Her Christmas Protector Page 6

  There are no more True Believers. You’re safe.

  Of course there would always be bad guys, just not the kind who wanted to entrap her for the rest of her life.

  Her PTSD had kept her from choosing to serve on board a ship as a full-time career. The thought of being confined to a ship in the middle of the huge ocean could bring on a panic attack without warning. So she’d picked Intelligence, knowing her shipboard time would be limited, if not completely avoided. As it was she’d had to serve on board an aircraft carrier for two years, but only three months of the tour was exclusively on the ship since it had been in the yards for a refitting. She’d lucked out.

  “I want some candy, Mommy!” A tiny girl harangued her mother from her precarious seat in a shopping cart, throwing skeins of yarn from the cart into the aisle.

  “That’s not very nice. You know the rules—no candy in the morning, Becky. And if you make a mess of the nice yarn we picked out, there won’t be anything to make pom-poms with.” The mother looked like Zora felt—weary.

  Had her biological mother ever taken her out for a normal mother-daughter shopping trip? Or had it all been as she remembered and centered on their “community”?

  Cursing her trip down memory lane and knowing she had minutes until the exhaustion from her healing body would catch up to her, she made a beeline for the grocery section. Mom had said she needed eggs and milk. Zora preferred almond milk to cows’, so she’d need to get a carton of each if she didn’t want to listen to her mother’s explanations of why Zora should drink cows’ milk to ensure she got enough protein and calcium. She’d tell Anna that the almond milk was a treat, for special concoctions like her homemade hot cocoa. It was a bold-faced lie, though, as Zora rarely drank dairy milk if she could help it. She caught a movement out of the corner of her eye. Whether it was the color of the woman’s scarf, her uniquely styled hair or the silhouette she made in her long, dowdy skirt and plaid blouse, topped with an unbuttoned, very basic wool coat, Zora didn’t know. But something forced her gaze to the strange woman who stood at the end of the aisle Zora pushed her cart in. The woman who stood there and watched every move Zora made.

  As if she knew her.

  Recognition bolted Zora to the spot.

  The woman had the same green eyes as Zora. The same wide mouth. The same red hair, only streaked with gray, and pulled into a tight bun that made the woman look far older than she should, that emphasized the long lines that splayed from her eyes and again from her nose to her lips.

  Deep wrinkles—the kind that either a long life or a hard life brought.

  Lines a woman who’d lost her only daughter would have.

  Panic pressed into Zora’s lungs, and bright spots floated across her vision. Her hands clutched her shopping cart.

  No. Breathe, damn it.

  She closed her eyes and breathed, using every yoga technique she could muster in the middle of the busy store.

  When she opened her eyes, the woman was gone.

  But she hadn’t been a figment of her imagination. Zora knew the woman too well.

  Edith Simms. Her biological mother.

  Chapter 5

  “I’m sorry to come unannounced but I need to speak with Claudia.” Zora had to tell someone what she’d seen at Walmart and it wasn’t Bryce or anyone at the SVPD who needed to know that Anna seemed to be right—the True Believers had somehow found her.

  “She’s in a meeting.” Lara, the young receptionist who Zora suspected did more than administrative work, looked at her monitor. “She might have a few minutes when they break, but I’ll have to ask her.”

  “That’s fine, I’ll wait.”

  Zora turned to take a seat in the small waiting area when she heard the door behind Lara’s desk open.

  “Zora, what’s going on?”

  “Claudia, I’m so sorry to barge in like this.” Zora realized in that instant that she must look a sight in her loose flannel pants and oversize hooded sweatshirt. She’d dressed as comfortably as possible to go out, wanting to appear like any other shopper on a cold autumn day in Silver Valley.

  “It’s actually perfect timing. Come on in.”

  She didn’t have time to wonder what made the timing perfect as she followed her boss into the spacious room that was the heart of the Trail Hikers organization. At least, the center of all operations that didn’t have to be monitored from the bunker deep in the Appalachian Mountains, which Zora had only visited once, during her training.

  “Have a seat, Zora. I trust you’re already acquainted?” Claudia motioned to the man who sat in one of the tall wingback chairs in front of her black lacquer executive desk.

  He unfolded himself from the chair and his expression wasn’t as surprised as Zora knew hers was.

  “Bryce.”

  “Zora.”

  Claudia laughed at how they spoke in unison and gave them no time to speak further.

  “Sit down, both of you. This saves me from having to tell each of you separately that you’re going to work on the Female Preacher Killer case together.”

  “We are? But I’m just helping out as needed. That’s what I thought anyway.” Zora didn’t want Claudia to think she was shirking, but having to work with Bryce around the clock wasn’t what she’d signed up for.

  “You were, but it’s clear that at least one shooter is out there, on the loose, and he knows where you live. He might even know that you’re not Chaplain Colleen Hammermill, but Zora Krasny, former naval intelligence officer. Since you’re a counselor, you may come close enough to being a minister in his eyes. And anyone who doesn’t think women should be in the pulpit probably isn’t thrilled about them being in uniform, either.”

  “And since I’m a live target, it makes sense that you’d need me to stay on the case.”

  “Right. As for Bryce—we’ve just begun the process of indoctrinating him into the Trail Hikers. We needed another point of contact at SVPD besides Superintendent Colt Todd, and Bryce is a perfect fit.”

  “I don’t see how Detective Campbell and me working together will make a difference—the entire SVPD and surrounding law enforcement has been looking for the killer for over a month. Aren’t we all working together?”

  “Of course, but it’s not getting wrapped up as quickly as we’d hoped.” Claudia nodded at Bryce. “Bryce’s work at both murder scenes was impeccable. There’s no doubt that both ministers were killed by the same weapon, presumably fired by the same suspect.”

  “He’s going to strike again, most likely in the next several days, as the local churches gear up for the end of Advent and Christmas festivities.” Bryce spoke quickly and without looking at Zora.

  He acted as if he barely knew her.

  “The churches need to stop their activities until we catch him.” Zora spoke from her experience as a naval officer.

  “This isn’t a base or a ship, Zora. We can’t ask an entire community to put a lockdown on Christmas. Plus, their spiritual beliefs won’t stand for it. The congregations won’t allow a criminal to stop their faith practices.”

  “They will if they understand we’re dealing with a cold-blooded killer.”

  “They already know that. Two female ministers are dead. To date we’ve been able to keep the most telling details out of the press, but it’s only a matter of time before something leaks and the killer is able to get ahead of us.” Bryce looked at her this time, his expression serious. “The public knows the killer is after female ministers, but none of the crime scene details have been leaked.”

  “Yet.” Claudia turned to Zora. “It’s a matter of time, and once that happens, we’ll have to consider the possibility of a copycat.”

  “What do you need me to do?”

  “We need you to continue as Reverend Colleen Hammermill, and to work with a local church as their ‘interim’ pastor. You’ll fill in for their regular minister, who will tell her congregation that her mother has taken ill in another state and needs her.”

  “Won’
t that be rather obvious to the killer?”

  “Not necessarily. Ministers are people, too, and their families get sick. They’ll be more focused on another female minister taking her place. You.”

  Zora ran over the figures she’d read. “We have as many as fifteen female ministers and two rabbis in a one-hundred-mile radius of Silver Valley. How will you pick which church to put me in?”

  “So far, the shooter has only hit the smallest of the congregations shepherded by a female minister. He hasn’t targeted the temples and Hanukkah is almost over. I think, and the evidence points to, the killer wanting a big finale—a Christmas service of one type or another. It’s possible he targeted smaller churches to start with because there’d be fewer witnesses if he was seen.”

  “And fewer families to affect.” Zora spoke her thought aloud. Claudia and Bryce stared at her.

  “Think about it. If the killer wants to make a big statement, they’re not going to go after a big church to start with—they’d have too much of a pushback from law enforcement and the public, not to mention church members who would voluntarily rally to protect other ministers in the area.”

  “Right—and that goes along with my theory that whoever this is wants to make a big splash.” Bryce rubbed the back of his neck. “But the big splash might very well mean Christmas, and at a very large, very public church.”

  “Silver Valley Community Church.” Zora almost whispered the words. Silver Valley Community Church boasted a congregation of over two thousand who all met in one large theater-like building in the center of town. They’d hired a female pastor a year earlier, before the killings began.

  “Exactly.” Claudia confirmed Zora’s fear.

  “Do you really think the killer would try to take out the new pastor in front of her congregation?” Zora knew the other two ministers had been murdered as they walked to their cars after church functions.

  Claudia pursed her lips and shook her head once.

  “No. I think the killer will want to take out that new pastor in front of an audience of over thirty-five hundred. That’s what the congregation swells to during the Christmas pageants and services.”

  “No.” Zora’s response was pure reflex. She knew evil existed, and that it sometimes came to nice places like Silver Valley. The reality of it was still overwhelming.

  “I need you to fill in for Pastor Katherine Pearson. She’s already been read into the op and is going to go to California to look after her ailing mother. We’ve had the church secretary send out a mass email with a personal letter from Pastor Pearson, announcing you as her replacement.”

  “Nothing like getting her as far away from here as possible.”

  “Right. And getting you in as bait, fully visible.” Claudia was on a roll. “You won’t be alone—you’re going to have a partner to help you with this, Zora.”

  “Oh?”

  Bryce cleared his throat. “Allow me to introduce myself. I’m your fiancé.”

  Zora’s chest started to do its panic-attack dance again and she rested her head against the back of the wing chair. “You’re kidding.”

  Claudia walked around to the front of her desk and stood in front of Zora and Bryce.

  “This is no joking matter, Zora. We’ve got to save Christmas for Silver Valley.”

  * * *

  “What did you come in here to talk to me about, Zora?” Claudia looked at her across the expanse of her shiny black desk. Bryce had left to make sure Pastor Pearson’s travel plans were confirmed within the next few hours.

  “It’s going to seem crazy, but it may have relevance.”

  “Go ahead.”

  “You know that I was in a religious cult as a child?”

  Claudia nodded. “Yes, you told us when we hired you, and I’ve read the reports and case files that I was able to get hold of.”

  Which meant she knew everything. Zora didn’t need to ask. She knew firsthand the resources of the Trail Hikers were far-reaching and she didn’t doubt that Claudia had seen some of the original police files on the cult.

  “I have to tell you, Zora, your testimony was the most courageous thing I’ve ever read. To be able to speak so clearly and succinctly about what you’d witnessed was remarkable. And you were only twelve.”

  “Yes, but that was over twenty years ago. Most of the prisoner terms handed down to the cult’s members are now up.”

  “Including the leader, Leonard Wise.”

  “Yes.”

  “What are you trying to tell me, Zora?”

  “I saw my mother—my biological mother—in Walmart earlier. Edith Simms. That’s why I came here, why I look like I do. I went to get out of the house, to get used to going out and about again.”

  “Zora, you’ve been through a lot, you’re on pain meds...”

  “I stopped them as soon as I got home. I wouldn’t risk driving under their influence, and besides, I hate the fuzzy-headed feeling they give me. I’m not crazy, Claudia. It was her.”

  “I’ll run some checks and see where she was last living. She never went to jail, did she?”

  “You read the reports. She rolled over and told the authorities enough to stay free.”

  “But she’d never know where you went, who you became.”

  “No, that was her punishment, I guess.”

  “And you’ve never tried to contact her since then?”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Not directly anyway, but she wasn’t willing to tell Claudia that. “When I first came to my parents here, it was hard. I felt guilty for all of the trouble I’d caused my mother and my friends in the community. But it faded as I got counseling and grew stronger as an individual.”

  “Is that why you decided to get your counseling degree?”

  “Partly, yes.” Zora shook her head. “But this isn’t why I’m here—if my mother is here, and she recognized me like I recognized her, this could mean they’ve found me. The True Believers who are still free, and the ones who are getting out of jail now, may have come to get their revenge. I can’t put my parents or anyone else at risk with this.”

  “One thing at a time. First, it’s unlikely that was your mother, no matter how sure you feel. Second, if it was her, she may not have recognized you. Third, even if it was her and she knew you, it doesn’t mean any other cult members are in Silver Valley. She could be on her own now.”

  “But why here, why now? It’s possible that whoever shot me in my driveway isn’t the Female Preacher Killer. It could be one of the True Believers.”

  “Let me worry about that. Meanwhile, go home and get ready for life as a minister during the busiest time of the year. One more thing, Zora—have you ever mentioned your past to Bryce?”

  “No. All he knows is that Anna and Adam adopted me when I was twelve. I’ve never told anyone else about my past, except for a child psychologist whom I met with for the first several years after I moved here. They were all approved by WSP.”

  “You may need to cut him in on it, at some point.”

  “I don’t see how it’s relevant to this case.”

  “It’s not, but I think it’s good to know as much about your partner as possible. No secrets between partners is a credo I stand by. You have to be able to trust each other implicitly.”

  “We’ve known each other since we were quite young.”

  “But there’s been a huge gap in your acquaintance, correct?”

  “Yes. I don’t even have a Facebook account, and if I had, joining the Trail Hikers would have meant canceling it anyway.”

  “You’re free to keep up your regular civilian routine, Zora. Your role at the Trail Hikers and our mission is to keep things running safely and without the threat of imminent danger to innocent civilians. You’ll never work under anything but an assumed name for us. Your private life remains that. Private.”

  “I know.” Claudia had quoted the contract she’d signed with the government shadow agency almost verbatim. The spirit of the words, however, was different. Somet
imes fulfilling your mission meant sacrificing everything.

  Including the people and things you held most dear, like your family. But she hadn’t expected that her work with the Trail Hikers would ever expose them to danger.

  * * *

  “Mom, I’m fine, promise. I’ll call you in the morning to let you know how I’m doing. Right now all I want to do is heat up the yummy roasted chicken you left me and relax with Butternut in front of a decent movie.”

  “Okay, sweetheart. Talk to you in the morning.” Anna had her purse in hand along with a huge tote bag, her idea of a suitcase. Zora’s heart felt so raw looking at the woman who’d raised her without question, with total unconditional love. She wanted to hug Anna and never let go, never stop thanking her.

  “Bye, Mom!”

  “Bye.” Anna hoisted herself into the Ford F-150 she’d insisted she needed to “haul things for church and my friends.” Zora couldn’t stop smiling as she watched her, no matter how grim the case she was now involved with.

  No matter that she was “engaged” to Bryce.

  She gave herself a minute to enjoy the stillness of the house. Finally, after days with either or both of her parents and a steady stream of visitors, she had some peace and quiet.

  Butternut let out a sharp bark and trotted to the front door.

  Zora groaned. No way, not now.

  She ignored the tiny flips in her stomach when she recognized the profile of the man on her porch. She’d left the main door open. Now she unlocked the glass storm door.

  “Hi, Bryce. What’s going on?”

  “Nothing at the moment. Can I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  Anxiety endangered her hard-won calm. How had she gone from a part-time Trail Hikers operative on the side to full-fledged undercover agent in just a few days?

  Bryce tilted his head as he gave her a once-over.

  “Are you okay? You look a little stressed.”

  “I’m fine. Have you eaten?” She ushered him through the hallway, past the living room and back to the kitchen, determined to eat a full meal before she had another deep conversation about the case with anyone. Claudia’s words had stuck with her all afternoon and she felt as if she’d been away from home for days instead of a few hours.