Chapter 42: Spring Break

Even though their options were vastly different from most of their peers, the girls had a tough time deciding what to do for Spring Break. Amber really wanted to get in some face time with all of her friends – specifically me, Christine, and Allison – a plan that appealed to all of us, but was impossible unless we all went to Hawaii. Unfortunately – after ditching them for Christmas – she had promised her parents that, if she could afford it, she would be home for Spring Break, and it would have been really hard to explain being able to afford two weeks in Hawaii but not a trip home.

That actually made it easier for the rest of us as well. With Allison still in school; Amber with her parents, Bastion behind bars, and Phoebe staying with Spencer pending the finalization of all her paperwork; Lizzy and I decided it would be a good time for me to get to know my future in-laws. The trip to Hawaii would have allowed us to introduce her to my parents, but since I hadn't even broken the news of my engagement to them, I was kind of glad that it hadn't worked out.

The Yosemite Valley is an incredible sight any time, but this Spring – following a mild winter, and therefore blooming early – it was nothing short of spectacular. It's a different kind of beauty, but, even in the dead of winter, it is ... awesome to behold. I don't know this experientially; I'm just repeating what Lizzy told me. Even though I had lived in California most of my life, I'd never actually been there before. Our family had been camping a couple times when Allison and I were little – mainly in and around the local mountains – and I knew my way around a campsite, but it was nothing like this. It didn't take long to figure out how it had been picked to be the country's first National Park. Lizzy's sister, Molly, was way jealous that we were going without her, but she was stuck at home being tutored to make up for her poor performance in Algebra, and Betty was staying home to keep an eye on her.

The change in Duke Street, when we stepped out into the semi-wilderness of Yosemite, was striking. He was like a different man; still strong and confident, but there was an ... alertness ... about him, as if he knew where every living thing for a mile in every direction was, and what it was doing. I don't think a mouse could have made it through camp without him knowing it. I mentioned it to Lizzy to see if it was just my impression – apparently it wasn't.

"He's always like this the first day," she said. "Something about the woods that pushes the 'Ranger' button in his head. I guess it's because it's so much like the jungle. He'll be fine by tomorrow."

He rigged up a really cool suspension system that held our beds about fifteen feet in the air, and, about an hour after we turned in, he sent us a text message to be very quiet, but to look down. There, below us, was a mother black bear with two cubs, rooting through the bushes. As we watched, one of the cubs pulled out a package of marshmallows that Duke had hidden in the underbrush, and the fun started. Within seconds, the cubs were wrestling for the sticky sweets and, before you knew it, they were covered in white goo. It was hysterical to watch and almost impossible to not laugh out loud at.

When we got up the next morning, Duke was already awake, sipping a cup of coffee and watching the world wake up.

"Good morning, daddy," Lizzy said, as she hugged his arm and snuggled into his side. "Thanks for last night; that was fun."

"You're welcome, sweetie," he said, kissing the top of her head before pulling a second cup out of the backpack next to him. "Coffee?"

"Duh!" she said.

"How about you, David?"

"No thank you," I answered. "Never acquired a taste for the stuff."

"You're not one of those tea people are you?" he asked.

"Only on social occasions," I said, "and even then I prefer green teas."

"Don't know what you're missing," he said. "I don't know what it is, but there's something about sipping a fresh cup of hot coffee in the morning that just seems to start the day out right."

I gave an understanding "Hmmm", before saying, "I know what you mean. It's called a caffeine addiction, and I'll stick to a five mile run and a glass of orange juice."

"You're a sick young man, David. I can't imagine what Easy sees in you."

"Me either," I said with a smile. "All I can say is, 'thank God love is blind.'"

"Amen!" he agreed, toasting me with his cup.

Lizzy just sat quietly, smiling and drinking her coffee through the whole exchange. We hiked into the upper park to see Yosemite falls, spending the second night close enough to hear the roar but far enough away and upwind so that the spray couldn't reach us. Still, just the proximity of that much rushing water brought the temperature down several degrees, and I was glad I had Lizzy to keep me warm. I promised myself, and Lizzy, that we'd make time to do things like this more often. Walter stopped by the next day and spent most of the time exploring the park – invisibly of course – by our sides. We were careful not to stare or speak out loud so as not to attract attention and make Duke wonder at our sanity. If we needed to speak to him, he merged with me; otherwise he spent most of his time padding through the surrounding brush.

"This is truly a grand place, my Lord," he said. "With such beauty available, I have to question why you spend your life surrounded by concrete and pavement."

"That is a question man has struggled with most of his existence, Walter," Lizzy said. "It is beautiful, but, for most people, there is not enough challenge here to hold them. Don't get me wrong, it's very hard to actually 'live' out here, but it's a boring sort of life, with so much of your time spent just struggling to exist ... Most people prefer a life that challenges the mind more, saving places like this for recreational enjoyment. And, while one day it might be nice to spend more time in places like this, right now, Jimmy's work requires him to be elsewhere."

"Sad but true," I said, "and I would like to spend more time in places like this, but, for now, I'll have to be content with the odd vacation."

Had I known what was going on in Vegas at the time, I would have been much less content with the timing of this particular vacation.

Sandra

While I had secretly hoped he was just desperate, I was fully prepared for Wallace to be pulling my chain for the fun of it. What I wasn't prepared for, was the truth.

"Alright," I said, calmly, once we were behind closed doors. I must say the sight of him sitting at the table in his orange jumpsuit, shackled at both ankles and one wrist to the heavy chair they had provided, almost made the trip worthwhile, regardless. The chair itself was as far from the door as the room allowed. They hadn't wanted to even leave the one hand free, but he had indicated we might be here for a while, and, unless I wanted to hold his water for him... , and the guard was armed, after all. "We're here, just you and me, no recorders, and only the one guard. What's this all about?"

"I told you" he said, "it's about the truth."

"And why exactly should I trust you to tell the truth about anything?" I asked.

"I will leave it up to you to decide, after you've heard what I have to say. It's safe to say you know more about what's been going on here than the locals?"

"That depends on which part you're talking about," I answered. "If you're referring to the events leading to your arrest, then no; I don't have any additional information. If you're talking about your ... let's call them, extra-curricular activities ... then yes, I know more than they do, but nowhere near as much as I would like to."

He had been watching the guard – who was standing just inside the door – ever since we walked in. He raised his voice slightly and said, "You may as well sit down, officer; we're going to be here a while; I don't expect you to take my word for it, but I have no intention of trying to escape. Also, you look like you're in pretty good shape, so you could probably reach me before I managed to get free. Even if I did, I'm pretty sure you could take me."

The guard ignored him but looked at me and said, "Ma'am?"

"You can relax, officer; I don't think he asked me all the way here from Washington just to attack me."

"Thank you ma'am," he said, taking a seat and pulling out what looked like a portable game of some kind.

I turned back to Bastion and said, "You were saying?"

"You know about the recent series of accidents?"

"You don't believe they were accidents?"

"No more than you do," he said. "I'm certain you've checked the statistics for the greater Las Vegas area and seen that we are up slightly in deaths per capita. While the increase does not exactly match the recent figures, it is close enough to be questioned. I'm also quite sure you've had someone run the numbers on the odds of so many people from one church dying suddenly in random accidents?" It wasn't a question, and he didn't wait for an answer. "They were murdered."

"You have proof?" I asked. This was getting interesting very quickly.

"Of course not, the way it was done wouldn't leave any physical evidence; there is one possibility, but it may already be too late to find it. You'll have to ask the medical examiner. You have of course considered the possibility of, shall we say, professional involvement."

"My, you really are being direct here, aren't you?" I asked. This was definitely not what I had expected.

"There is little point in being evasive at this point," he said. "You have – quite literally – a smoking gun."

"Then why bother?"

"Two reasons," he said. "Mostly revenge; I want you to find the person who did this."

"Did what?" I asked. "So far we have a string of accidents that – while I will admit they defy all statistical probability – have all been investigated and verified to be exactly what they seem."

"Come Sandra, you don't believe that any more than I do. I would like to see justice for my people, but, more than that, I want him caught for doing this to me."

"You're saying you were set up?" I asked. "You must be kidding."

"No, I'm quite serious, but you'll have to hear the whole story before you understand why I say that. I'll get into the how later; let's start with the why. You know about the girls?"

"Do I know about the girls? Nothing concrete, or I'd have had your ass ages ago, but I have a pretty good idea what you've been up to."

"How many do you know about? Adults, too."

"Perhaps a dozen all together."

"Then you knew nothing," he said, smiling and shaking his head. "Would you be surprised to know that every single one of the people – from the church that is – that died recently was involved?"

Surprised didn't begin to cover it.

"You can't be serious?"

"Oh, but I am. What did your statisticians say about the odds of each and every one of those accident victims leaving behind one or more children – all female – and what are the chances that in all of those accidents, not a single one of the children was with them when they died?"

Good lord! He was serious! This certainly changed things. For one thing, we had no idea that many people could possibly be involved in a situation like this. That made the sample group even smaller; we were no longer dealing with members of the same church, but members of a much smaller group within the church. The addition of the daughters ... no way this was random chance! We had had our suspicions before, the leading candidate being Hampton and Malcolm's mysterious source, but so far we hadn't had any luck at all in identifying who he was or whom he was working for. The idea that he may be a freelancer was tossed out almost as fast as it came up. Why would a freelancer even get involved? Freelance talent was in it for one thing and one thing only: the money, and there wasn't any here to be had. There was one very surprising conclusion the tech people had drawn, but...

"I see the shock on your face, Sandra; this pushes your numbers well past the wildest of probability. So let's see just how far out you're willing to stretch. How surprised were you to discover that all of those people had recently – within the past few months, in fact – laid the groundwork for another family to adopt their children if something should happen to them?"

By changing the subject, he was purposely handing me time to think about this, why?

"We were surprised," I admitted. "Personally, I was more surprised to hear them cite you as the reason. Apparently, one of your sermons moved them to consider what most people never do; the what-ifs of life."

"Yes, I know; a brilliant move, to use something like that to cover his tracks."

"Cover whose tracks?" I asked.

"I'll get to that later; I'm not through with the current discussion yet. There are more; they weren't all killed."

"More?" I said, shock and alarm clear in my voice. Christ! How big was this? "Do you think they're at risk as well?"

"No, they were meant to survive."

"That makes no sense," I said. "If someone was killing all of the people involved, why would they stop?"

"Two reasons: First, these people are different; they weren't voluntary participants; and second..."

I held up my hand to stop him.

"Wait, what do you mean they weren't 'voluntary participants'?"

"They were being coerced."

"Coerced?" I said. "Right, they were being coerced into molesting underage girls."

"Yes," he said, and there was that ... feel to his voice that suggested that no matter how far-fetched it may sound, he was telling the absolute truth.

"How?"

"I won't go into all the specifics, but primarily through a combination of blackmail and intimidation."

"Really?" I said, the sarcasm coming through just as well as the alarm had moments before. "By whom?"

"Don't be naïve, Sandra, by me, of course. Who else do you know that could have pulled it off?"

"No one," I admitted. "No one including you! There is no possible way you could have kept this many people under such strict control."

"Not as far as you know," he pointed out. "Obviously I had help, but that was only part of it. The rest I'm afraid you'll have to wait to find out. Besides, how else would I know about it unless I was behind it? Now, do you want to hear the rest or not?"

"Oh, I'd love to hear the rest; by all means, continue. You said there were two reasons."

"Yes, he needed a safe place for the girls to go after their parents were dead."

Of all the...

He held up his free hand to forestall the objection he saw coming.

"Hear me out; I will admit that this part is conjecture on my part, but I have had considerable time to think about all this recently, and, based on what little I know about him – which is not much – I think it all fits."

"He? You keep saying, 'he'. Are you suggesting that all of this was done by one man?"

"A boy, actually, I doubt if he's even old enough to vote, and he's not working completely alone, there are two girls – roughly the same age – helping him, but there is nothing to suggest that they are more than helpers, barely more than window dressing; he is the only one that matters."

"You seem to know quite a bit about him? Who is he?"

"I know very little: he's young; he's very intelligent; he's very careful; and he is probably the most dangerous person you will ever encounter."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because he – working alone – managed to do what no one else could; think about it Sandra, even you – with all the resources at your disposal, and with all the time and energy you've put into catching me – had barely scratched the surface of my little world. He managed to learn everything, and destroy it, all in a single year. I can't say for sure how long he has known what was going on, but I first became aware of him last March. You're the expert here, Sandra; given what you know about all this, how good would you have to be to do all this? Infiltrate an organization this secretive; discover who everyone was; sort out the good guys from the bad – based solely on whether their participation was voluntary or coerced, and how could you be sure? – make arrangements for the children; and then kill all the bad guys without leaving a single clue that you were ever there?"

No one was this good.

"Christian, you have lost your mind," I said. "Do you have any idea how ridiculous this all sounds?"

"Yes," he said calmly, "I do. But what if I'm right?"

"You're not right," I said, shaking my head. "It's simply not possible."

Good God! Could he really be that good?

"It is possible," he insisted. "Write this down..."

He rattled off an elaborate string of numbers, letters, and symbols, correcting me twice when I wrote a character incorrectly.

"That is one of the passwords to the server they took from my apartment. I'm sure they told you about the video cameras ... Several of the files contain the information that was used to blackmail the surviving members of our jolly little band, along with ... other activities over the years. I'll warn you, the punishment sessions may be hard to take, but they served their purpose: the girls would do almost anything to not have a starring role in one, so would their parents. Do you know about Autumn?"

This was a surprise.

"The girl you sold to the... ?"

He held up his hand to stop me.

"Please, don't go there."

He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. When he opened them again ... I didn't think it was possible...

"I couldn't bear to kill her, but I couldn't let her continue to defy me. After Amanda died, she became unmanageable, saying that, if they were supposed to be our slaves, then it was our job to protect them from outsiders, and, if we couldn't, then..."

Oh my god! He didn't seriously expect me to believe he loved her?

"Look at the files; you'll see that I have told you the truth."

"You know that the DA is going to want to be there," I said, "and once he sees it, he's going to want to press additional charges."

As chuckles go it was a good one; starting with his head forward and his body shaking slightly, ending with his head back and grinning broadly before he stopped and said, "I'm facing twelve counts of first degree murder, with possible special circumstances of lying in wait. There is nothing in those files that can get me in any worse trouble."

"Is that why you want the DA to see it?"