Shadow of Death, page 11
“I’m sure he does, but he isn’t infallible, none of us are,” Amy told her. “But there are cameras in the club, right?”
“Everywhere!” Magda assured her. “Oh, my God, I still can’t believe what they intended to do, what they would have done... They were going to cut my heart out! I’m a stripper given drugs—and they didn’t even want sex. They wanted to kill me and drink my blood. Oh, my God, it’s the most horrible thing imaginable. Why? Who would be so sick?” She leaned her head back, talking again with barely a breath. “The same people... I’ve seen it on the news. The monsters who wanted people to starve to death and die in the mud in pits, and what has happened to this world? So, so sick! They kept saying they were saving me—saving me! By cutting my heart out! How could anyone believe such a thing?”
“I don’t know,” Amy told her softly. “But I’ve heard if you’re told a lie often enough, that lie becomes not the truth, but a truth you can come to believe. However, it doesn’t matter, Amy. What was done to you was horrible, what was done to others was horrible, and we will get to the truth. That’s why I need you to tell me everything, everything you remember. Small details can mean something, Magda. We will get the security tapes from the club, but do you remember anyone paying particular attention to you? Can you go through the time from when you finished work until you were snatched up and tell me everything, every little thing you remember?”
“I... Yeah. Sure, yes, of course, I will do anything I can to help you.”
“Okay. Was there anyone there that night paying you special attention?”
Magda managed a soft laugh. “Special Agent Larson, I get lots of special attention when I’m on a pole.”
“There would be a difference in this—someone who wasn’t trying to hit on you, per se, but rather watching you—when you weren’t on a pole.”
Magda frowned, leaning back, thinking. She shook her head. “Not that I noticed.”
“Okay, so then you dressed in the dressing room. Was anyone—”
“Only the dancers are allowed in the dressing rooms so, no.”
“Okay, then you went to the bar and Vinnie poured you a soda.”
“I had a few sips and I played a game on my cell phone. Then I stepped away to call Allison, but she had been calling me at the same time. Anyway...there was a game on the television over the bar.” Magda shrugged with a wry grimace. “Guys were shouting at the television screen. I wanted to make sure I could hear her.”
“Were any of the men at the bar trying to make conversation with you? Were they near you?”
“They were near me. Men gave me compliments, said hello, offered to buy me drinks, but honestly, they all seemed far more interested in the football game than anything else. After I talked to Allison, I went back to the bar for my drink, then I headed out to the street right away. I was suddenly so tired I could barely stand it. I was afraid I was getting something because I had no energy at all. I just wanted to get to my car—and get home. I was just a block down—heading to the cheaper garage where I keep my car—when there was suddenly someone behind me and... I couldn’t fight. I couldn’t even scream. He picked me up and threw me in the back of a van. I don’t remember anything after that...anything until I heard people talking. And I thought I was dreaming because I couldn’t open my eyes but they were talking about my sins, saving my soul, some whacked out stuff about a black horse and scales of justice, and how they would consume my heart, my blood, my flesh—and my sins.”
“Magda, think hard. Was the man who plucked you off the street ever in the club?” Amy asked her.
Magda shook her head and almost smiled. “I didn’t see much of his face. Every criminal out there must know you have to have a mask and a hoodie. I don’t know. I don’t remember what I saw of him. I don’t remember anything at all.”
“Not true. Was he white, black, Asian, Native American, Hispanic? Did he speak at all? Did he have an accent? Or maybe a scent?”
Magda frowned. “Okay. I just saw his eyes. He had green eyes. Strange green eyes.”
“Was he the same man as the priest who was going to kill you?”
“I don’t...know. The priest—or whatever—was a guy they called Mateus. And no, he had blue eyes. I never heard him speak, so I don’t know if he had an accent. I think he was white. Oh!”
“Oh?”
“I do remember something!” she said excitedly.
“And what is that?”
“He smelled like that new stuff—there’s an up-and-coming designer who has a sports clothing line out—an aftershave, lotion, and men’s cologne. I know the scent because Vinnie got a bottle from his girlfriend and it’s really nice stuff. Yes! He smelled just like Vinnie. Oh!” She stopped speaking, staring at Amy again. “But he wasn’t Vinnie—not to worry. I mean, there is no way, and I didn’t mean to imply that. Vinnie has dark brown eyes and he’s a cool looking guy with a really mixed ethnicity—his skin is dark and his eyes are brown and it would have been almost impossible for him to have left the bar, gotten a hoodie and a van, and... Vinnie is the best guy in the world.”
“Okay, thank you. We will talk to Vinnie, of course—bearing in mind he’s the best guy in the world. He might have seen something you didn’t,” Amy explained quickly. “And you knowing that scent might prove to be important, so thank you for that, too.” Amy hesitated. “Is there anything else, anything at all that you can remember?”
Magda was thoughtful but then shook her head. She looked at Amy. “Thank you! Thank you so much for saving my life!”
“Thank you so much for being so strong and making it!” Amy told her, placing one of her cards on the bedside table. “If you think of anything—if you need anything, anything at all—call me. And don’t be afraid to get some rest. We’re going to have a guard outside your room.”
“Thank you,” Magda whispered again.
“You just get well.”
“I will. And...well, thank you for...for thinking my life was worth saving. I mean, to some people, maybe I would be a horrible person. A stripper. But let me tell you. I work with people who tip in restaurants, who are kind, who give to others... Strippers aren’t evil, no matter what those crazy people think!”
“Magda, please, don’t worry. None of us think badly of you. We just want to catch the people who are doing this.”
Amy smiled and managed to leave at last, but she hesitated in the hall, not seeing an officer or agent to watch over the room. Then her phone rang and she answered it quickly. Andy Mason was on the line.
“Amy, everything moving along all right with the young woman?”
“Hi, Andy, she’s going to be all right other than the trauma. We need to get to the club where she was working and have agents get their hands on the security tapes. She went to the bar for a soda before she headed out, and that soda was apparently spiked when she walked away from the bar for a minute to take a phone call. Also, she helped as far as whoever picked her up was white and had green eyes. She recognized his scent—a new designer scent—because the bartender uses it, but the bartender was not the guy who snatched her off the street.”
“Still might have been involved.”
“Hell, Andy, half the country could be involved in this. I haven’t spoken to Hunter yet. How did it go on the cliffs?”
“Well, you and Hunter both fired your weapons today in fatal confrontations. You can speak with the shrink one session after the other, though, of course, both were good shootings, shootings that saved the lives of the innocent. But while you’re at the hospital, a woman was shot trying to protect her kid when he was threatened. We’ve—”
“Hunter shot a woman who was trying to protect her child?” Amy interrupted incredulously.
“No, Hunter shot the man who shot the woman. My point is the woman—Peggy Johnston—is at the hospital where you are now. From what I understand, she’s a total basket case. Apparently, the entire group there was a cult convinced that the Apocalypse is coming—and that the only way to save sinners is to drink their blood or eat their flesh to help take the sins from them. The black horse’s rider carries the scales, and those who help cleanse others of their sins will be blessed in Heaven. Anyway, we’ve got the father under arrest, and Hunter is coming in with the boy. A friend of mine from children’s services is on the way. A good woman. This is a kid who is going to need help.”
“I can imagine,” Amy murmured softly.
“Before you leave—”
“Right. There is supposed to be an agent here watching over Magda.”
“Odin Thompson. On his way. He just texted he’s reached the hospital, and he’ll be tagged later by second shift. Amy, don’t worry. She won’t be left unprotected. But once Odin arrives, I want you to check with the doctor and find out how the woman who was shot on the cliffs is doing. It would be nice to tell the kid that even if his mother is a totally delusional nutcase, she’s alive and healing.”
“What will happen with these people, Andy? Can this be real? Can people really believe this?”
“Do all of them believe it? I’m thinking not. For some, it’s a plan, part of an agenda we’re not seeing yet. But we’ve seen it time and again. People can be convinced to believe just about anything.”
“You’re right,” Amy murmured. “I’ll see the doctor. I believe I already know her.”
As she spoke, she saw a tall squarely muscled man in a dark blue suit coming her way.
“Does Odin appear as powerful as a Sherman tank?” she asked Andy softly.
On the other end of the line, Andy laughed.
“Yeah. That’s Odin.”
“He’s here—I’m off to find the doctor.”
“Excellent. One of Crandon’s men headed after the ambulance with Brian’s mom, and he’ll stay there until a second shift arrives. I just want you to talk to whoever is treating her, find out just how serious her condition is.”
“Got it. I’m on my way. Sherman tank is approaching me!” she told him.
Andy laughed and ended the call. Amy quickly stepped toward Odin and offered him her hand.
“Amy Larson?” the man asked.
She smiled and nodded. “Odin.”
In turn, he smiled and nodded. Then his expression grew grim. “Don’t worry. I’ll see to it that no one unauthorized comes anywhere near her. This case...” He broke off, shaking his head. “People who are so brainwashed—who think they have the right to judge others—anyway, sorry! I will seriously be guarding this young woman with my life.”
Amy smiled. “I get you!” she assured him. “Thank you.”
She hurried to the nurse’s station and discovered Peggy Johnston was just being transferred from the ER up to a room. Dr. Barton was still with her.
Amy hurried to the appropriate room, then waited by the door for a minute. The doctor was giving instructions to the nurse. She turned and saw Amy and gave her a grim smile. Excusing herself to the nurse, she walked out to speak with Amy.
“I thought she was going to need surgery, but it was a through and through. No vital organs damaged. The bullet didn’t even damage her bones, though she’ll be wearing a cast for a while. But barring the unexpected serious infection, she will be fine.”
“Thank you,” Amy said. “Is she sedated?”
Dr. Barton shook her head. “You may have ten minutes if you wish.”
Amy hadn’t expected to be able to speak with the woman, but she wasn’t going to miss the opportunity. She thanked Dr. Barton and approached the bed.
She wondered what she would find—defiance? The desperate determination the cult on the cliff had been right in wanting to punish the wicked—and thus save their immortal souls?
But the woman’s face was damp with tears as Amy approached the bed. She looked at Amy with wide eyes, unsure of who she was, and yet in such a state it might not have mattered.
“He—he—was going to shoot Brian! My son, my innocent son,” she said incredulously. “And that man...on the cliff. He stopped him. I don’t—I can’t—how can it be truthful we need to drink the blood of sinners to save their lives—but then turn around and try to take the life of an innocent child? Brian is...a kid. Not sinless. But that’s ridiculous, really. None of us is...sinless. But we didn’t all dance mostly naked to seduce others, we didn’t lie or cheat, and we weren’t supposed to be witnessing a murder. We were supposed to be saving souls because... Well, I mean, I believe it is coming, the Apocalypse is coming. I mean...the pandemic, people so hateful... It’s easy to see the end must be near, but now I don’t even know about that! Brother Martin was going to shoot Brian—he did shoot me!”
The woman was in her late twenties or early thirties with long brown hair now a tangle beneath her head. She wore no makeup but had a well-proportioned face and enormous dark eyes, glistening with tears now as she looked at Amy—frowning suddenly as if determining who she might be.
“It’s all right,” Amy said quietly, setting a hand gently on the woman’s lower arm. “My name is Amy Larson. I’m working with the FBI. And I want to first assure you, your son, Brian, is fine.”
“And Bret? My husband?” she asked.
“He’s fine.” Amy hesitated. “Mrs. Johnston, I’m sorry to say this because I don’t think you believe what you were doing was horrendously wrong, but your husband is under arrest as you will be when you leave the hospital.”
“Under arrest?” she repeated blankly. “But—”
“Accessory to attempted murder,” Amy said quietly.
“I thought we were saving her soul!” Peggy whispered. “But they were going to shoot Brian! He is good, and how do you shoot someone good? I mean, I understood many authorities may not have read the Bible. They might not have understood... Oh, God.” She started to sob softly. “That the innocent would always be spared was a lie, so all the rest was a lie. We were going to watch Mateus kill that woman, and we were going to drink her blood, but if the one thing was a horrible lie, then...”
“We will get it all sorted out,” Amy said. “But don’t worry about Brian—”
“Call my sister. Please, call my sister, Violet. She loves Brian and he loves her. And I think she hates me now, but she won’t hate Brian because...”
Peggy Johnston broke off and stared at Amy as if she’d suddenly been hit in the face with bucket of ice water.
“Because I was an idiot!” she said firmly. “Tell Violet...please, please, tell her how sorry I am! Beg that she watch over Brian. Whatever comes my way, I might deserve. But...” She paused again, closed her eyes, and sighed. “They told us we needed to bring Brian. They said he needed to learn now, because the end was coming quickly, and he had to know we were all responsible for others. We were our brothers’ keepers. He didn’t have much time to become a strong soul, because the end was near, and we had to be ready to rise to the greatness of Heaven. The fourth horseman would ride, and when he did, we all needed to be prepared. I think... I think it was just that the last few years... Well, it was easy to believe the end was coming with so much violence and hatred all around us!” She suddenly clutched Amy’s arm. “You will call Violet, please?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” Amy assured her. “Mrs. Johnston—”
“Peggy, please.”
“Peggy, how and where did you meet Mateus and the man who shot you, Brother Martin? How did you become part of their cult?”
“Cult? No, no, they’re just a nondenominational group. Oh. I am an idiot. They were...are, no, he’s dead. Mateus is dead. I saw him shot before he could lower the knife. Dead center in the chest. Mateus found us at a church fair. He played games with Brian...you know, knocking bottles off shelves and the like. Then we went to lunch, and we found out he was an ordained minister, and he seemed so good and so sure. We met others. They all admired him so much. We started attending his church...”
“Peggy, where is his church?” Amy asked.
“Oh, well, right there. Right on the cliffs. That’s where we always met. It was beautiful. We were surrounded by God’s beautiful creation, nature. And Mateus reminded us a church was wherever we met in His name. I mean, that’s true, right? But then...he pointed out all the signs. He told us we needed to prepare and... We were such idiots, but when I look back, it started out as...”
“Peggy, I believe you mean you thought you had joined with something good where it was important for you to be kind to your fellow man. You would be bringing Brian into a fold where he could grow, knowing that being a decent human being was the greatest thing asked of us,” Amy said gently. “But let me make sure I’m understanding this. You were at a fair put on by your regular church, and he found you there?”
She nodded. “And he befriended us. And when we met others... Well, they all spoke about how wonderful he had been when meeting them, and how he seemed to be an example of the love he was teaching us to show others.”
“What about Brother Martin—the man who shot you?” Amy asked.
She shook her head. “He assisted Mateus sometimes. He would hold open a book and light candles. We used the rock where...where he intended to cleanse that young woman of her sins...as an altar. We would sing sometimes, and it was beautiful. Then he told us we must grow serious—and if we truly loved our fellow man, we would have to do painful things. We would have to absorb some of their sin so they could rise with us.”
“Do you know anything more about Mateus and Martin? Last names?” Amy asked hopefully. Of course, if Hunter had shot Martin to stop him from killing someone else, they would have his body. That meant dental impressions and fingerprints, and they might find out about his identity and his associates from that.
