“Yes, I was meant to bring order and calm back to the church. And to accomplish that, I first had to clear the path.”
“Clear what path?”
“The path leading to peace. I had to take care of the obstacle in the path.”
“And that obstacle was…”
“Angelica.”
“You had to kill Angelica?” I said slowly.
“I had to,” she said. “I’m sorry, but Solomon was losing sleep; he was beside himself with anguish. He couldn’t concentrate on his church duties and it was beginning to affect the morale of the congregation, so I took the responsibility upon myself to help him.” She faltered, but then straightened up and kept walking. “It was my honor. He’s my deacon.”
“So you owe him your honor and duty.”
“Yes,” she said, sounding pleased that I’d caught on. “It’s all in the bible, Brooklyn. We can look there for all the answers.”
“Which answer are you referring to?”
“An eye for an eye,” she said.
I dropped another chocolate kiss and hoped for rescue. “What do you mean?”
She stopped to explain. “Max Adams took what Solomon wanted: Angelica. Now I will take what Max wants: Emily. This will cause Max to suffer, which will make Solomon happy. And it all provides blood for Ogun.”
“Ogun decrees. I obey, honor, and serve.” Crystal refused to talk to me after that, just continued walking me briskly through the darkness. Leaves slapped at my face and thick bushes pulled at my clothes.
I knew Crystal wasn’t crazy; deep down, she was a good person. But between the zealous advocacy for her church and her obsession with Solomon, she had lost her way.
I thought about what she’d said.
Still, the name of their church was the True Blood of Ogun. Was that what it meant-human sacrifice? True blood?
I almost laughed at the path my thoughts were taking. I didn’t believe it for a minute. No way was there a band of wacked-out churchgoers sacrificing humans in Dharma.
My imagination was running overtime. I took a deep breath and let it out, then did it again a few more times. I needed to focus my energies, clear my thoughts, and channel my mother. What would Mom do to keep from flipping out? I found my answer.
“If Solomon gets out of jail, do you think he’ll marry you?” I asked, determined to keep talking no matter what. That’s what Mom would do. Mom could talk so much and for so long, she could completely confuse the most clever kidnapper of all time-which Crystal wasn’t. “He might be afraid of you after you bonked him on the head with that frying pan.”
“He’s a man,” Crystal said calmly. “I’ll get him back.”
So she wasn’t denying the frying pan incident. And she was probably right about Solomon coming back to her, but not because he was a man. No, it was because Solomon was an idiot.
“He is weak,” she said, causing me to question whether she could read my thoughts. But we were talking about Solomon, after all. I guess even Crystal needed to keep it real.
“Yes, he’s weak,” I said in agreement.
“He’ll need a strong woman to survive the coming apocalypse,” she said matter-of-factly, then laughed softly. “Does a man really think a fragile flower of a woman can be anything more than a cipher, a worthless drag on his power? He’ll need that power when we all meet in the Battle to End All Days.”
I supposed I could see her point, although I wasn’t familiar with the battle she was talking about. It had to be some Ogunite battle.
I’d known Crystal Byers for years and I continued to hold on to the belief that she wasn’t insane. I was sure her actions sprang from a sincere desire to please her church. But I was beginning to see that what went on in Crystal’s head was far more complicated than any of us had ever guessed.
I’d seen how men had treated her-or, rather, how they
Good for her. But that didn’t mean I was going to let Emily go down with her.
After another ten minutes and five Hershey’s Kisses, the woods opened up. Clouds moved on the breeze, revealing the moon and stars for the first time.
Crystal pushed me out into the small clearing and I staggered to a stop. In the moonlight I could see from her expression that Crystal was deadly serious.
A massive fallen tree split the clearing in half. Both Minka and Emily were lying on top of the trunk, strapped to it with duct tape and rope. Another strip of duct tape covered each of their mouths. They were stripped down to their underwear. Minka was twisting and grunting and doing everything to escape her bonds, but Emily didn’t stir at all.
“Father Ogun will feast tonight,” Crystal declared with joy in her voice.
I whipped around. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
She smiled coyly. “Figuratively speaking, of course.” Taking the gun from her pocket, she pointed it at me. “Now it’s your turn, Brooklyn. Take off your clothes.”
I glanced around, stalling for time, feeling myself shaking right down to my bones. And wondering,
Chapter 27
There was no way on this green earth I was going to strip in front of this obsessed woman. I didn’t believe in denigrating other religions, but as far as I was concerned, this Ogun dude was a pervert and a creep. And as for his faithful follower Crystal, at this point I was willing to accept that she might be a few sandwiches short of a picnic.
But I was also convinced that Solomon had manipulated Crystal into killing Angelica and taking Emily. He might not have said the words, but he would have made it clear that doing so would make him happy. And Crystal lived to make Solomon happy.
The only thing I could do right now was keep on blathering until Derek found us. I prayed it would be soon. I couldn’t tell if Emily was conscious, but if she was, she had to be scared to death. I was getting there, too.
“So you killed Angelica,” I said.
“OMG, Brooklyn,” she said, smiling as she shook her head at me. “We already talked about that. Yes, I did it. I admit it. Out of duty to my deacon and my church.”
“And because you’re in love with Solomon and wanted him for yourself.”
She sighed, mildly irritated with me. “I do love Solomon but it was more than that. Angelica’s presence was harming our church. Anyway, you already know all this. Just take off your clothes and let’s get on with it.”
I held up both hands to delay the inevitable. “I just need to know: did you kill Joe Taylor, the bookstore owner?”
She frowned. “Who?”
“Joseph Taylor, the bookseller on Clement Street.”