For His Name's Sake (Psalm 23 Mysteries) Read online

  “Right. Rumor has it he had almost everything converted to gold and precious jewels which he hid somewhere on the site. He only kept enough cash to buy the supplies the group couldn’t grow or make on their own. That treasure is what has sent a lot of people up into those hills hunting for remains of the cult.”

  “I’m guessing the locals didn’t like all this in their backyard.”

  “Not one bit. There were some skirmishes until Matthews banned his people from going into town at all. Naturally this raised red flags for the families of those people. He started having the things they needed delivered up the mountain.”

  “Then, the first child went missing. Dietrich Schmidt. His family was wealthy. The F.B.I. got involved. The parents paid five million dollars for the return of their son. Whoever kidnapped him took the money but never returned the child. The authorities could never prove who was behind the kidnapping but, obviously, the cult came under suspicion because they were already a bone of contention in the community. Plus, Dietrich’s cousin was one of its members so there was a theory that he could have lured the child away from the playground where he was last seen.”

  “That’s terrible.”

  “Three other children were taken, with the same results. Paul was the last. Two years later he showed up, and we obviously have doubts that he was the same boy that was taken. What I do know is he is the only boy to have shown up, either real or imposter. Now, here’s where things get interesting.”

  “What is it?” Cindy asked, feeling breathless.

  “As it turns out, a week after Paul turned up, the cult vanished completely. No one saw signs of them leaving town, and they would have had to pass through Pine Springs on their way to anywhere else. The couple of businesses that were delivering weekly supplies up there arrived to find the place empty, no signs of anyone. What’s even weirder, when authorities searched the area later that day, they couldn’t find signs that the cult had ever been there.”

  “That is weird.”

  “It was as though they had never been there. There was speculation for years that they had moved farther into the mountains, but several searches revealed no evidence of that. Eventually people decided that somehow they must have snuck through town, perhaps in small groups, and moved somewhere else. I find that theory improbable for a number of reasons. One of the chief ones being that there’s no evidence of the group ever surfacing somewhere else. In theory they would still need to do business with someone for the same sorts of supplies they were having ordered in before.”

  “The mass grave that was discovered contained the bodies of the cultists,” Cindy said.

  “Yes, I would agree. That in itself, though, poses some interesting questions. Who killed them, how and why? Someone had to bury the bodies which means someone survived that massacre. Was it Matthew? Did he move on to greener pastures with his now vast wealth? Or was it one of the other cultists? Or perhaps it could have even been an outsider.”

  A chill danced up Cindy’s spine. “Is it possible that it was Paul?”

  There was a pause on the other end of the line. “I’d have to check my notes, go back over my interviews and see exactly what time the last successful delivery happened. It would also be helpful to know where on the road Paul was found by the police and at what exact time.”

  “That would be awful,” Cindy whispered.

  “It’s possible the boy buried them. It’s possible he escaped before or during the massacre.”

  “Do you think it’s possible that Matthew was his father?”

  “I don’t recall if there were stories of a boy being one of the first who arrived with Matthew. I will have to pull up those interviews. Fortunately, as you know, I record all my interviews and I also keep those.”

  “Please tell me when you find out more. I’ll see if I can pinpoint the timing of Paul’s reappearance.”

  “Excellent. Given that the man risked everything by threatening my life, he must have had something powerful to hide. Whoever he was, I’m willing to bet he knew full well he was not the real Paul and that he knew what happened, or what was going to happen, to those people.”

  “So, it’s possible Paul was a killer, even though he was only ten.”

  “My dear, if not a killer, he might well have been an accomplice.”

  7

  Cindy told Gerald everything she knew, including the things that Mark had discovered in Righteousness. They agreed to touch base again with each other in two days. After hanging up she just sat for a few minutes pondering what they had talked about.

  There was so much going on with the wedding and whoever wanted to hurt Geanie that she really didn’t have time to fixate on the Paul mystery. If anything, she should be fixated on the Geanie mystery. Sitting alone in the room, though, she admitted to herself that that mystery scared her. She didn’t truly believe that there were any skeletons in either Joseph or Geanie’s closets, but just admitting out loud that someone wanted to do them harm made her feel sick to her stomach.

  “Ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away,” she said out loud. Instead, the best course of action would be to do what she could to stop it and soon so that they could all get back to enjoying the Royal Wedding.

  Unfortunately, she had no idea where to start. Fortunately, though, she wasn’t alone in this and hopefully when they all put their heads together in a couple of hours things would start to make sense.

  She got up and went downstairs to find that Geanie had apparently finished up in the kitchen. She moved back into the foyer and looked up the grand staircase. It really was a massive house. Searching for her could take forever. The guys were gone, though, so it should just be the two of them in the house. She knew it was incredibly undignified, but she threw back her head and shouted, “Geanie, where are you?”

  She tilted her head to listen, but there was no answering call. After a few seconds fear pricked at her spine.

  Calm down, there are police outside. Nothing could have happened to her in the last few minutes, she told herself.

  Theorizing that maybe Geanie had gone back to her room and Cindy hadn’t heard her earlier she raced back upstairs and down the hall. She knocked on Geanie’s door.

  “Geanie, are you in there?”

  She listened, but didn’t hear anything. After a minute she tried the door. It was unlocked so she opened it and went in. The room was empty. She made her way from there to the study where all the wedding favors were neatly boxed up and divided by table. There was no sign of her there either. She climbed up to the third floor and looked about once she reached the landing. Joseph’s mansion was sprawling and she’d never toured all of it so she had no idea where to look next.

  She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted for Geanie again. Once more only silence greeted her. Maybe Geanie had decided to go outside for some reason. She could be getting some fresh air or playing with one of the dogs. Cindy raced down the stairs and out the front door.

  One of the officers guarding the house looked over from his position by the drive and waved. She jogged over to him.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “Have you seen Geanie?”

  “No. Why?”

  “I can’t find her. You’re sure she didn’t come out here?”

  “I haven’t seen her. Do you want me to help you search, call in a team?”

  “No, I’m sure she’s around here somewhere,” Cindy said.

  The truth was, if they needed to call in a search team they probably weren’t going to like what they found. She had to believe Geanie was somewhere in the house. The question was, why wasn’t she answering? Had she not heard her calling? It was possible. She could be listening to music. Or maybe she was just really needing some alone time.

  “Thanks anyway,” she told the officer.

  She marched back to the house, determined to open every single door until she found her. Once she was back inside she pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and tried calling Geanie, b
ut it just went to voicemail. She turned and headed to the right, trying to remember what was in that direction in the house.

  She caught a splash of color out of the corner of her eye, and she stopped and turned. There was Geanie, standing stock still, next to a small table positioned underneath the grand staircase, invisible from the foyer. She was staring at something in her hand that Cindy couldn’t quite see from the angle she was approaching.

  Something in Geanie’s posture, coupled with the fact that she hadn’t responded to her calling, frightened Cindy more than words could say.

  “What is it?” Cindy asked, approaching hesitantly.

  “It seems to be a message,” Geanie said, her voice strained. She looked up at Cindy with fear-filled eyes.

  She was holding a black rose stripped of leaves with a card attached to it.

  Cindy licked her lips. “Where did you get that?”

  “I found it here, on this table back here. You know, in the old days, tables like this were used for people to leave their calling cards.”

  “Also in the old days people used flowers to convey intricate messages,” Cindy said.

  “That’s right,” Geanie said with a nod. “The language of flowers.”

  There was no need to ask what a black rose meant, the meaning was pretty self-explanatory. “What does the card say?” Cindy asked.

  “It says ‘No happy endings.’”

  Cindy took a deep breath. That’s what the intruder had told her the night before. He had also been behind her when she’d been staring at the front door. He must have left the rose on the table before she surprised him.

  “What does he want from us?” Geanie asked, her voice quavering.

  Cindy walked forward and took the rose from Geanie, careful not to prick herself on one of the thorns. She stared at it for a moment before setting it back down on the table.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to find out.”

  “He keeps saying no happy endings.”

  “Well, that’s where he’s wrong. There is a happy ending for you and for Joseph. Happily ever after, just like in a fairy tale.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I just do,” Cindy said, putting as much conviction into the words as she could. “When Mark gets here we’ll show this to him. Maybe it’s just the clue he needs to run this guy down.”

  “You think so?” Geanie asked.

  No, she didn’t, but she wasn’t about to say that to Geanie. “Absolutely. This guy has slipped up and we’re going to catch him and put him away forever. The only one who won’t be getting a happy ending is him. Why, I bet by tonight he’s behind bars.”

  She put her arm around Geanie and steered her toward the kitchen. Some hot tea might be good for both of them.

  “I hope so,” Geanie breathed. “All my family arrives tomorrow and I don’t know what I’ll do if this is still going on.”

  Cindy winced having forgotten about Geanie’s parents and her cousin. She believed there were some other relatives, too, but they were staying at a hotel. Her parents and cousin had been supposed to stay with them at their house. Which meant that now they’d be staying here, too. Right in the line of fire along with the rest of them.

  Cindy was on the verge of suggesting that maybe they should send them to a hotel, too, but quickly changed her mind. Geanie was exhibiting some classic symptoms of shock and she didn’t need to be trying to make a decision like that at the moment. When the guys got back and Mark arrived then she could bring it up and they’d all decide together what to do. In this case five heads were certainly better than two.

  Mark was feeling more than a little unsettled as he stared at the reports in his hand. The stolen car that had nearly run down Geanie and Cindy had been gone over with a fine tooth comb and revealed nothing. Absolutely nothing. Whoever had wiped down the inside hadn’t left a fingerprint, a strand of hair, anything. That took patience, attention to detail, and more knowledge of forensics than most people had. Given that nobody had witnessed anything when the car was stolen, and its tinted front window made it impossible for traffic cameras to get a good glimpse inside, the car was a complete dead end.

  The report on the bridal shop was even worse. It had been a bomb, apparently a highly sophisticated one, that had taken out the store. Even trying to read the write up on it made his head hurt and his eyes cross.

  Something was fishy about this whole thing. Whoever this guy was, he wasn’t just some ordinary guy. Nor was he a low level thug. What he was pulling off took specialized skills, training. It was only through shear dumb luck, or possibly the grace of God, that Geanie was still alive.

  What kind of beef could someone capable of these things have with Joseph, though? It made no sense. It was possible that whoever was after Geanie had just been hired by whoever wanted her dead. A hired assassin. That was the last thing any of them needed in their lives.

  Liam came in looking so cheerful that Mark had a desire to punch him. He restrained himself, though, and instead handed him the reports. Liam skimmed them then looked up.

  “See if you can get information out of someone, anyone, about killers that have used that kind of bomb,” he said.

  Liam raised an eyebrow. “You think someone hired this guy?”

  “I’m thinking that’s the best theory at the moment. I’m going to work on figuring out who might have hired him and I want you to work on figuring out who he might be. If we can catch either person, we can put an end to all this.”

  He had a sudden, horrific flashback to the whole Green Pastures mess. There it hadn’t been enough to capture the man behind the assassins. In the end Mark had risked everything he was, everything he had, to beat the truth out of that man only to find there was no way to contact the killers to call everything off. A shiver went up his spine and he felt sick inside. Why was it that in his life, in his entire career, there was one horrific moment, one terrible choice, that kept coming back to torment him again and again?

  And once again he was reminded that Paul had instigated it all, right before he went off and got killed by one of those very assassins.

  “You okay?” Liam asked.

  “No, I’m not,” Mark said. What was it they said about the truth setting you free? If that was the case, why didn’t he feel any better for admitting that?

  He stood up abruptly. “Let’s get moving. The wedding’s a week from tomorrow. That’s all the time the killer has which means we have even less.”

  “Understood.” Liam sat down at his desk and immediately picked up the phone.

  Mark grabbed his jacket and headed for the door, trying to shake the bad feeling that seemed intent on lingering and the images that kept replaying themselves like some hellish movie over and over again in his mind.

  “It’s all going to work out,” he muttered as he got into his car.

  It had to work out, anything else was unacceptable, even if it wasn’t unthinkable.

  He was headed to Joseph’s. He had told him noon, but some things just wouldn’t wait.

  “Thank you again,” Joseph said as he and Jeremiah stood still while tailors took measurements.

  “For what?” Jeremiah asked, glancing down as one man tugged on his left pant leg.

  “Where do I begin?” Joseph said with a shake of his head. “Being there for me, watching out for all of us, agreeing to be my best man, you name it.”

  “That’s what friends are for,” Jeremiah said, forcing a smile. It had been a long time since he was fitted for a suit like this and the sensation brought back a lot of memories, some good, most bad. At least Joseph had excellent taste when it came to tuxedos. These weren’t just any tuxes. They were Armani that had been brought in especially for the wedding.

  The other two groomsmen were going to be in that afternoon for their fittings. Jeremiah knew Joseph had wanted to have this taken care of all as a group, but plans had changed since the bombing of the bridal shop. Improvise was the word of the day. He just hoped that
it didn’t end up becoming the word of the entire wedding.

  “So, tell me about the bachelor party,” Joseph said, trying and failing to sound disinterested.

  Jeremiah shook his head. “Nice try, but I’m afraid those plans are top secret.”

  “It’s not going to be anything...you know...inappropriate, is it?” Joseph said, looking slightly worried.

  “I’m a rabbi, how much trouble could I get you into?”

  “A lot,” Joseph said without missing a beat.

  Touché, Jeremiah thought. “I promise, nothing you’d be embarrassed to tell Geanie about.”

  “Good,” Joseph said, looking immeasurably relieved. “I’m trusting you on this.”

  “Is that why you made me best man and not one of your other friends.”

  “No,” Joseph said, a little too quickly. “Okay, the thought had crossed my mind, but to be honest, you and Cindy really are my best friends at this point. And, well, Geanie called dibs on Cindy.”

  “Just as well. I’d look terrible in a dress,” Jeremiah joked.

  “Ah, but I would pay good money to see that and laugh.”

  It was good that Joseph was keeping it together. Given what was happening the man could easily go to pieces and that would help no one, least of all Geanie.

  The tailor jabbed Jeremiah with a pin and he bit back a sharp retort. Instead he cleared his throat and changed the subject. “So, it occurs to me that I’m your best man, and yet there are still things I don’t know about you.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like what you actually do for a living?”

  Joseph laughed. “You’re not the first to have trouble figuring that out.”

  “So, is it a deep, dark secret then?”

  “Quite the opposite, actually. I oversee my investments, although most of the heavy lifting in that regard is done by other people. Same holds true for the companies I own thanks to my family. Most of my time is spent working with different charities, actually.”

  “I see.”

  “You know what the best part about having money is?” Joseph asked.