"Yes, Mama." Ruby dared not look up until she was certain Emma Campbell had returned to the kitchen and her endless baking. And when she did look up, she didn't cry, even though her eyes stung and there was an aching lump in her throat.
Because her daddy had always been a mechanic.
And she was never going to see him again.
* * * *
"That was when Reese called me," Bishop said. "That was when we started putting the pieces together."
"Lightning?" Sawyer cast about for something reasonable to say when presented with the fantastic. "That doesn't sound like any kind of psychic ability I've ever heard of."
"It's about energy." Bishop's tone was remote, the scar standing out whitely against the tanned skin of his cheek. "From what little we've been able to find out, Samuel was struck by lightning when he was a teenager. Not only did he survive, but he came out of the experience profoundly changed."
DeMarco said, "He was already preaching his version of the Bible, not because he'd found God but because he'd found a way to make money. And a way to make people listen to him and respect him. After the lightning he was, as Bishop says, changed. He must have been a latent or even active psychic before then; we have no way to be sure. After that experience, he was very obviously psychic, clairvoyant, and precognitive."
"Miracles," Hollis murmured. "There will always be followers of people who claim to know the secrets of the universe."
"And people who claim to be touched by God," DeMarco said. "I don't know if he believed that when the lightning struck, but eventually, over time, he certainly came to believe it. After that, the only laws he obeyed were the ones God supposedly gave him, and those were remarkably flexible. I don't know much about his journey before he settled here, but I think it's safe to say he discovered a long time ago how easy it was to kill."
The sick feeling in Sawyer's stomach intensified. "Those bodies in the river. Others that washed farther downstream. How long has he been killing here?"
"It was happening when I got inside, so I can't tell you when it started, not for certain. My guess would be that it's been going on for at least five or six years, maybe longer. But I was witness to none of it, he has never confessed any of it to me, and I have no proof whatsoever that would justify even a search warrant or an arrest, let alone a trial and conviction. Not for any of the murders he's committed. Which is why I haven't been able to take any action despite what I know absolutely."
"You said you witnessed a murder last October," Sawyer objected.
"I witnessed a man being struck by lightning," DeMarco said flatly. "Samuel was yards away when it happened. Do I believe he killed that man? Yes. Do I believe I could convince a court of law that Samuel, for want of a better word, summoned a lightning bolt to do it? I don't think so. Any more than I can prove that the enormous energies he released that day also destroyed virtually all the pets and livestock within the Compound. In an instant."
"Which is our theory," Bishop said. "It's also our theory that his use of electromagnetic energy has so affected the very atmosphere above the Compound that even the birds stay away."
Sawyer struggled to let all that sink in. Finally he asked DeMarco, "How long have you been inside the church?"
"You should know. We met shortly after you took office, two years ago."
"Wait," Hollis said. "You've been under that long?"
"Twenty-six months," he said.
Frowning, Hollis turned her gaze to Bishop. "You knew about Samuel that long ago?"
Bishop shook his head. "You heard Reese. It wasn't until last October that I began to suspect Samuel."
"Then why was he sent in?"
"There are presently more than a dozen suspected cults on the FBI watch list because they're believed to be dangerous or potentially dangerous. The FBI, ATF, or Homeland Security has undercover agents in six of them. The SCU has agents inside two of thoseplus Reese here. We knew Samuel posed a danger almost from the moment Reese was inside and able to report. We suspected Samuel was psychic, but since he doesn't read as psychic and has never openly displayed abilities we can define, we were never sure of his capabilities. I had no idea he had any connection to the murders in Boston last summer, or the murders in Georgia a few months later. Not then."
"And now? Are you absolutely sure?" Hollis asked him.
"Ask Reese."
Without waiting to be asked, DeMarco said, "Until about ten years ago, Samuel was fairly harmless, as cult leaders go. Like many of them, as I said, he started preaching young. Then lightning struck, literally. And suddenly he had a mission. To save his followers. He saw himself as their healer, their savior. Over time, he became convinced that he was God's instrument on earth, chosen and set on a path that would lead his people through the dangerous days ahead."
Sawyer grunted and said, "Sounds like most of the preachers I've heard in my life."
DeMarco nodded. "Yeah, not much difference in the early days. But then, gradually, his sermons began to be less about God and more about the role of his flock in the coming End Days. They were, he taught them, persecuted or, worse, ignored by blind and faithless outsiders. The world was a perilous place and would become even more perilous. Only he could protect them; only he could lead them to salvation. They had to trust him, had to believe in him. Utterly."
"And that," Quentin said, "crosses over the line. From legitimate spiritual leader to the first dangerous stages of a cult."
Again, DeMarco nodded. "Still, he wasn't preaching violence as far as any outsider could telland by then some watch groups were paying attention. He preached the usual dire warnings of the approaching End Times, of how the ungodly would be punished, but he wasn't encouraging anyone to do anything about it, other than pray. No abuse reported, no stories from former church members that indicated any openly dangerous tendencies. They didn't even isolate themselves particularly from the communities around them. Only thing that really stood out that long ago was the fact that he left his first small, fairly remote church outside L.A. in the hands of one of his trusted followers and took his act on the road."
"He didn't seem to want to settle anywhere over the next eight or ten years. He traveled around the country. He'd spend maybe a year in a likely spot, usually a small town or other remote area, gathering a few converts and then choosing one of them to run that branch of his church. Then he'd move on to the next likely spot."
"Why?" Sawyer asked. "That doesn't make sense."
"It does seem weirdly random," Hollis agreed. "I've always thought so. If the branches he founded end up anything like the one we found in Venture, it was hardly more than a shack with a handful of loyal members."
"A shackplus a lot of property," Bishop pointed out.
"Well, yeah, but mostly worthless property. Abandoned buildings, defunct businesses, and not a lot of land. What's the good of owning stuff like that? Especially when you don't even bother taking steps to improve the property?"
"I wish I knew."
Hollis frowned again at Bishop, then turned her gaze to DeMarco. "You don't know why he wants the land?"
"No."
"His right-hand man doesn't know?" Sarcasm tinted her tone.
DeMarco appeared to ignore the dig. "No, his right-hand man doesn't have a clue. Samuel plays his cards close to the chest. Very close. He doesn't confide his thoughts to anyone, far as I knowwith the possible exception of Ruth Hardin, who's been with him longer than anyone else. As Bishop said, he doesn't read as psychic, and so far we haven't found a psychic who's able to read him. At all."
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