CHAPTER 29

I JUST DON'T GET it!” Ginny said.  “This is not the Melissa I knew.  I guess I didn’t really know her at all.  It’s all so…so grisly.”

Ginny was sitting in her living room.  Her head was bandaged and a bandage was on her right forearm where she had tried to deflect a piece of burning wreckage during the fire at the ranch house.  Jan had a cup of coffee and was standing in the middle of the room.

“I had a long talk with Deck Edwards,” Jan said.  “He has a theory.  It sort of helped me understand.”

“Well?”

“Deck says that Melissa was trying to deliver a message.”

“A message to whom? What sort of message?”

“Well obviously, Melissa had come to the end of her rope.  She, in her own words, ‘had seen too much.’  She came to see Mormonism as an elevation of lust and superstition—particularly within the Mormon temple ceremony.  She had seen the religion used to turn women into baby-factories while the men were turned into studs.”

“OK,” Ginny said.  “But how does she get from there to…this?”

“Melissa came to believe that she had given her life, not just to nonsense, but nonsense which was designed to turn women into sex slaves.  So when she came to the end of her rope, she returned to the temple ceremony and drove a nail into the areas of Campbell’s body that correspond to the areas where she was ‘anointed’ in that ceremony.  Deck called it an act of repudiation.”

Ginny sighed deeply.  “What keeps this going, anyway, Jan?”

“Who can say?  It’s like a bad dream that can’t be exorcised.  Throughout the West, prophets keep coming forward, saying they represent true Mormonism.  According to Deck, the problem is that the system was so inbred from the start that it can’t be fixed.  He says it’s doomed to perpetuate, now that it has reached its present size—probably forever.  Most of these movements never make it past the first generation or so before they peter out.  The genius of Joseph Smith was to get himself martyred.  The genius of Brigham Young, of course, was to isolate the church until it achieved respectability because of its size and wealth.”

“I’m not worried about Campbell,” Ginny said. “I’m worried about Melissa.”

“Yeah.” Jan said.  He softened.  “And I’m worried about you, kid.  How you doin’?  You’ve been through a lot yourself.”

“Me?  Hmmm.  I haven’t thought about that.”

“Well, it’s time you did.  In fact, maybe it’s time we both thought about taking care of ourselves for awhile.”

“I think you’re right,” she said.

***

Monster was sitting at his desk, feet up, looking at the ceiling and smoking when Jan came in.

“Isn’t this a smoke-free area?” Jan asked lightly.

Monster continued to look at the ceiling, attempting to make smoke rings.  Jan put two paper cups of coffee and a box of donuts on the desk.  At the rustle of the paper sack, Monster sat upright.

“You sure know how to get my attention,” he said.

“Well, you’re easy to tempt.”

“I am at that,” Monster said.  “How’s Ginny holding up?  How’s her burn healing?”

“She’s OK.  At least she’ll be OK.  I know that because she told me so herself.”

Monster smiled.  “Yeah, she will.  Tough girl, Ginny.  I feel good about the two of you.”

“Yeah?”

Monster chuckled.  “Jan, Jan.  Time to move ahead, boy.”

“Oh, yeah?  How about you?  You gonna move ahead?”

“Been thinking about retiring.”

“Uh huh.”

“Yeah, gonna let Harold run this place for six months.  My contract with the county commissioners allows me to take a six-month sabbatical and appoint an acting sheriff.”

“I suppose you are going to Connecticut?”

“Well, among other places.”

“John, what would you do if you didn’t chase bad guys?”

“Who says I won’t chase bad guys?  Don’t need a badge to do that.  Matter of fact, been thinking about all the little Ronnie Hansens running around here in the wild West.  Also been thinking how handicapped the law is.  Look at Olson.  Liable to lose his retirement over all the fun we’ve had.”

“Monster Broadbeck, bounty hunter?”

“Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?  But there is no bounty, so I won’t be obligated to bring ‘em back alive.  I kinda like that part.  I’ll be a freelancer—like you!”“John,” Jan said, “I think I said this before, but sometimes you scare me—big time!”

Monster laughed loudly at that.  He crushed out his cigarette.  He formed his right hand into a gun, index finger pointing at Jan, thumb cocked like a hammer.

“Pow!” he said and laughed some more.