it’s their divine duty to share this with the people who can hear the truth.

“Curtis is the fifth Mother of Eden on this earth. There have been many others in many worlds. Their sign, the triskele—you did the autopsy on Doug, I saw you turn him and see the tattoo—is the sacred mark, one given by the grace of God, and all the members of Eden have one. It’s a great honor. For each bit of the tattoo, a member of Eden gives their blood to be mixed into the ink and shares a truth they have learned while their section is being done. So you’re both marked and enlightened, and it means everyone is one with the other. There is no self-actualization once you’ve been marked. You are the collective conscience, and you think, do, say, wear and act the way Curtis decrees, because this is what God wants for you. It is a very painful but fulfilling experience, or so I’ve been told. For me, it was just painful.”

“May we see it? Your tattoo?”

Her face grew tight. Then she shrugged, turned and lifted her shirt. Her back was covered in intricate marks. Just like Doug Matcliff’s.

Seeing the tattoo in real life, on a living body, knowing about the blood in the ink—Sam was both fascinated and horrified. The triskele seemed to be alive, moving and flowing with Kaylie’s every move. It rippled as her muscles contracted under her fair skin. Sam resisted an urge to touch it, to feel it coiling under her fingers like a snake.

“They did all this in a single night?”

Kaylie pulled her shirt down. “Yes. It is their way. There is a second ceremony, and a final piece of the mark put into place, when you
become.
I am missing the centerpiece because Doug got me out before I was made an official sacrosanct. Those are the women of Eden. Women are sacred, and Curtis’s purpose on this earth is to see them glorified. But few are worthy of this honor. That’s why there were never more than fifteen sacrosancts at a time.”

Xander was taking notes so Sam could continue coaxing the story from their surprise guest.

“And Adrian was one of the marked?”

“He was hers. Every leader of Eden has a fiery sword, a man who does their bidding, who fathers the pods, who metes out punishment and rewards. He is to be feared and respected and treated as a god second only to Curtis. She is his only master, but he is our Great Father.”

“Pods? Do you mean children?”

Kaylie looked puzzled for a moment. “Yes.”

“Oh. Okay. So Adrian is the father of them all?”

“Yes, that’s it exactly. He is the Father, and Curtis is the Mother. All things have their opposite—the sun and the moon, the sky and the earth, fire and water, wind and soil. The Father and the Mother are the lifeblood of Eden. Adrian would do anything for Curtis.” She shuddered again. “Anything.”

“Were there other men in Eden besides Adrian?”

“Yes, but they had no liberties. Adrian was the one who came to the women. The men—there were four or five when I was there—are solely laborers, guards. Despite God’s great gift to the women, the divine ability to procreate, there were still a few things the men could be used for. It was a farm, and there are aspects to it that needed brute strength instead of delicacy. Plus, when the women were full of God’s gift, they couldn’t work in the fields, so the men took care of that, too.”

“Where did Doug fit in to all of this?”

She smiled. “Adrian brought him to the fold. He was good and kind and not like the others. He was special to Curtis, because he knew things from the outside no one had ever heard of. He knew his way around the weapons they had, too.”

Xander stopped writing. “What weapons?”

“Guns. Lots of them.”

“Handguns, rifles, shotguns?”

“M-4s, AR-15s mostly, though I haven’t been there in many years, so they may be using something different now. Curtis couldn’t take the chance of something bad happening to Eden. They are a peaceful group in her mind, but there is always room for misinterpretation. After Doug came, the men were also used for the patrols. Real security. Doug taught them the proper way to use the guns, how to load them and care for them, to take them apart and put them together with their eyes closed. He was very valuable to the group. Very valuable. So much so Curtis sometimes talked to him alone. It made Adrian very mad. He was very possessive of Curtis.”

“Why did you leave? Why did Doug take you, I should say?”

“Oh.” She blushed, a ripe red starting on her throat and rapidly moving upward. “Can he leave?”

Sam motioned with her head to Xander, who said, “It’s time to walk Thor, anyway. I’ll be back.”

When the door closed behind him, Kaylie visibly relaxed. “I had been injured, very badly. I was very small for my age, and the pod tore me apart. I thought they were done with me, and he must have, as well, because he came to the dark place I was left in and took me away. I don’t remember much. I was in a great deal of pain. I remember the pod coming, though. You’re a mother. You know how much that hurts, that huge thing forcing its way out from between your legs. You were a grown woman when it happened to you. I was still very small.”

These words were stated matter-of-factly, no hint of embarrassment. Sam swallowed and said, “I’ve heard. I’ve never experienced it, birth, that is. I had a cesarean. Twins. They were early, and the doctors wanted to be sure they would be okay, so they did the operation instead of letting me go into labor.”

“Twins! You are doubly blessed.”

She bowed her head, and Sam swallowed. “Yes, I was. Very blessed.”

“I wonder if I’d had twins if Curtis would have been happier with me. She seemed very disgusted that night. I never understood why.”

“How old were you when you had the baby?”

“Pod,” she said automatically. “Twelve, thirteen, I think. I’d been there for several years. It took twelve Reasonings to make a pod stay in me.”

“Reasonings?”

“The quarterly coupling. It was how the pods were made. The sacrosancts were much better at it than I was. They even claimed to enjoy it. I didn’t. At all. It was awful. Adrian was so huge, he’s a giant, and his... It was so big. I was never open enough for him. He didn’t care, just spread my legs and ripped me right apart. I was so glad it only happened four times a year. It took many weeks to heal.”

Sam wanted to kill this Adrian man who raped a young girl so many times she could discuss the awful reality of it almost nonchalantly. “And you and Doug?”

Kaylie jumped back on the couch. “Never! He wouldn’t ever do something like that to me. Force me. He was like a father to me, a real one, not a false God like Adrian or a weakling like the man who made me with my mother. She died when I was born, so there was something wrong with her, too. He couldn’t make anything with my stepmother, of course. She was so awful and mean I doubt he’d ever want to.”

“Were there other girls like you, Kaylie?” Sam asked, carefully.

“Like me? Not that I know of. But I was kept underground most of the time, in the dark, and only summoned for the Reasonings when it was the right time. I didn’t get to be with the other people of Eden except for on the special days. I was their special secret. Curtis educated me herself, in private.”

“So you don’t know if there were other girls that they kidnapped?”

Her eyes grew big and round. “Are there others? Others like me? I thought I heard something once, before I left. They were talking about Elsa, who was one of the older sacrosancts. She hadn’t given a pod in quite a while, and so they were going to bring someone new to the sacrosancts.”

You lose one, you replace one.

“May I ask, what happened to your...pod?”

Kaylie’s eyes grew distant again, her voice desolate. “She went away. Curtis told me she was taken for reincarnation right away because she was so perfect, and they buried the shell in the cornfield. I was too sick to find her then.”

Xander came back in the door, Thor moving quietly by his master’s side. He raised an eyebrow at Sam, and tapped his wrist. She took the hint.

“Kaylie, I know there is so much more to your story you need to share with me, but I think it’s time we call my friends at the FBI. They’re going to be very happy to hear you’re okay.”

“I can’t stay here?”

“No, honey, you can’t. There are too many people who need to talk to you. I have a very good friend who has been a part of your case since the beginning, and he’s going to be overjoyed to talk to you. So let’s give him a call, and they’ll get you hooked right up.”

She nodded, shrinking back into a ball in the corner of the sofa. “If you say it’s best, then okay. But I don’t want to see my parents. They can’t know I’m alive. It’s better that way.”

Sam wasn’t about to let that nasty old hag anywhere near Kaylie. She debated for a moment telling Kaylie about her father’s death, then decided to leave it alone. There was enough going on in the poor girl’s head without any additional horrors.

“Just my friend at the FBI,” Sam said. “We can deal with all that later. Drink your tea, I’ll be right back.”

“Doug was right about you.”

That stopped her. “What?”

“Doug said I could trust you to do the right thing. That you wouldn’t let me be victimized. You would know the people who could keep me safe.”

“I appreciate that he trusted me with you. Kaylie, did Doug ever say how he knew me? Why he would come to me to investigate his murder?”

“You’re a very wise woman. The papers said so. Doug knew you were trustworthy. He knew you lost your pods, that you’d understand why it was so important to help us.”

A chill went down Sam’s spine. The idea that someone had been watching her from afar, paying attention to her private life, upset her. And that Doug Matcliff had chosen her by reputation alone was even worse. She didn’t want to be known. She wanted to work behind the scenes.

She changed the subject.

“Kaylie, do you know Henry Matcliff?”

She smiled, a sweet, gentle look, completely at odds with the situation. “Of course. That’s me.”

“Excuse me?”

“It was the only way to keep me safe. Doug raised me as a boy. We knew they’d be looking for a man and a girl, a daughter. Me being a son made more sense. I didn’t start growing my hair until last year, when I left.”

“Left? To go where?”

She just shook her head, eyes downcast. Her lips tightened into a thin line. Sam got the sense she’d said more than she wanted.

Kaylie had shared all she was willing to. For now.