Into the Light (The Light #1) Page 29

  As I watched my Assembly sister, my gut told me that things were different for Deborah than for most of us. Not only had she recently given birth to a beautiful son, she’d gone back to her job and worked six hours a day at the clinic with Raquel. Sister Esther mentioned once in confidence how difficult it was to leave her baby and return to work; however, there wasn’t an option to do otherwise. It was Father Gabriel’s rule that all babies be under his word in day care by five weeks of age. What bothered me about Deborah was that even while she was pregnant, she was often corrected. Brother Abraham not only used his belt, but often her cheek or eye was bruised. More times than I could count there’d been visual evidence.

  It wasn’t up to women to question Brother Abraham’s reasoning, but after the short time I remembered having known Deborah, I found it difficult to believe that she was that disobedient. Honestly, she was quiet and sweet, and now that her son, Philip, was here, she was tired. Once in a while in service, I’d watch Brother Abraham. Truth be told, not only was I concerned for Deborah, but he also scared me. Though I knew Jacob would never allow another man to touch me, I wasn’t comfortable around Brother Abraham. If my instincts were correct, Deborah felt the same. As others comforted her and reminded her to pray, she said the right words. Still, there was something missing.

  After prayer meeting Elizabeth, Raquel, and I walked down a corridor toward our husbands. As we did, I rubbed the tips of my fingers together, wondering if I’d ever get used to the strange sensation. Once a month, all followers pressed the pads of their fingers onto a special prayer sponge. Symbolically it removed our individuality, making us all equal parts of Father Gabriel’s family. Though we were chosen, our behavior was an example to the other followers. It didn’t hurt. It just felt odd.

  As we were on our way to the Assembly room, a female follower with long blonde hair secured in a braid approached. Though something about her caught my attention, I couldn’t remember having seen her before. Then again, as an Assembly wife I was rather isolated.

  “Sister Elizabeth,” the blonde said.

  Elizabeth nodded toward Raquel and me as she greeted the woman. “Sister Mary, so nice to see you.” Since Elizabeth and Brother Luke worked with new followers, she seemed to know almost everyone. It wasn’t uncommon for female followers to come to her with questions. Though I wasn’t a new follower, I understood the appeal of having women to help you understand.

  Not wanting to intrude, Raquel and I stepped back. Elizabeth reached for Sister Mary’s hand and spoke softly as Sister Mary nodded. I watched as Elizabeth’s red hair fell in soft curls near her shoulders, veiling her lips and keeping their conversation private.

  “She’s so good at what she does,” Raquel whispered.

  I nodded. “Have you ever seen her before—Sister Mary?”

  “Yes, in the clinic.”

  My eyes widened. “In the clinic? Was she sick?”

  “No, it was just . . . when she first arrived. You know . . . to make sure she’s healthy and didn’t have any illnesses from the dark.”

  “Oh, yes, that makes sense.” I watched as Mary bit her lower lip and smiled. “I don’t know why, but she looks familiar.”

  Raquel laughed. “I know why.”

  “You do?”

  “Yes, don’t you see it?”

  I scanned Mary one last time as she wiped a tear and nodded to Elizabeth. “Not really, but I must admit, I admire her hair.”

  Raquel tapped my arm. “She looks like you, even her hair.”

  I pouted. “Was it really that long?”

  “It was, and it will be again. I’ve enjoyed the shorter cut. It was a fun change.”

  Before I could respond, Elizabeth was back, and we made our way toward the Assembly room.

  All the Assemblymen lived in the same building in similar apartments. The only differences were the color and placement of the furniture, not that there were many options. Space within the community was limited, but we had what we needed. No one questioned. After all, even Father Gabriel lived as we did. According to Elizabeth our apartments were bigger than those of the regular followers. Her and Brother Luke’s jobs meant they often visited followers in their homes. As an Assemblyman’s wife, I too was supposed to help with the wives of followers under Jacob’s direction. So far I’d met with them only in the temple. But going to them and helping them understand Father Gabriel’s word was a responsibility I was honored to perform again, and one of the reasons I’d studied so diligently.

  When we arrived back at the apartment building, Brother Benjamin asked Brother Luke and Jacob to come to his apartment. The way they looked at one another, I assumed they wanted to discuss something from their meeting. Whatever it was, we wouldn’t be told the details, especially if it was something they believed needed to be discussed in private. Before they left, Jacob said to the others, “With your permission, the ladies may wait together in our apartment.”

  I bit my lip and waited: there was something I wanted to discuss too. As part of the chosen, we had to be careful what we did or said in public.

  Brothers Luke and Benjamin agreed.

  “Come on in,” I said, as my two best friends entered my apartment. “Would you like something to drink?”

  Raquel chatted about something as I made coffee and contemplated bringing up the question of Deborah. If it had been only Raquel, I wouldn’t have hesitated, but sometimes Elizabeth was more rigid with the rules.

  “Elizabeth?”

  She looked up from the sofa as I handed her a cup. “Thanks.”

  “What’s up? You look far away.” I looked to Raquel, who shrugged.

  “Nothing,” Elizabeth said. “I’ll talk to Luke about it.”

  “Do you always tell him everything the women tell you? Like whatever you were talking to Sister Mary about?”

  She nodded. “I have to.” Her striking green eyes scanned from Raquel to me. “I mean, we work together. For example, if Sister Mary were to tell me something that her husband needs to know, then Luke would be the one to do that.” She shrugged. “It’s up to Luke, really.”

  “But if she talks to you in confidence?” I asked.

  Elizabeth’s head moved back and forth. “Sara, you know that there can’t be any secrets or confidence or whatever you choose to call it between a wife and husband.”

  I nodded. “What if all marriages weren’t like ours?”

  “What do you mean?” Raquel asked.

  I sat on the other end of the sofa from Elizabeth, pulled my knees to my chest, and tucked my skirt around my legs. “I mean, what if some husbands take the whole discipline thing too far?” I exhaled. “OK, I’m just going to say it. I’m worried about Deborah.”

  Raquel nodded while Elizabeth’s lips formed a straight line of disapproval.

  “Why,” I pointedly asked my friend, “Elizabeth, is it bad for me to be concerned?”

  “Concern is your right, but you need to give it to Brother Jacob and pray about it. Not gossip about it.”

  I blew on my coffee, helping it cool. “First, I’m not gossiping. If I were, I’d be telling you something you didn’t know. You know what I’m saying. And, second, I have given it to Jacob.”

  “You have?” she asked, surprised.

  “Yes, and it’s still happening.”

  Raquel became uncharacteristically quiet.

  “Raquel?” I asked. “Deborah works with you. Do you think my concerns are unfounded?”

  She shook her head, and then, looking to Elizabeth, she said, “I’ve done the same as Sara.”

  “And what did Brother Benjamin say?”

  “He said to pray and support Deborah.”

  I placed my cup on the table and flung my body back to the sofa. “I don’t think she’s happy, not like us. I mean, I get that Jacob is the head of our household. I even accept his correction, but I also know he loves me, and I love him.”

  Elizabeth and Raquel shared some strange secret smile.

  “What?”
I asked.

  Raquel patted my knee. “Nothing. We’re just happy to hear you say that.”

  I scrunched my nose. “Isn’t it obvious? I mean it is with you and Brother Benjamin and you and Brother Luke.” I smiled at Raquel. “Even when Brother Benjamin mentions you at the lab, his eyes go all adoring.”

  Raquel’s cheeks blushed as she looked down.

  “It is obvious,” Elizabeth said with a smile. “It’s also nice to hear.”

  “But that’s just it,” I pursued. “It isn’t obvious between Deborah and Brother Abraham. I mean, have you watched them together? I think she’s afraid of him, and I don’t see the adoration or love, from either of them.”

  “Sara!” Elizabeth said, “You can worry and talk about Deborah, but you can’t presume to talk about Brother Abraham.”

  I exhaled, unable or unwilling to hold my tongue, even if it meant my own correction. “We’re wives of Assemblymen. Are we just going to sit back and wait until Deborah isn’t at the clinic as a nurse, but as a patient?”

  Raquel sighed. “It’s already happened.”

  “What?!” I asked, while simultaneously Elizabeth exclaimed, “Raquel!”

  “Elizabeth, you heard Sara. She’s here, fully. She needs to know.”

  I tilted my head. “What do you mean, I’m here . . . fully?”

  “I mean, you’re back, like a hundred and ten percent. As you were recovering from your accident, we didn’t want to burden you.”

  “I don’t understand. Why can’t we help her before it’s too late?”

  “Because,” Elizabeth began, “Brother Abraham is also an Assemblyman. If he were a follower, like Brother Adam, it would be different.”

  “Who’s Brother Adam?” Raquel and I asked in unison.

  Elizabeth shook her head. “Forget I said that.”

  My mind spun. “Is Brother Adam the husband of the woman who spoke to you, Mary?”

  “It’s not something I can discuss.” Her green eyes shot toward me. “Forget I mentioned it.”

  “Wait, so let’s say hypothetically”—I paused. When she didn’t respond, I went on—“a female follower comes up to you and tells you in confidence that she has a problem with her husband. I’m just going to say it. He’s abusive. Then do you tell Brother Luke and let it go from there?”

  “Hypothetically,” Elizabeth said, “yes.”

  “So with Deborah, if she said something to her overseer’s wife, could that Commissioner’s wife tell her husband, and then could he talk to Brother Abraham?”

  “Theoretically,” Raquel said, “but guess who’s Brother Abraham’s overseer.”

  I had four choices: Brothers Raphael, Daniel, Noah, or Timothy. I knew Brother Daniel wouldn’t turn a blind eye, and I worked with Brother Raphael. He’d always been kind to me. I didn’t know much about Brother Noah, other than Jacob said he worked with the finances of The Light. When new followers came to The Light they sold all their possessions from the dark and donated the money to help buy supplies. That left me one option: Brother Timothy. “Either Brother Noah or Timothy. I’m going to guess . . .”

  Raquel nodded. “Without Brother Timothy’s consent, the concerns, even if they’re voiced by Deborah and Sister Lilith took them to her husband, can’t be taken to Father Gabriel. Nothing can be done.” She looked at Elizabeth and then back to me. “It’s better if you don’t say any more. It was brought up about a year ago, and you probably don’t remember . . .”

  I shook my head.

  “After that was when she was a patient. It didn’t do her any good. It made it worse.”

  Horrified, I turned toward Elizabeth. “Is that what happens to people like Mary if you tell Luke?”

  “Hypothetically?” she asked.

  I nodded.

  “Sometimes, but usually not. Followers respect the opinion and advice of Assemblymen. Luke carries a lot of weight. He can usually help the situation.”

  “But just like Jacob helps Brother Daniel with the followers he oversees, doesn’t Brother Abraham help Brother Timothy?”

  They both nodded.

  “So if a follower is unfortunate enough to be assigned to that chain of command . . . ?”

  Elizabeth nodded. “Then they still have Luke and me. We just have to be sure to follow the rules, but we still can do our best to help.”

  I took a drink of my coffee. “Wow, Elizabeth, I didn’t realize how difficult your job was. I’m never complaining about the lab again.”

  Raquel laughed. “Hey, you complained about working with my husband?”

  “No,” I said, smiling. “I actually like working with him and Brother Raphael. They’ve been very patient, and so has Dinah. She’s been great.”

  They both nodded. “She’s one of us. We stick together.”

  I sighed. “I wish we could help Deborah. I still worry.”

  CHAPTER 28

  Stella

  I handed Foster the list of properties Jenn, from Preston and Butler, had e-mailed to my personal address last night. “I’ve only glanced through it, but it seems like a lot of property. I always assumed that realty firms arranged the sale of property from the owner to the new buyer. I wasn’t aware that the firm would own so much itself.”

  Foster shrugged. “They do both. It really depends on the size of the company. While Entermann’s began as a broker, looking at this list, now I’d call them an investment company.”

  “Did you know that Entermann’s falls under a list of subsidiaries of Wilkens Industries?”

  “I thought you were talking the other day about Uriel Harris and his connection with Wilkens Industries?”

  “I was. Here, let me see this list.” I took the list and circled the property on Glendale, the old school. “This property is currently owned by Entermann’s, but before that it was owned by Harris, and before that Wilkens Industries. Since Wilkens owns Entermann’s, well, I’m seeing a circle, but why?”

  “It’s only a complete circle if Harris is connected.”

  “That’s what I want to know. I’ve been trying to find current information on Uriel Harris. In the day, he was all over, buying property, but then all his holdings were sold. He took a big loss and disappeared.” I shook my head. “I don’t mean literally. There’s no record of his death. What I mean is that I can’t find him. His last known address was 12560 Kingsway Trace, Bloomfield Hills.” As soon as I said the address, my heart clenched, and I looked up at Foster. “Tell me that isn’t same address as the MOA house you told me about.”

  “Shit, it isn’t, but it’s damn close.”

  I shook my head, my braid skimming across my back. “See, this is what I mean. Circles, that’s all I’m getting is circles.”

  “Have you accessed Harris’s taxes?”

  “I did up until he sold everything. For the last two years there’s nothing. No personal or corporate. Nothing.”

  “Stella?” Foster asked, looking at the list of properties. “Did you just say 12560 Kingsway Trace?”

  I nodded, looking down at where Foster’s finger was on the list. “Entermann’s owns that too?” I asked in disbelief.

  “According to this list.”

  Remembering a recent conversation with Dina Rosemont, I asked, “What do you know about a private airstrip off of Woodward Avenue and Eastways Road?”

  “Not much, but that’s up in Bloomfield Hills. There are lots of wealthy people, so a private airstrip wouldn’t surprise me. Why?”

  “I promised a friend I’d go check it out. I think while I’m up there I might check out this house on Kingsway Trace.”

  “Well,” Foster said, “be smart and take I-75. Woodward would get you there, but I recommend you avoid Highland Heights.”

  Why hadn’t I thought of that? Woodward goes straight from Highland Heights to Bloomfield Hills.

  I rolled my eyes. “Have you been talking to Dylan?”

  “Me? No. Why?”

  I shook my head. “Nothing. I’ll call after I have a look ar
ound. While I’m up there, do you want me to check out the MOA house?”

  “No. You have enough things going on with this story. You don’t need another. Besides, there’s no reason to think it’s connected.”

  “You’re right. I’m overly suspicious of everything. It’s the whole compilation theory.”

  “Compilation?” he asked.

  “Like everything is a piece of something bigger. I think I’m trying to fit everything together when they don’t fit.”

  Foster’s voice softened. “I just picked up a story about a teacher at East Grove. A mother claims she saw inappropriate pictures on her daughter’s phone. If you’d like to take that, I’ll take this over. I can tell it’s wearing on you.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t want to give it up. I feel like I’m so close. I just need one break.”

  “OK, the offer stands.”

  I smiled at my friend as I gathered my things.

  Driving on I-75 to Bloomfield Hills, I remembered my conversation with Dina Rosemont and how impressed I’d been with her strength and determination. She had said she would never give up her search, and from the sound of her voice I believed her. We both knew the statistics weren’t in Mindy’s favor and got worse the longer she stayed missing. I shook my head, thinking how it had been over two months. I didn’t know if the story I was researching would help her or help us learn about her, but my gut told me it would. That was why I couldn’t hand it over to Foster. Even so, Bernard had given me only until the end of October. That was less than three weeks. I needed to learn something, soon.

  Dina told me that she’d received a phone call from a woman who had seen one of the flyers she’d hung. The woman wouldn’t give her name, but said that as a mother she needed to call. Apparently the caller lived near Woodward Avenue and Eastways Road, and there was a wooded area near her home where her children liked to play. A private airstrip was located there too.