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Missing In Blue Mesa. Cindi MyersЧитать онлайн книгу.

Missing In Blue Mesa - Cindi Myers


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the coffee, then collected a towel, soap and shampoo, and picked up Hunter. “Let’s go take a shower, buddy,” she said, bouncing him on her hip. He giggled, dimples forming on either side of his mouth. Smiling in return, she headed toward the shower shack.

      She had just turned onto the path to the shower when Daniel Metwater stepped out in front of her. She stumbled to a halt, heart racing, searching for a way out. But the woods grew close to the path on either side and Metwater blocked the way forward. She could turn and run, but he might be able to catch her.

      She stood, frozen, as he approached and put a hand on her shoulder. “I heard you had a bad fall,” he said, gaze focused on her bruises. “Are you all right?”

      The absurdity of his words, and the false concern in his voice, shocked her out of her fear. She stumbled back, wrenching away from him. “No, I am not all right.” She checked to make sure no one was close enough to overhear them. “And I didn’t fall. You and I both know it.”

      “As long as no one else knows.” He wrapped his hand around Hunter’s arm. Now if she tried to pull away, the baby would be hurt. “I meant what I told you,” he said. “If you want Hunter to stay safe, you won’t say a word about this—or about that locket—to anyone.”

      She wanted to spit in his face—to tell him that she was going to expose his brother as a murderer and him as a fraud. But she couldn’t do that. She had to protect her son, and find a way to keep them both safe until she could get the proof she needed. “I know how to keep my mouth shut,” she said. “I haven’t told anyone about what I know, and I’ve been here for months.”

      “Make sure you don’t.”

      She left, wanting to run but forcing herself to walk. She could feel his gaze boring into her back all the way to the shower shack, and when she reached the shack and glanced back, he was still watching, the hatred in his expression making her tremble all the way to her toes.

      * * *

      SUNSHINE HARTFORD VIBRATED like a terrified rabbit. Her left leg bounced and her upper lip twitched as she stared, wide-eyed, at the trio of officers gathered around her at Ranger Brigade Headquarters. Ethan and Agent Carmen Redhorse had picked her up at her apartment in Montrose and brought her in for questioning, thinking if they could rattle her a little she would be more likely to confess the truth.

      But Ethan hadn’t intended to frighten her so badly she couldn’t speak. “You don’t have anything to worry about, Miss Hartford,” he tried to reassure her. “You haven’t done anything wrong. We only want your help in drawing a clear picture of what happened last night at Daniel Metwater’s motor home.”

      “A woman was injured.” Carmen leaned toward the young woman, her voice soft but firm. “You can help us find who hurt her.”

      “I... I was with the Prophet,” she stammered. “You saw me there.”

      “How long had you been with him?” Ethan asked.

      “He told you. We had been there an hour.”

      “Yes, that’s what he told us, but that can’t be right, can it?” Ethan tried to keep his tone conversational, nonaccusatory. “Was the bonfire even over that long?”

      She squirmed like a kid who had to go to the bathroom. “I didn’t have a watch with me.”

      “Did you hear or see anyone else in the motor home while you were there?” Ethan asked. “Maybe someone in another room?”

      She shook her head. “No. When you’re with the Prophet, it’s as if no one else is around.”

      Out of view of Sunshine, Carmen rolled her eyes. “Did he say anything to you about anyone else?” Ethan asked. “Did he mention anyone by name?”

      “He said if I saw Asteria, I had to pretend I hadn’t been with him,” she said.

      “And you were okay with that?” Carmen asked. “Lying to another woman?”

      “It wouldn’t be lying, exactly,” Sunshine said. “And I would be obeying the Prophet. You can’t be a good disciple if you aren’t obedient.”

      A classic manipulator’s line, Ethan thought.

      “Did you know that lying to the police is against the law?” Ethan asked.

      “The Prophet answers to the highest law. I’m sure he wouldn’t ask me to do anything harmful.”

      “So you admit you’re lying,” Ethan said.

      Her expression clouded. “I haven’t seen or spoken to Asteria,” she said. “So I haven’t had to lie about anything.”

      “What about how much time you spent with Metwater?” Carmen asked. “Are you lying about that?”

      She wrinkled her nose, and her voice took on a strident edge. “I told you—I don’t wear a watch. I wasn’t keeping track of the time. He said it was an hour, so it must be an hour.”

      “All right,” Ethan said. “Take me through the sequence of events last night. When did you arrive at camp?”

      “The fire circle is always at dusk, so I got to the camp a little before—about eight thirty.”

      “What next?”

      “I walked into camp. The bonfire was going and a lot of Family members were already there. I found some women I knew and stood with them. We waited about fifteen minutes and then the Prophet came out.” A smile transformed her from sulky teen to beautiful woman. “He was wearing a loincloth and had painted his face. He was beautiful.”

      “And he does what at these fire circles?” Every cult had its rituals. The researcher in Ethan was curious about Metwater’s rituals.

      “First, he gave us a message about how we should live. He talked about sharing—about how the rest of the world lives in an economy based on hoarding, but in the Family, everyone shares, and that makes everyone better off, instead of only a few people.”

      Carmen made a snorting noise. Sunshine gave her a sharp look. “Go on,” Carmen said. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

      “After the message, the drummers started up, and the Prophet led us in a chant. Then he began to dance. It was mesmerizing.”

      “What do the rest of you do while he dances?” Ethan asked.

      “We chant. And sometimes the Prophet asks other people to dance with him.” Her cheeks glowed pink. “Last night he asked me to dance with him. I was so excited I couldn’t even feel my feet touch the ground.”

      “How long did you dance?” Ethan asked.

      “Not long. We went around the fire and when we reached my place in the circle, the Prophet kissed my cheek. Everyone was watching and I felt so special.” Her eyes shone with the memory. Metwater certainly had her under his spell.

      “What happened next?” Ethan prompted.

      “The chanting and dancing went on for a little while longer. Then the drums quieted and the Prophet gave us his blessing. Then everyone left the fire circle and went to bed.”

      “Where did you go?” Carmen asked. “Did you go with the Prophet?”

      “Not right away. I stood around talking with some of the other women—Sarah and Moonglow—and a guy named Alex.”

      “What did you talk about?” Ethan asked.

      “Nothing in particular. I wanted to know more about what it was like to live in the Family. I want to join, but the Prophet says they aren’t taking any new members right now. Apparently, they had trouble with some cops pretending to be interested in joining and using that to spy on the group. Can you believe that?”

      Ethan’s eyes met Carmen’s and he suppressed a smile. She had lived with Metwater and his followers for a couple of weeks last month, by


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