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“Have you told the FBI the whole story?”
Eli sent him a look that would have made other men back off. “They asked for my help because I’d investigated Buford before. I told them everything they wanted to know, even the fact that he killed someone I cared about.”
“Eli…”
“What? You think I can’t do this?”
“Hell, Eli. I’ve known you most of my life and there ain’t nothing you can’t do. I don’t think you’re even afraid of the devil.”
“Buford is the devil.”
“That’s what I’m saying. Don’t make this about Ginny.”
When Tuck said her name, Eli turned away and picked up his gun and badge, trying not to think, trying not to remember. But his control weakened and the image of her limp dead body, thrown into a ditch on a Texas country road, flashed through his mind like summer lightning, quick and sharp. He felt the pain for a moment, then it was gone.
But other memories lingered. Jess and Amalie Tucker were Eli and Tuck’s foster parents, good people who took in kids that were in trouble and needed guidance. Tuck had been left with them when he was a baby, Eli at thirteen. It was Eli’s mother, Vera who’d taken him to her uncle Jess, and ex-Texas Ranger. Even though Eli had several encounters with the law, it didn’t take Jess long to adjust Eli’s attitude.
Eli grew up not knowing what a real home or love was about. Vera was a waitress in a bar and worked nights and slept during the day. She’d had assistance from the state for Eli’s day care, but at night he’d been shuffled from neighbor to neighbor or anyone who’d keep him. When he was four, Vera had started taking Eli to work with her and he’d slept in a back room. The smells of cigarettes and booze had filled his lungs, and stale smoke had clung to his clothes. He’d hated those smells. He still did.
But at twelve and thirteen Eli was guzzling down beer like an adult, doing anything to rebel, to get his mother’s attention. He knew she cared about him, but he also knew, even at a young age, that his mother had made some bad choices.
When Eli was a little older his uncle Jess told him a bit more about Vera’s life. Her mother, Adell, was Jess’s sister. She’d married an abusive man who beat her and Vera. In an obvious attempt to escape her home life Vera had dropped out of school at sixteen and married a boy two years older. He’d turned out to be as abusive as her father.
After several trips to the hospital, a counselor got her out of that relationship, and Vera started a new life in Waco, Texas. She didn’t have any job skills, but with the help of several state agencies she’d started working at a day care. The pay was minimal and she could barely live on it. Then she’d met a friend whose brother owned several bars, and she got a job as a waitress.
There she met Joe McCain.
And the abusive cycle went on.
Jess and Amalie—or Ma and Pa, as Eli called them—gave him everything that was missing in his life, and he grew up wanting to be a Texas Ranger, as did Tuck. They both knew they owed everything to Ma and Pa. The couple had adopted Tuck as a baby, and he carried the Tucker name. They’d wanted to adopt Eli, too, but Vera wouldn’t sign the papers. It didn’t matter. Jess and Amalie were his parents in every way that counted, as they were to so many children.
Ginny had been one of them.
The memory of her once again slipped past Eli’s iron control.
She’d come to the Tucker’s when Eli and Tuck were already gone from home. Eli had been accepted as a Texas Ranger and Tuck was working as a trooper for the Department of Public Safety.
Amos Buford had kidnapped Ginny on her way to work. Amos and his followers often begged for money on street corners, and Ginny had stopped and given a donation. One look at her blond beauty and Amos had decided she’d be his next wife—though he already had three.
According to Ginny, Buford had kept her in a dark room for two days with no food. He’d broken her spirit and tried to brainwash her, and when Ginny thought she’d lose her mind, she’d participated in the marriage ceremony.
It was another month before she was able to escape, but by then she was close to a nervous breakdown. She made it to a highway Tuck was patrolling. After she’d told her story to the police, Tuck had taken her to Ma and Pa to heal. Ginny had no family and didn’t have the strength to face her friends.
When Eli first met her, she’d stared at the floor and wouldn’t look at him. Something about her attracted him immediately—as if her tortured soul was reaching out to him. He found himself going home to see her every chance he got, and eventually they started talking and laughing and sharing. Soon they were in love—something Eli had thought would never happen to him.
The police were never able to build a case against Buford because he and his followers denied ever seeing Ginny. And she had no proof of what they’d done to her. It was her word against theirs. Eli had investigated the case in his spare time, but hadn’t found enough evidence to arrest Buford.
Ginny started to heal mentally, and planned on returning to work. They talked about marriage. Eli had never been so happy in his life.
Then he got the phone call… Pa told him Ginny was gone, and that he feared something bad had happened. Eli began an extensive search, and when he found her body, his world came crashing down. He knew Buford had located her and killed her.
Again, Eli couldn’t prove it. But now… “I’ve waited a long time for Buford to make a mistake, and taking a congressman’s daughter is about as big a one as you can get.”
“Still…” Tuck rubbed his hands together as he sat on Eli’s sofa.
Eli watched him and knew exactly what was on his mind. “You’re afraid I’ll kill him.”
Tuck kept looking at his hands. “Something like that.”
“I might want to, but I won’t. I’d have to live with the knowledge that I’d dishonored the memory of the man who loved me more and taught me more than anyone in this world. I live by Pa’s code of honor and I would never kill a man in cold blood. I’m going to get Buford and it’ll all be legal. So stop worrying.” He handed Tuck his gun and badge. “Keep these for me.”
A tap at the door forestalled further conversation.
“That’s the FBI,” Eli said, and went to let them in. Agents Bill Caufield and Tom Mercer shook hands with Eli and Tuck.
“Are you ready?” Bill asked Eli.
“Yeah. Nothing but a couple of dollars and change in my pocket. No ID.”
“Great,” Tom replied. “We appreciate your help—the sheriff said you’re the best. You know all about Buford and you’re familiar with the area.”
“Yeah,” Eli said, refusing to look at Tuck.
“Congressman Whitten and his wife are beside themselves. We spent a full day checking out Buford’s compound and we found no trace of Caroline Whitten.”
“Did you check for secret rooms?”
“Yes. We heard that’s a trademark of Buford’s, but we didn’t find one.” Agent Caufield unfolded a map on the kitchen table. “There are five other men who live there with Buford. Buford now has six wives. Of course, he doesn’t call them his wives to us. They’re ‘women in his family.’ The other men have at least two or three women each, and we’ve counted forty-eight kids. That’s the sad part—it’s a regular commune and we can’t prove a thing. The police have arrested Buford several times on polygamy charges, but he only has one marriage on record and the other women won’t testify against him. So far there’s not a law prohibiting a man from living with several women. But there’s a law against kidnapping. We might have him this time.”
“Why do you think he took Caroline Whitten?” Eli asked.
“She had a lunch date with her parents but didn’t show, and she missed a meeting with an editor. She’s a photographer and does work for a lot of Texas magazines. She never misses an appointment. Congressman Whitten knew something was wrong and called her fiancé, who said the last time he talked to her she had plans to meet her parents.”
“So how does Buford come into this?”
“It took awhile to piece everything together. There was no forced entry, doesn’t look as if anything was taken out of the apartment. Then a neighbor said she saw two bearded men in robes outside the building. Her fiancé, Colin Burke, told us that Ms. Whitten had an encounter with Buford and his followers when she was photographing wildflowers for a magazine spread. He said that they wore long robes and had full beards, and Ms. Whitten had been afraid of them.”
“That’s all you have?”
“That’s it. This is the third day and the only thing left to do is to try and infiltrate the group.”
“Maybe she’s not there.” Tuck spoke for the first time.
Agent Caufield shrugged. “It’s the only lead we have. We checked with all her friends. No one has seen her. We’re getting pressure on this and we have to find her.”
“What’s the plan?” Eli asked.
Tom tapped the map with his forefinger. “This is how the compound is laid out. There are six makeshift houses that have two bedrooms in each—one for the man and his women and the other for his children. That’s what we’re assuming. Then there’s a large eating room and kitchen with a wood burning stove. All the buildings are in a circle. In the center is where they meet and pray, and there’s a big area for a campfire. Everything is very primitive—no running water, no electricity. There’s a spring on the property they use for water.”
He paused, then added, “Our only recourse is to get someone into the group and see what we can find. This is one of the days they beg on street corners. A police car will drop you off in front of them. They’re drawn to those needing a haven, anyone who’s down and out. At this time of year they’re looking for strong men to help work the fields. They earn income from the vegetables they sell. So your job will be to get in there and find out what you can. We need to know where they’re hiding her. Once you do that, we’ll take over. Just get the hell outta there.”
Bill laid a photo on the table. “That’s Caroline Whitten. Take a good look.”
Eli stared at the photo. Light blond hair, shoulder length, in disarray around a very pretty, almost ethereal face… Her eyes were green. Buford favored blond women.
Like Ginny.
The room was silent.
“Ready?” Agent Caufield asked.
“Yes,” Eli answered. He was ready to meet Amos Buford.
He’d waited ten years.
CAROLINE DIDN’T KNOW how long she’d been here. Hours, days, weeks—everything was the same. The woman, Ruth, brought bread and water twice a day. The first and second times Caroline wouldn’t eat or drink. The third time she wasn’t so choosy.
Darkness was total and she felt it creeping into her soul. She’d beaten on the walls until her hands were numb. She’d screamed until her throat was raw. But nothing penetrated the blackness. Nothing eased its grip.
The air was close and dank and the room reeked. At times Caroline had trouble breathing. She had to hold on. The police must be looking for her by now, but how would they know where to find her? Colin. She’d told Colin about the cult and how she was afraid of them. He would remember. He would help her.
Please, Colin, tell my father and the police what I told you.
Colin wasn’t the type of man to go charging in after the woman he loved. Suddenly she needed that—a strong man who didn’t care about anyone or anything but her.
She twisted the ring on her finger. Lately she’d been having second thoughts about her engagement, and she didn’t know why. She loved Colin. They had the same interests—he owned camera stores in Austin, Dallas, San Antonio and Houston. There wasn’t a thing he didn’t know about cameras and photography. He helped her to improve her shots and they spent hours talking about angles and light.
But their intimate relationship wasn’t as satisfying, as it was comfortable. Caroline had given up on finding passion—red-hot passion. That didn’t last forever, anyway. But she loved Colin. And he was someone her father hadn’t picked for her. Was that his big attraction? God, no, this place was making her crazy.
A daughter’s guilt.
Earlier—how long ago?—that thought had made her nervous and angry. Now she saw it for what it was—meaningless pride. Her father wanted to bend her to his will, and she was determined to live her own life. In this black abyss, holding on to her pride seemed an insignificant, even petty, struggle.
She’d gladly trade her pride for the sight of daylight, for fresh air and time with her father. Time to say she was sorry and to…
She couldn’t breathe and she fought the suffocating feeling. Caroline was still in command of herself enough to know that the prophet was trying to brainwash her. Slowly, methodically, the darkness would eat away at her until—
Suddenly the wall opened and he stood there, the faint light like a yellow flame behind him. Caroline closed her eyes against the frightening scene. When she opened them again, Ruth was there with a white robe in her hands.
“I have brought your wedding robe,” the prophet said.
Ruth held it out to her. Caroline got to her feet and took it, then threw it on the dirt and spat on it.
“Blasphemy,” Ruth shouted, and grabbed the robe from the dirt.
“You have spirit,” the prophet said with a sinister smile.
“But that will be broken.”
“You can’t keep me here forever. The police will find me and you’ll spend the rest of your life behind bars.”
“The FBI has already been here and they found nothing.”
“What?”
“If they come back, they won’t find you. At least not the person you used to be. You will be one of us by then and ready to fulfill the prophecy.”
“You’re evil,” Caroline declared between clenched teeth. “I’ll never be your wife. I’d rather die.”
His face hardened. “For your dishonor, you will be deprived of bread and water for a day. Then you’ll learn your place.”
“Never, never, never!” Caroline screamed as he disappeared through the wall and darkness engulfed her once again.
She sank onto the mattress, trying to still her trembling. Fear such as she’d never known before filled her. He was diabolical, out to kill her heart and her soul. Her body would survive, though.
To serve him.
No. No. No.
But the FBI had been here. They hadn’t found her. Oh God. Where was she that even the FBI couldn’t find her? In hell, she thought. And there was no way out of hell. She would die here in the darkness.
Or at least all that mattered would.
INFILTRATING THE CULT was easier than Eli had imagined. The police let him out of the cruiser with a few harsh words in front of Buford’s followers. They immediately came to his aid. He told them he was down on his luck and had nowhere to go. They said they’d let him work for food until he got his head straight, and he could listen to the word of the prophet, who would nourish his soul.
Eli was looking forward to that.
He climbed into the bed of an old pickup and they headed out of Austin to the hills. One man, Nathaniel, sat with him; two women were in the front with Samuel, the other man. No one spoke. They turned off a highway onto a dirt road. When they turned again, it was onto nothing more than a cow trail, and the ride was bumpy and dusty. This area was sparsely populated and there wasn’t a house in sight, just thick woods and brush.
Soon they stopped at a locked gate and Nathaniel got out to open it. Eli noticed the eight-foot-high barbed wire fence and the four-foot-high wire mesh that extended from the bottom up and enclosed the property. It wouldn’t be easy getting out of here.
They drove into an area that had been cleared and buildings stood in a circle, as Tom had said. Eli counted six shacks and a larger structure that had to be the kitchen and eating room. Women and children were working in vegetable fields beyond the compound. They all wore brown robes.
Chickens scratched in the dirt and goats wandered freely. Behind one shack was a rickety barn of sorts. The compound had a strange feel to it—as if it was out of step with time. And there was something else about it he couldn’t quite define.
As the truck pulled to a stop, the smell of smoke drifted to his nostrils. He wrinkled his nose in distaste. This wasn’t cigarette smoke, though. What was it? He didn’t have time to ponder the question as two women, both pregnant, and several toddlers came to meet them. The women stared at the ground and didn’t speak. The children looked at him warily.
“Come this way,” Samuel said, and Eli followed him to the largest of the primitive houses. Samuel tapped on the door.
“Come in, my child,” a male voice called.
They walked in to find a man sitting at a table with a Bible opened in front of him. Two men stood behind him. Eli knew this was Amos Buford, and his heart hammered with anticipation, but he was careful that nothing showed on his face.
“Master, I found a needy soul and brought him to you.”
Buford raised his head, and Eli was unprepared for the emotions that gripped him as he stared into those evil gray eyes.
Tuck was right. Eli wanted to kill him.
