Carrie Weaver - Secrets In Texas

“Since Arizona and Utah have become more aggressive in pursuing lawbreakers among the brethren, I imagine Texas will follow suit. It’s not as easy to look the other way these days. I don’t like to see people persecuted for their beliefs, but I also don’t like people to get away with crimes against children in the name of religion.”

Angel refrained from voicing the zillion other questions she burned to ask. She could tell he was shutting down. As it was, he’d opened up to her more than she’d anticipated.

From what she’d read, the children in polygamist sects were taught to distrust outsiders, to deflect any untoward interest, lest their families be torn apart by raids and persecution.

Matthew sat on the bed a few feet away from her. He selected his letter tiles. “You know my story. Now it’s your turn.”

Angel shrugged. “Not much to tell. I had a great childhood. I went to college and graduated with a degree in criminology. I’ve been with the Texas Department of Public Safety for five years and I love what I do.”

“Why law enforcement?”

Normally Angel would have answered with a well-rehearsed spiel. But she knew it wouldn’t fly with Matthew. He was too perceptive. “A cop helped me once when I was in trouble. I guess I admired her and I wanted to help other women like me.”

“What kind of women would that be?”

Angel refused to allow anyone but very close friends and her superiors to know she’d ever been that vulnerable. A victim.

“You know all you need to know about me, Matt.” She stood and headed for the bathroom. Stopping in the doorway, she glanced over her shoulder. “Except that you really don’t want to get in my way. Now I need to dry my hair.”

“What about the game?”

Angel wasn’t sure if he referred to the Scrabble game she’d abandoned or the dangerous personal game developing between them.

“Later.” Her answer was sufficiently vague to cover the subtext.

When she’d finished blow-drying her hair, Matt was packing his suitcase, placing his neatly folded shirts over the boxed Scrabble game.

“What gives?” she asked.

“My uncle called on my cell. He wants us at Zion’s Gate tonight.”

“Tonight? That’s three days early. Did you tell him we’re honeymooning?”

“Yes. But he’s accustomed to being obeyed and I don’t want to antagonize him. We’ll need to leave within the hour. The shortest flight I could find is seven hours including the layover in Houston. Then we’ll rent a car or take a cab to Zion’s Gate.”

“I don’t like this. Why the sudden rush?”

Matt shrugged. “It’s a power play. Get used to it. Besides, my uncle is a very cautious man, and if there’s a question of my loyalty, it would only benefit him to throw me off balance. Me and anyone who might be conspiring with me.”

Nodding, Angel said, “I see your point. I’d probably do the same thing if I was in his position. I’ll have to clear it with Perez first.”

He retrieved her cell from the credenza and tossed it to her. “Then do it.”

Frowning, she opened her phone and dialed. Perez wasn’t happy about the change in plans but didn’t seem completely surprised, either. He again warned her not to take a weapon to Zion’s Gate and told her not to be surprised if her cell was seized, at least initially. She was to hide a pocket PC in her luggage as backup communication.

Angel shut the phone. “We’ll rent a car in Brownsville. I’d rather have transportation available if we need to leave the compound in a hurry. Fortunately for us, I guess uncle dearest isn’t going to pick us up at the airport?”

“No, nor will his elders. They’ll want the home-court advantage. We can use the travel time to go over our cover again.”

“Yeah, our lives might depend on getting it right.”

IT WAS NEARLY midnight when they approached the Zion’s Gate compound. Although the design was reminiscent of an old hacienda, a closer look revealed a solid fortress.

They drove up to a guard shack and announced themselves on the intercom.

Halogen floodlights nearly blinded Matthew. A male voice instructed him to pull forward and park on the other side of the gate.

As the car inched forward, he turned to Angel. “This isn’t exactly what I expected. How am I supposed to drive with those spotlights?”

“Very slowly, which I’m sure is one of the purposes.”

“Yeah, the other is to blind me.”

“You were right when you said your uncle was a cautious man.”

The guard remained in his shack, and a short, stocky Mexican stepped out of the shadows and waved them forward. Once they were in the gate, he gestured for them to stop.

It was then Matthew noticed the assault rifle.

He rolled down his window. “I’m Matthew Stone. My uncle is expecting me.”

“I know who you are,” the man said. “Get out of the car slowly. Raise your hands above your head. Then clasp them behind your neck and get on the ground.”

“Boy, your uncle really knows how to make you feel welcome,” Angel muttered under her breath.

“Do what they say.”

She glared at him. “Well, duh.”

He grasped her forearm. “It’s important you remember your place, Angelina. If you don’t think you can do that, I need to know now. We might still be able to say our visit was a mistake.”

“I’m sorry, Matthew. Of course you’re right. You’re always right.” Her mouth trembled as she slipped into her role. A tear crept out of the corner of her eye.

But Matthew wasn’t fooled. He knew Angel a lot better than she thought. Though her acting was excellent, he knew she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Ever. “Very nice. Let’s keep it this way. No mistakes.”

She lowered her face. “Yes, Matthew.” It was little more than a whisper.

“Get out, now!” the guard commanded.

Matthew opened his door slowly. Angel did the same.

He raised his hands above his head and carefully exited the vehicle. He glanced at Angel. She had her hands behind her head, her face lowered demurely.

“Toss the keys at my feet. Then kneel on the ground. There.” The guard kept the rifle trained on them while he jerked his head in the direction of the area in front of the car.

Matthew carefully tossed the keys and twined his hands behind his neck. Were they afraid he might be a suicide bomber, for goodness sake? His uncle had apparently gone from caution to outright paranoia. Or was he involved in something more dangerous than leading a polygamous community?

“Down.”

Matthew walked slowly forward and sank to his knees, keeping his hands behind his neck.

“Matthew? What’s this all about?” Angel’s voice quavered convincingly. “Surely your uncle doesn’t want us treated like common criminals?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart.”

“A thorough search of all visitors is required,” the man said. “On your knees next to the man.”

Angel obeyed.

A third man came forward and patted down Matthew, stopping to empty his pockets.

Enough was enough. “Where’s my uncle?” he asked.

“You will see your uncle soon. We take precautions first.”

Out of the corner of his eye Matthew saw a man approach with something that looked like an airport security wand.

Sure enough, the thing set off a tone when they reached his waist. Matthew bit back a protest when the man lifted his shirt to reveal his belt buckle.

“You’ll get this back later,” the man said. “We’ll search your luggage, too. Is it in the trunk?”

“Yes.” Sweat beaded Matthew’s forehead.

“Get up. Bring out your suitcases and open them.”

“Is this really necessary?”

“Si.”

Matthew clambered to his feet and went to Angel, extending his hand to help her up.