“Oh?” I searched his face but it was blank.
“Thank you for the ham and grits, Tempe. I hope you got your money’s worth.” His grin looked strained.
I touched his arm. “What aren’t you telling me, Red?”
The grin faded. “Is your sister a pupil of Daisy Jeannotte?”
“No. Why?”
“Jeannotte was at the center of a controversy some years back. I don’t know the real story, and I don’t want to spread gossip. Just be cautious.”
I wanted to ask more, but with that he nodded and set off toward his car.
I stood in the sunshine with my mouth open. What the hell did that mean?
When I got home Kit had left a message. He’d located a course catalog, but there was nothing that sounded like Harry’s workshop in the North Harris County Community College listings. He had found an Inner Life Empowerment flyer on his mother’s desk, however. The paper had a thumbtack hole, and he suspected it had come from a bulletin board. He’d called the number. It was no longer in service.
Harry’s course had nothing to do with the college!
Red’s words intertwined with Ryan’s, heightening my feeling of dread. New relationships. In transition. Unaffiliated. Vulnerable.
For the rest of the day I skittered from task to task, my concentration destroyed by worry and indecision. Then, as shadows lengthened across my patio, I took a call that jarred me into more organized thinking. I listened in shock as the story unfolded, then I made a decision.
I dialed my department head to tell him that I would be leaving earlier than planned. Since I’d scheduled an absence for the physical anthropology conference my students would miss only one additional class period. I was sorry, but I had to go.
When we disconnected I went upstairs to pack. Not for Oakland, but for Montreal.
I had to find my sister.
I had to stop the madness that was rolling in like Piedmont thunder.
29
AS THE PLANE TOOK OFF I CLOSED MY EYES AND LEANED INTO THE seat, too exhausted from another restless night to notice my surroundings. Normally I enjoy feeling the acceleration as I rise and watch the world grow small, but not at that moment. The words of a frightened old man rebounded through my brain.
I stretched, and my foot tapped the package I’d placed beneath the seat. Hand-carried. Always in view. Chain of custody could be important.
Beside me, Ryan flipped through the USAirways magazine. Unable to get a flight from Savannah, he’d driven to Charlotte for the six thirty-five. At the airport he’d elaborated on the statement taken in Texas.
The old man had fled to protect his dog.
Like Kathryn, I thought, afraid for her baby.
“Did he say exactly what they intend to do?” I asked Ryan in a low whisper. The attendant demonstrated seat belts and oxygen.
Ryan shook his head. “The guy’s a zomboid. He was at the ranch because they gave him a place to stay and let him keep his dog. He wasn’t really tuned in to the credo, but he picked up enough.” The magazine dropped to his lap.
“He’s rambling on about cosmic energy and guardian angels and fiery inhalation.”
“Annihilation?”
Ryan shrugged. “He says the people he lives with don’t belong to this world. Seems they’ve been battling the forces of evil and now it’s time to go. Only he couldn’t bring Fido.”
“So he hid under the porch.”
Ryan nodded.
“Who are these forces of evil?”
“He’s not sure.”
“And he can’t say where the righteous are going?”
“North. Remember, Gramps is not at the top of the bell curve.”
“He’s never heard of Dom Owens?”
“No. His troop leader was someone named Toby.”
“No last name.”
“Last names are of this world. But that’s not who frightens him. Apparently Toby and the cocker got along. It’s some woman that scares the shit out of him.”
What had Kathryn said? “It’s not Dom. It’s her.” A face flashed in front of me.
“Who is she?”
