CHAPTER TWELVE

“Just tell me what it is that you want,” Paul Traylor said. He jerked at the ropes that bound his wrists and was rewarded with a twinge of pain. He had already rubbed the skin raw over the last few hours.

The man called Fry gave him a smile. “Nothing, sir. Nothing at all. In fact, like I already told you, I’m going to do something for you. You just have to be patient.”

Traylor slumped in the straight-backed wooden chair. He and Fry were in a bare room in one of the buildings behind an old country church. Fry had brought Claire and him there after forcibly taking them from their home. Traylor’s face burned in humiliation at the memory of his brief fight with Fry. He had always thought he knew how to handle himself, but Fry had easily dealt with Traylor’s attempt to defend himself, smiling that infuriating smile the entire time.

Traylor glared at the red-headed man. “Then untie me.”

“Can’t do that, Hoss. You might assault me again and then where would we be? Just stay calm for a bit longer. Almost dusk. Once evening arrives I’ll show you why I brought you here.”

“And after that you’ll let us go?”

“I will indeed. Won’t be any reason to keep you here after that.”

And I’ll go running to the nearest police officer. You are out of your fucking country-boy mind if you think I will let this slide. Traylor said, “Will you just let me talk to Claire, then?”

“At dusk, Hoss. Don’t worry. She’s fine. Do I look like the sort of man who would hurt a woman? Hell, boy, I wouldn’t have slapped you around if you hadn’t come at me.”

“You broke into my home!”

“Yes, well, the reverend says I have a problem with um... impulse control. Then again, he told me to bring you here and I don’t think you’d have come along just on my say-so.”

“If he wanted us here so badly why hasn’t he come to talk to us himself?”

“Reverend Cotton is a busy man. I expect he’ll be by before too long though.”

Maybe this is all a mistake. Maybe Reverend Cotton hired this backwoods lunatic without realizing how crazy the man was. With any luck, Traylor would be able to talk sense to the reverend.

Fry sauntered over to the window and raised the old-fashioned shade. “Guess it’s getting about that time. You just wait here nice and quiet and I’ll go get your missus.”

“Don’t hurt her. Please.”

Fry’s face took on a pained expression. “I wouldn’t do that, Hoss. You’ve got me all wrong. Back in a sec.”

Fry went out the door and Traylor began struggling with the ropes again. He had no better luck than on his previous attempts. The tough cords were bound tight. His feet were similarly bound to the legs of the chair, so he couldn’t even try to get to the door or window. How in the world had he ended up in this situation? What did Fry and his boss want? Fry kept saying they were going to do him a favor. What the hell was that all about?

Traylor heard footfalls outside the door and he stopped struggling. The door swung inward and Traylor breathed a sigh of relief as Claire came in. Her hands were bound behind her but she didn’t seem to have been harmed.

“Oh Paul,” Claire said. “Are you all right?”

“Fine, dear. Just fine.”

Fry stepped in behind Claire carrying a second straight-backed chair. He placed it on the floor beside Paul and told Claire to sit down. When Claire was seated, Fry said, “See? I told you I wouldn’t hurt her. You got me all wrong, Hoss. Right now I’m your best friend.”

“What are you talking about?” Traylor said. “You attacked us. Kidnapped us.”

Fry said, “All for a good reason. I’m about to reunite you with your little girl. How does that sound?”

“Lynn is here?” Claire said. “You kidnapped our daughter, you son of a bitch!”

“No ma’am, no. Wasn’t like that at all. Your little girl came to Reverend Cotton seeking guidance. He helped her find the Lord, ma’am, and she came here to escape the temptations of the world.”

Traylor suddenly recalled the flier he had found. In all the excitement it had slipped his thoughts. And Griffin had asked if Lynn had said anything about religion. Was that it? Had she joined a cult of some kind?

Traylor said, “You’re saying she’s here though?”

“Yep, just down the hall.”

“If you’re lying to me, or if you’ve hurt her, I’ll kill you.”

“None of that now, Hoss. She’s just fine. I’m going to go now and tell her to come see you.”

Fry stepped out and Traylor turned to his wife. “Do you think Lynn’s really here?”

“God, I hope so. She can untie us and we’ll all get out of this terrible place.”

Traylor wondered if things would be that easy. If Lynn was here she had apparently come of her own free will. Had she been brainwashed? He had heard of such things. And if so, would she be willing to help them escape?

The door swung open slowly and there stood Lynn. She was wearing jeans and a crisp white shirt. Her hair was brushed back from her face and she looked perfectly fine. Maybe things would work out after all.

“Lynn!” Claire said. “Oh, sweetheart. Thank God you’re all right.”

Traylor said, “Come and untie us, honey. Hurry before that crazy man comes back.” Lynn stood looking at them but made no move to approach. Had they drugged her? “Did you hear me, Lynn? Come and untie us.”

Lynn reached behind her and closed the door. Then she started toward her parents. Traylor smiled. Once he was out of the ropes he would find a way to get them away from this lunatic asylum.

“That’s the way, hun,” he said.

Lynn stopped directly in front of the two chairs and looked at her parents. Then she smiled a wide, wide smile, and Paul Traylor started screaming.

* * *

Carl woke extra early. Not because he had to, nor even because he felt the need to prepare himself for a day that would, as he’d later learn, be immensely difficult. No, he woke early because he wanted to. He wanted to savor a couple of cups of coffee, wanted to have a good breakfast and finally, he wanted to be as bright and alert as possible when he knocked on the front door of the Phillips household.

He needed to be as alert as possible.

Allan Chambers took a few of the best crime tech guys with him to the photography studio. They were ready and they hit hard. Carl knew they would, because Allan didn’t make mistakes. Not when it came to the big stuff. Everyone can screw up now and then, to be sure, but not Allan and not when it came to the sort of thing that meant prosecuting child pornographers. Why not? Because Allan had three beautiful little daughters. Even mentioning the situation to the man had him ready to draw a weapon and put several bullets through skulls. That was why he got to go to the studio before the place was open. There was less chance he’d be tempted to actually follow through with that particular desire. Allan preferred it that way, too.

So it was Carl, along with Nora Evans and Thelma McPherson and four other deputies to cover the house and Allan with eight more to cover the office. Nora knew where the computers were. Thelma knew how to properly frisk and interrogate the lady of the house. There was a little overtime involved this time around. He’d make it work out. You had to work fast with this sort of situation and they wanted all of the evidence bagged, tagged and catalogued before anyone outside of the teams knew what was happening. Any connections between the Phillips family and any outside influences had to be isolated, clarified and followed up on as quickly as possible to avoid the destruction of possible paper trails.

Corey Phillips and his wife were both still in bed when the warrant got served. Carl knocked once, waited exactly three seconds and then had Dave Osbourne hit the door with the battering ram. The door lost the argument. The Phillipses were still in bed and just starting to panic when Carl opened the bedroom door and served them the warrant.

Corey Phillips looked all kinds of terrified from the second Carl entered the room. His wife on the other hand? She only started looking scared when he showed her the warrant. All the calm and cool she’d offered up when he’d asked questions about her daughter Amber vanished as soon as she knew she wasn’t going to get out of the bed and manage to reach any other part of the house.

The fear on her face, in her eyes, that was what had set off his alarms before. She hadn’t been the least bit worried about her daughter. No kind of concern on the woman’s pretty face at all until she saw a piece of paper.

He was glad he brought Thelma along. Thelma would handle talking to the woman. Thelma was a damned tough woman – he’d seen her drop a few men bigger than him when she had to. But she was also a lot better at being calm than he was, even under the circumstances.

Always know your weaknesses and prepare for them. It was best to have Thelma there, because she’d stop him from pulling the trigger the same way he’d already stopped Allan.

Some people just need to get shot. It’s best to make sure there’s a reason before you start shooting. By the time most of the neighbors were out of bed and getting ready for work the worst of it was over. Most of the evidence had been collected and the loving parents of Amber Phillips were sitting in separate holding cells, waiting for a conversation with Allan Chambers and Chief Stack’s finest detectives. The GBI was likely going to bring someone in to have a little palaver with them as well.

That was just fine with Carl.

He and Wade had another warrant to serve. It was going to be one of those days.

* * *

A slow day at Baba Yaga’s. Charon didn’t mind the occasional off day. Her little business did surprisingly well, and her side business as a dealer in rare books, was booming. Besides, the lack of customers gave her time to do a little digging on Reverend Lazarus Cotton.

Seated at her desk in her small office in the back of the store, she kept trying different Internet searches on Cotton. So far she hadn’t turned up much. Griffin had said the reverend had moved from Florida to Georgia fairly recently. Charon wondered why the move. Since he seemed to operate independently of any governing body, it wasn’t like some church elders had transferred him.

The address of his former church was in Clearwater, Florida, on the Gulf Coast. Charon had taken a few vacations there with her folks when she had been a kid. She found a link to the Clearwater Herald and hoped the newspaper had a searchable archive. Bingo, it did. She typed in Cotton’s name and got half a dozen results. Most were articles about various revivals, but the last headline read ‘Church Fire Still Unsolved’.

Charon clicked on the article and read the contents. Apparently Cotton’s last Mount Zion Church of Faith had burned to the ground. The authorities suspected arson, but they didn’t have any leads. There was one more interesting bit of information. When the burning church had collapsed, it had sunk unusually far into the ground, as if the foundation had been very deep.

She bookmarked the article, then copied the link and emailed it to Griffin. Ah, Griffin. The man was fighting some inner battle, and he wasn’t telling her about it. She tried not to feel hurt about his lack of communication. One of the things that had drawn her to him was his brooding nature, but sometimes the strong, silent thing could be a bit much to bear. Still, he had become far more open in the time they had been together. She would just have to hope he would tell her what was bothering him.

Charon had learned to walk a fine line with Griffin about what he did and didn’t tell her. Cliché as it sounded, there were things about his past she was probably better off not knowing. Hell, she had a few skeletons of her own. Of course Griffin’s skeletons were often literal.

She knew that was part of what was bothering him. She could tell from things he said that he feared alienating Charon because of the things he had done. The things he still did.

That was what had happened with Beth, the woman who had once shared the same house that Charon currently shared with Griffin. But she hadn’t just been trying to make him feel better when she had called him the best man she knew. He stood up for what he believed and he never let his friends down. Yeah, he was a little scary at times, but Charon always felt safe with him.

She heard the shop doorbell jingle and got up and headed toward the front of the store. Enough introspection. Time to make like a grown up and earn a living.