Deadly Cult Read online

  “Okay, maybe that’s a little different, but not earth-shattering.”

  “And it was addressed to all three of us. Me, you, and Ellen, too.”

  “Okay, that is unusual.”

  They didn’t finish making brunch. They headed out the door, straight for Le Chateau.

  Chapter Four

  Bounding down the apartment stairs, Jamie was surprised that Eddie ran as quickly as he and Ellen did. But once outside, their pace came to an abrupt halt. Sunday services had let out at the church down the block. Parishioners filled the street singing “Hosanna” and carrying palm fronds fashioned into crosses.

  Jamie turned to find an alternative route, but a Sunday school child approached. She gave him her cross and said, “We’re celebrating. Jesus comes back next Sunday!”

  Before he could say thank you, a man ran up to the girl. He glanced at Jamie and then glared at his Loud and Proud T-shirt with disgust written on his face. “Gretchen, how many times have I told you not to talk with strangers?” He took the little girl by her shoulders and whisked her away. But soon that family was replaced with other parishioners blocking the street. They were still singing, still waving their palm branches.

  Jamie felt like he was in another world. “What is this?”

  “It’s Palm Sunday,” Eddie replied. “Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey and people laid palm branches on his path.”

  “Yeah,” Jamie said. “I remember it from Sunday school.” He dropped the girl’s branch and barreled on, glancing back to make sure Ellen and Eddie were following.

  It didn’t take long for them to get to the restaurant. Inside, the halogen work lights were so bright they washed out every color in the room. Chairs were stacked on tables and Tito wielded a mop, making the tiled floor sparkle.

  “Gracias,” Tito said. Then he continued in English, studiously pausing before each word. “Thank you for rushing.” Tito’s voice quivered and he looked horror-struck.

  “Why?” Eddie asked.

  “I was scared without…without…”

  “You were scared shitless?” Eddie suggested.

  “Sí. No shit. The man was creepy.” Tito held out a linen package and Eddie took it. He untied the bundle, holding the contents out so everyone could see. It was a papyrus-like piece of paper, rolled up and stuck inside a school ring.

  A Stratburgh University school ring.

  Eddie slipped out the paper and handed the ring to Jamie, who looked inside the band for an inscription. There was none.

  Eddie read the message and threw the paper onto the bar. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “But what did it say?” Ellen asked.

  Eddie held up the paper and began reading. “‘Dear friends: To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven…A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace. Please, fulfill your purpose.’”

  “That is weird,” Jamie said. “Is it signed?”

  “No. It ends with ‘The Brethren, One Rhodes Plaza, Boston.’ Like I told you, none of it makes any sense.”

  “One thing does, sort of,” Ellen argued. “One Rhodes Plaza is a street address. But if I remember, the Massachusetts office isn’t in Boston. It’s in one of the ’burbs.”

  Jamie started putting the pieces together. “Could the Brethren be a tenant in the Rhodes building?”

  “I doubt it,” Ellen said. “Daddy doesn’t lease out his empty offices. Besides, I’ve never heard of the Brethren. Have you?”

  “Hang on.” Jamie got out his smartphone and did a web search. The results flashed seconds later. “The Brethren doesn’t have their own website, but a lot of other people have written about them.”

  “What do they say?” Ellen asked.

  “Well, according to one site about alternative Christian denominations, the Brethren adheres to a strict interpretation of the Bible. And in order to avoid interacting with the world, they’ve sequestered themselves in the Adirondack Mountains.”

  “They sound like a bunch of nut cases to me,” Eddie said.

  Jamie shrugged. “Let’s see what their wiki page has to say.” He clicked another link. “Get a load of this. ‘Many organizations, including the American Council of Conservative Christians, believe the Brethren to be a cult and not a bona fide religion.’”

  “See?” Eddie pointed to the piece of papyrus. “It’s all a sick joke.”

  Ellen nodded, but Jamie didn’t agree. “This isn’t a joke. Someone’s sending us a message!”

  “How can you think that?” Eddie asked. “If this is a message, it’s from a highly dysfunctional person.”

  “Possibly. But it’s more than a message. It’s a plea.” Jamie picked up the message and read it again. “The note came inside a Stratburgh University class ring, so there’s got to be a connection. All of us graduated from Stratburgh. Do you think this guy sent us his own class ring?”

  “No. We don’t know who owns the ring,” Ellen told him.

  Eddie agreed. “Remember, there isn’t an inscription. Even if it was his ring, we don’t know who he is.”

  “Okay. But how did he know that we could be reached at Le Chateau?”

  “That’s public knowledge,” Eddie said. “Remember the advertisements Chef Bardot placed in those food and travel magazines? In the ad’s picture, I was standing right behind him.”

  How could Jamie forget? The ad was even in Bon Appétit.

  “Eddie’s right,” Ellen said. “The sender could have seen the ad anywhere. And remember, he could be a she.”

  Jamie held up the ring. “Look at the size of this. This is a guy’s ring. And even if Eddie’s workplace was common knowledge, how did the sender know about you and me?” Ellen didn’t answer, so he continued. “Maybe we can find a clue in the address card. Do you recognize the handwriting?” He handed the card to Ellen.

  “Why should I recognize the handwriting?” Ellen looked at it, anyway. Then she handed it back. “Nope. Don’t recognize it. It’s pretty sloppy handwriting, though.”

  Jamie’s eyes grew wide. He grabbed the card and compared it with the writing on the message. He lightly touched each letter. “Whoever wrote this used a fountain pen. Or even a quill. Look at the lettering. The strokes are fat and the ink bleeds all over the paper.”

  Eddie looked at the writing. “Okay. The sender didn’t use a ballpoint pen. What about it?”

  “I’m thinking this guy got indoctrinated by the Brethren, and now he’s begging us to do something. Maybe he wants some kind of intervention.”

  “You’re imagining things,” Eddie cried. “It’s just a crazy letter. And it’s one week before Easter, Jamie. I’m in charge of the restaurant’s brunch, I can’t go on a wild goose chase.”

  Jamie stopped and looked at Eddie. “I’m not asking you to go with me. But it can’t hurt to investigate. It’s not like I have a job anymore. Besides, this will be easy. Ellen goes to Boston to find the Rhodes Petroleum connection while I go to the Brethren’s headquarters in the Adirondacks. If we leave tomorrow, I bet we’d be home in about a week. Are you up for it, Ellen?”

  “Sure. I have midterm break next week.”

  “Perfect. Then you and I will do this.” Jamie looked over at his husband. “Sure you don’t want to come with?”

  “I already told you, I’ve got to work. And by the way, I’m fine being alone on Easter.” Eddie walked out of the restaurant.

  Embarrassed, Jamie looked over at Ellen and shrugged.

  Chapter Five

  Jamie walked with Ellen to his apartment without saying a word. When they got inside, Eddie wasn’t there, but that didn’t surprise Jamie. He’d never seen Eddie get so angry before, or so irrational. Eddie always seemed to understand him and never got mad.

  Until now.

  Jamie’s emotions were a mess, but sitting on the edge of the pull-down, he pretended not to care. He told Ellen, “I guess Eddie just doesn’t understand why this is so important.”

>   Ellen sat next him. “Maybe I don’t understand, either. After all, the letter could be a joke.”

  “It wasn’t a joke, Ellen. Somebody needs our help,” he said. “And it’s obvious that person thinks we’re the only ones who can help him. And if Eddie refuses to come along, we’ll just do it by ourselves.”

  “Okay,” Ellen said. “But may I ask a question?”

  He nodded.

  “Why didn’t that person sign the letter? If he wanted help, he could get it a lot faster if we knew who he was.”

  Jamie didn’t have an answer but was too embarrassed to admit it. “Maybe he couldn’t.”

  “Because he was afraid?”

  “Yeah, that’s possible.”

  “What would he be afraid of, Jamie?”

  He thought a moment, but could only answer with “Maybe he just didn’t want to be identified. There could be lots of reasons why he’s afraid.”

  “Then why did he contact us and not someone better qualified to help?”

  “I don’t have the answers, Ellen. All I know is this is something I have to do. Not only for whoever wrote the note, but for me.”

  “For you, sweetcakes? Why is this so important for you?”

  He didn’t want to answer that question, so his eyes strayed from Ellen. “You and Eddie wouldn’t understand.”

  “What wouldn’t we understand?”

  “What it’s like not to be successful.”

  Ellen took his hand, and he closed his eyes.

  *

  Later that evening, after Ellen left, Eddie finally came home. Jamie was already tucked inside the lumpy bed, but he was far from asleep. “How was work, sweetie?”

  Eddie didn’t say anything, didn’t even look at him. Eddie started getting undressed as if he were alone.

  Jamie pretended everything was normal. “I bet that it wasn’t very busy because everyone is going out for Easter brunch instead.”

  “Maybe,” Eddie mumbled.

  “Personally, I don’t understand Easter’s importance. I mean, compared to Christmas. You get presents at Christmas. Easter is only about candy.”

  “Jamie, please. Be quiet.”

  He looked away. “I’m sorry.”

  “You never understand my needs.”

  “But I try to.”

  “Then why do you continue blasting through every time we have a disagreement?”

  “Blasting through?”

  “Yes, continuing to talk as if my feelings aren’t important enough to consider.”

  “Eddie, I’m sorry. But I don’t know what you’re feeling anymore because you never tell me your feelings.”

  “Okay,” Eddie said. “My job at Le Chateau is important to me. I don’t want to do anything to jeopardize it.”

  “You’re not going to lose your job. You’re too talented.”

  “No. There are hundreds of sous chefs out there just as qualified as I am. What keeps me employed is that I work harder and longer than they do. And now you want me to take time off to go on this mission, which is like hunting armadillos.”

  “What?” Jamie couldn’t understand Eddie at all.

  “Growing up in Laredo, all the hyper-straight jocks bragged about going armadillo hunting.”

  “Okay. But why would anybody hunt armadillos?”

  “That’s my point,” Eddie said. “Nobody eats armadillos anymore. And hunting them isn’t a sport. They shoot them as a joke. Something to brag about.”

  “Do you think I need something to brag about?”

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “But that’s what you meant, so let’s just forget this conversation ever happened, okay?”

  Eddie began massaging Jamie’s shoulders “We can’t.”

  “Why not?” Jamie asked, relaxing his shoulders.

  Eddie gave him a light kiss on the forehead. “Because I asked for time off. I know how important this is to you.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Do you think I’d let you go out in the middle of the wilderness by yourself? Not on your life.”

  Eddie leaned over and kissed Jamie. It wasn’t a passionate kiss, but it was filled with love and understanding. It comforted Jamie. “Thank you, Eddie.”

  “It’s okay. I got six days off, but Bardot wasn’t happy about it. I have to be back at the restaurant for Easter brunch. Or else.”

  Jamie nodded. “I understand. So, when do we leave?”

  Eddie smiled. “As soon as we can rent a car.”

  Chapter Six

  Holy Monday

  Ellen didn’t need to rent a car. When she got the go-ahead from Jamie, she threw clothes and her meds into a backpack and headed for the parking garage. She was in her Porsche Speedster and on the interstate before the sun came out. Being awake at such an ungodly hour, her vision was blurry. But she didn’t care. At least I’ll be in Boston by nine.

  When she reached New Haven, she connected the Speedster’s Bluetooth to her cell phone. She wanted to talk with her father and figured the best way to track him down would be through his secretary. She got voicemail, so she tried Rosalita, the maid at her father’s estate in Westchester. Rosalita said that her father was in Boston for a series of big meetings.

  Talk about luck! Ellen shifted into overdrive. She didn’t want to miss an opportunity to be with her father.

  *

  Jamie and Eddie were the first in line when the Rent-A-Junker office opened. Eddie had to haggle with the guy to get a decent price, but when they got to the car, Jamie wondered if they were still paying too much. Calling it a piece of junk was being kind. It was two-toned, green and rust. But he knew renting a car beat owning one and having to pay for insurance, maintenance, and renting a parking space.

  They threw their duffel bags into the trunk and Eddie drove straight to the Northway. By the time they got to the Catskill Mountains, the fog had turned to a light but constant rain. Jamie watched the scenery zip by. He couldn’t help but remember two years ago and their experience with Stephen Antonelli. He glanced at Eddie, who appeared to be concentrating on the road. Jamie figured Eddie had to be thinking about Antonelli, too. After all, Antonelli was the one who had messed up his leg.

  Jamie wanted that part of their lives to fade away, like a bad dream. He knew, however, that it hadn’t been a nightmare. It was real.

  And Antonelli would always be in their memories, lurking.

  They drove another hundred miles, and the rain turned into icy sleet. “Jesus, just what we need,” Jamie said. “By the time we reach the Adirondacks, it’s going to be snowing.”

  “Well, sit back and relax,” Eddie told him. “We’ve got at least another hundred and fifty miles to go.”

  “That far?” Jamie looked at the GPS on his cell phone. Then he looked out the window and saw the cars ahead of them slow down because of the weather. Some drivers were on the side of the road, waiting for the sleet to clear. “Do you want to pull over and wait for the salt trucks?” he asked.

  “Maybe,” Eddie said. “Of course, once they come out, it’ll just take longer because we won’t be able to get around them.”

  “Well, call me a dick if you want, but I say let’s take our chances and try to pull through it.”

  “Okay, Jamie, you’re a dick. But that’s one of your best body parts.” Eddie smiled and continued on.

  Chapter Seven

  Massachusetts avoided New York’s bad weather, but Ellen got waylaid trying to get to her father nonetheless. She got stuck in traffic because one of the We Are the 99% protests set up camp in the Boston suburb of Dedham, right in front of the Rhodes Petroleum Building. Annoyed at the delay, she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel. It wasn’t the protest against Rhodes Petroleum that bothered her. It was a particular demonstrator carrying an effigy of her father. He screamed that Rhodes was a shyster.

  She felt the flush of shame rise in her. But if Daddy deserves criticism for his business behavior, don’t I warrant disapproval too? He supports
me, after all.

  She slouched into the driver’s seat and drove past the demonstration, parking in the public garage. Afraid the protestors might hassle her for entering the Rhodes building, she hustled through the underground tunnel instead.

  Entering the lobby’s interior made her feel unwelcome. About a dozen video cameras hung on the walls, their red lights flashing. A security guard, most likely an off-duty police officer, checked visitors’ IDs. Ellen didn’t see many visitors, though. Only a couple of businesspeople carrying briefcases. They whispered to each other in the corner.

  Ellen signed in, showing her driver’s license to the rent-a-cop. “I’m here to see my father, Elden Rhodes.”

  The woman peeked at the license. “And your name is Ellen?”

  “Yeah. It is.” She gave the officer a friendly smile.

  “One moment, please.” The rent-a-cop got on the phone, covering her mouth so Ellen couldn’t hear what was being said. Pretty strange behavior, Ellen thought. But she often encountered bizarre conduct when visiting her father at one of his buildings. She figured most employees got nervous at having to deal with the owner’s daughter.

  The security guard hung up the phone and said, “It shouldn’t be long now, miss.”

  Seconds later, a man in a gray suit with a U.S. flag on his lapel appeared out of nowhere. Ellen was surprised to see a tiny Bluetooth headset stuck in his ear.

  Ultra high-tech. The kind of hardware you’d expect the CIA to have. This guy’s definitely not a junior exec.

  “My name is Johnston,” he said, walking up to them. “What seems to be the problem?”

  Ellen spoke first. “I didn’t think there was a problem.”

  The guard said, “She says she’s Elden Rhodes’s daughter.”

  Johnston gave Ellen a once-over, and she had a gnawing feeling something was amiss. She just couldn’t put her finger on what it was. “Is Mr. Rhodes expecting you?” he asked.

  “No. I’m afraid he isn’t,” she answered respectfully. “I was hoping to surprise him.”