Georgia flew through the city in her Toyota and got to Wheeling in less than forty minutes. The plane, a six-seat Cessna, was waiting, and her name was on a placard held by a man in a pilot’s uniform. She waved to him, and he led her out to the tarmac where they boarded the plane.
A few minutes later another woman was escorted out to the plane and came aboard. She introduced herself. “Agent Thurmond.”
Georgia shook her hand then strapped herself in.
Forty minutes later, after a smooth, uneventful flight, they landed at Winchester, a private airport a few miles north of Nauvoo. It wasn’t much more than an airstrip with a one-story building at one end. It reminded Georgia of the airstrip in Lake Geneva behind the Grand Geneva Hotel. Jimmy used it on official business, and his friend Luke Sutton, Ellie Foreman’s boyfriend, parked his plane there.
Georgia disembarked and saw LeJeune in a nondescript gray SUV. Jimmy was driving. They were both dressed casually in jeans and plaid shirts, like almost every other man in Nauvoo.
“You’re not here,” LeJeune said by way of greeting.
“Of course not.” She leaned over and kissed Jimmy.
“Have you checked out the house?” she asked.
“We drove past it,” Jimmy said. “It’s in the middle of some woods, practically hidden from sight. Where’s the school?”
“It’s in downtown Nauvoo. On Knight Street. A two-story house about half a mile from the motel. Which, by the way, is where Eden thinks they’re holding JoBeth.”
“The motel we went to?” Jimmy asked. He started driving toward Nauvoo.
“Yup.” She met his gaze in the rearview. “You went up to the second floor. To Benson’s room in the back. Remember? You said it looked pretty bare.”
“I did. I took some pictures.”
“Ho, ho, ho. Christmas is coming early this year,” LeJeune chortled.
Jimmy dug his cell out of his pocket and handed it to Georgia. “Send them to him?”
“Sure.”
LeJeune studied them when they popped up on his cell. “Were there any other rooms up there?”
Jimmy shook his head. “I don’t think so. Can you see a few doors close to each other next to the first room? I took them for utility closets, for supplies and electrical equipment, that kind of thing.”
“That’s what Eden said,” Georgia said.
“A motel isn’t a bad place to keep a hostage,” LeJeune said. “People coming and going all the time. Everyone complaining about noise from the next room. Whoever thought it up is no dummy.”
“According to Eden, Porter is cagey that way,” Georgia said. Then she explained why Porter might want to kill Eden, rather than welcome back his wayward wife. “He started a drug running and weapons operation.”
“What the—?” LeJeune said.
“She overheard him talking about it with some of his pals one night. They’re selling to other Fundamentalist groups. Everyone’s still pissed about the Warren Jeffs arrest. They want to organize. Maybe do something radical.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. I doubt they know either. But you can bet it won’t be peaceful. Especially if they’re all armed and tripped out on meth and whatever else they’re selling. Eden tried to talk him out of it. It didn’t work. He beat her.”
“He probably thinks he’s gonna make a lot of money,” Jimmy said.
“Exactly. Mormons up here are living on the edge. Covid didn’t help. Add in the resentment about Warren Jeffs, and she says the Fundamentalists are pretty pissed off. So Porter is making plans.” Georgia leaned forward, her hands clutching the back of Jimmy’s seat. “But Eden thinks he’ll kill her to keep her from telling anyone about it.”
“He’d kill the mother of his children?” Jimmy asked.
“He’s got another wife, Jimmy. And kids. And Eden is sure he’s working on wife number three. She and Porter weren’t getting along. Now he has a reason to get rid of her.”
LeJeune whistled. “These Mormon Fundamentalists are nasty.” He paused. “You know what I think?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “I think we ought to check out those supply closets at the motel ASAP, don’t you?”
“Let’s get the kids first, okay?”