Grounds To Believe

“And this makes them a cult?”

“You tell me. You’re the expert.”

“I will, when I know more. So who else belongs?”

“You’ll love this. The doctor on all these cases.”

Ross’s eyebrows lifted with interest. “Yeah? The pediatrician?”

“Couldn’t find a thing on him. But maybe you can—from the inside.”

Sounded like the logical place to start. “Tell me about the most recent family.” Ross turned a page of his notebook.

“The Blanchard kid is the son of the high-school principal. You should see the wife. What a doll. The sister’s not bad, either, if you like the wholesome type.”

Ross set his teeth and ignored the bait. “How did they come to your attention?”

Everett jerked his chin at the folder. “Ulstad. She’s a nurse at the hospital, and to hear her tell it, these people are knocking off their kids one by one. She used to belong and got kicked out. You’ve got to take her with a grain of salt because she’s got a massive hate on for these people, but her information is worth looking into. Especially with the Blanchard kid. He was the near-miss.”

“How soon can I talk to her?”

“I’ll try to get it set up for this afternoon. After that, you’re on your own as far as finding a way in. Although I have a few suggestions.”

He gave Everett a long look. “Like what?”

“The sister I just mentioned.”

“What about her?”

“She’s single.”

It took a second to sink in. “Are you suggesting I pursue one of the women?” For the first time in his career, he wondered if his obsession was going to take him where he wasn’t willing to go. An angry, uneasy heaviness began to swirl in his stomach as his body recoiled at the thought.

“There’s worse ways to earn a living. Let’s see what we can get on her.” Harry leaned out the door a second time. “Hey, Kurtz! C’mon back in here, would you?”

Jenny Kurtz smiled as she did so, perching on the edge of the desk to be sure that Ross got a good view of her legs. “What’s up?” she asked.

“You’ve lived here all your life, right?” Harry said. “You know the folks in town pretty well.”

“Sure. What do you need to know?”

“Do you know the Blanchards?”

Jenny shrugged. “Madeleine was a couple of years ahead of me in high school. I don’t know her husband. But I graduated with her sister Julia.”

“What can you tell us about her?”

“That stick-in-the-mud?” Jenny looked amused. “What do you want to know about her for?”

“Because she’s connected to this case Investigator Malcolm’s here for. Tell us about her.”

“I don’t see her much anymore, thank goodness.” Jenny giggled with a sudden memory. “She was such a Goody Two-shoes in high school. Some of the boys thought it would be funny to write her phone number up on the bathroom wall—you know, ‘for a good time, call…’ A couple of the crazy ones actually did it. She wouldn’t know what to do with a guy if she had one. She probably tried to save their souls.”

Ross eyed her with distaste. There was nothing quite like the cruelty of the “in” crowd to the outsider, all the more amazing when he reflected that high school for Jenny had been a good many years ago. Some people matured. Some just stayed stuck at seventeen forever. “How do you think she felt about it?” he asked in spite of himself.

She shrugged. “Who knows?” And who cared, from the tone of her voice.

“Do you know where she lives?” Harry asked, bringing them back to the matter at hand.

“No, but she works at that bookshop downtown. Quill and Quinn. I never go in there. They don’t stock anything good.”

“What about her religion?” Ross asked. “Know anything about that?”

“Only enough to know it gives me the creeps,” she said, making a face. “Nothing but black to their ankles and high-maintenance hair. I went once, for a joke, when they had some kind of meeting at the hall downtown, but—”

“Where’s the hall?” Ross interrupted.

“Fourth and Birch, right next to the post office. It’s easy to miss, though. No signs, no cross, no nothing. Boring.”

“Thanks.”

Harry glanced at him and took his cue. “Thanks for your help, Jenny. Shut the door on the way out, would you?”

She slid off the desk. At the door she looked over her shoulder. “Anything else you want to know about old Julia McNeill, you give me a call.” With a toss of her hair, she swiveled around the door and closed it behind her.

“We need to talk about my cover story,” Ross said. “You dragged me in here with the clothes on my back. I’ve got a good pair of jeans and a shirt outside on the bike. At the moment I’m not very convincing convert material.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think they’re too fussy.”

“I don’t want to take the chance. I need an image, and I need a good reason to join.”

“Why do people usually get religion?” Harry waved his hand. “They get in a car accident, they lose a loved one. Take your pick. Have a revelation on me.”

They lose a loved one. He’d gotten a revelation over that, all right. The law made a great weapon, even if he sometimes felt he was fighting alone, spurred on by his fear and his memories. He’d find Kailey some day. One assignment at a time. One prayer at a time.

First, the persona—a grieving husband escaping his loss. Talk to the informant. Then, track down Miss Goody Two-shoes.

Chapter Two

The woman had called herself Miriam for so many years that she’d pretty much forgotten her real name. The only entity her real name mattered to was the government, and she didn’t have anything to do with them.

Or hadn’t, anyway. Until now.

She looked at the child sleeping on the orange plastic bench at the bus depot and sighed. She’d signed up to do the right thing, so she had to go through with it. Moses had told her where they were going after they’d buried Annie, and she’d just have to meet them there when she was done.

Minus the child.

She picked up the pay phone’s receiver and dialed Information.