Читать книгу Manhunt On Mystic Mesa - Cindi Myers - Страница 11

Chapter Three

Daniel Metwater and his followers had set up camp in a shady grove near a freshwater spring at the base of Mystic Mesa. Ryan parked his cruiser next to a dilapidated pickup, and Ethan slid his vehicle in next to Ryan’s. “I don’t see anything,” Jana said, climbing out of Ryan’s vehicle and looking around. Though the sun was slipping toward the horizon, casting long shadows from the trees and boulders, there was still plenty of daylight left this time of year.

“It’s up in the trees through here.” Ethan pointed to a narrow path into the underbrush. He led the way, with Jana following and Ryan bringing up the rear.

They had only walked about ten yards when a shirtless man with blond dreadlocks stepped out in front of them. He carried a heavy wooden staff, which would have made an effective weapon. He took in the two uniformed officers and scarcely glanced at Jana, then settled on Ethan. “Is there a problem, Officer?” he asked.

“We have some questions for Mr. Metwater,” Ethan said, and started to move past him.

Blondie stepped in front of them, holding the stick across his body. “I’m not supposed to let anyone into camp without permission?” His voice rose in a question at the end of the sentence and he looked doubtful.

“This badge means we don’t need permission.” Ethan stepped toward him again. Blondie glanced at Ryan, then moved off the path. The two officers and Jana filed by and entered a clearing around which were clustered a ragtag collection of tents, trailers and makeshift shacks. A dozen or more adults, most of them young women, and half-a-dozen small children milled around the area.

A tall man with a sharp, intelligent face looked up from a conversation with an attractive pregnant woman. Dark curls framed classically handsome features, but a scowl wrinkled his brow, and at the sight of the newcomers, everyone around him and the woman shrank away. “Hello, Mr. Metwater.” Ethan addressed him. “Ms. Mattheson.”

“Asteria, you may wait for me in the motor home,” Metwater said. Ryan realized the blonde must be Andi Mattheson. According to the information Simon had given him, she was the daughter of a former senator and perhaps Daniel Metwater’s most famous disciple. Without a second glance at the visitors, she slipped away.

“I thought we had reached an understanding that the Rangers were not to harass me and my family anymore,” Metwater said. “Or did my attorneys not make that clear enough?”

Ryan pulled out his phone, woke it to display the photo of Jennifer Lassiter and turned the screen toward Metwater. “Have you seen this woman?” he asked.

Metwater peered at the image and shook his head. “No. Who is she?”

“How about this one?” Ryan scrolled to a photo of Alicia Mendoza.

“No.” Metwater folder his arms over his muscular chest. “What is this about?”

“Do the names Jennifer Lassiter or Alicia Mendoza mean anything to you?”

Instead of answering, Metwater turned to Jana. “Who are you?” he asked. “You don’t look like a cop.”

“I’m Jana Lassiter,” she said, pale but composed. “Jennifer Lassiter is my sister. She disappeared yesterday, from the archaeological dig near here.”

Metwater turned back to the officers. “So of course you think I had something to do with this woman’s disappearance, even though I’ve never met her or even heard of her.”

Before Ryan or Ethan could speak, Jana stepped between them and Metwater. “Jenny had your blog bookmarked on her computer,” she said. “She had been reading it right before she disappeared. We were hoping she came here to meet you.”

Metwater’s expression softened, and Ryan had a sense of the kind of charm that might persuade people that he had the answers they were seeking. “I’m sorry I can’t help you,” he said. “I never met your sister.” He turned to the Rangers. “What about this other woman? Was she a fan of mine, also? I have many people who are interested in the message I have to share, but my aim is to help, not harm.”

“Alicia Mendoza also disappeared very near here,” Ethan said. “She was traveling through the area with a group of illegal immigrants. It’s possible she became lost and sought refuge in your camp.”

“Many things are possible,” Metwater said. “But she never came here.”

“What about Easy? Has he been around lately?” Ethan asked.

Ryan had to think a moment to remember who Ethan was referring to. Some notes from an earlier interview with the women in Metwater’s camp had mentioned someone named Easy who had been seen with Lucia Raton when she left the Family’s camp.

“I haven’t seen him, no,” Metwater said. “He’s not a member of the Family.”

“But he hangs out here sometimes, we understand,” Ethan said.

“I don’t require visitors to sign in and out.”

“So it’s possible Alicia Mendoza or Jennifer Lassiter were here and you didn’t know about it,” Ryan said.

“It’s possible,” Metwater said. “But not probable.” He glared at them, defiant.

“If you hear anything about either woman—or about Easy—please let us know,” Ethan said.

“We avoid mixing with the outside world as much as possible,” Metwater said.

“Yet you welcome new members.” Ryan looked around the camp—there didn’t seem to be a shortage of people who wanted to join Metwater’s group, despite the primitive living conditions.

“People come to me seeking a retreat from the false atmosphere of so-called civilized life,” Metwater said.

Ryan eyed the motor home parked at the far edge of the clearing. The gleaming RV sported a solar array on the roof and was large enough to comfortably accommodate several people. While some of the Prophet’s followers were roughing it, the man himself lived in wilderness luxury.

Metwater noticed the direction of Ryan’s gaze. “I left a life of privilege to find a better way,” he said. “The fact that my message resonates with so many people should tell you I preach the truth.”

Plenty of charlatans and con artists managed to charm untold number of hapless victims. Until Ryan saw evidence to the contrary, he would assume Metwater fell into that camp.

“Mr. Metwater does speak the truth, at least about his background.”

Ryan turned toward the new voice that had addressed them. “Hello officers, Jana,” Eric Patterson said. “I was wondering when you would get around to showing up here.”

* * *

“WHAT ARE YOU doing here?” Jana stared at the reporter. Had he decided to investigate Jenny’s disappearance on his own? Or was her sister’s supposed fiancé a member of Metwater’s group?

“I invited him,” Daniel Metwater said. “Eric is my special guest.”

Eric’s smile echoed Metwater’s own. Jana thought they looked like two politicians posing for a photo op, their grins too large and not quite reaching their eyes. “I’m writing a profile of the Prophet for my paper,” the reporter said. “We’re privileged to have a figure of such national interest living in our area.”

Jana glanced at Metwater. Was he really of national interest? She had certainly never heard of him, but then, she wasn’t searching for meaning in her life or lost with nowhere to go, or any of the other things Ryan had said attracted people to this remote camp. And neither was Jenny.

Maybe one of Jenny’s friends had told her about Metwater, and she had been reading his blog out of curiosity. Jenny was always interested in new things, but that didn’t mean she had decided to follow this false prophet into the wilderness.

“I thought you avoided mixing with the outside world,” Ryan said. “Or don’t newspapers count?”

“It’s another way to spread his message,” Eric said before Metwater could answer.

“I guess it’s another way to solicit financial contributions, too.” Ryan’s eyes met Jana’s, as if they shared an inside joke, and a jolt of pleasure shot through her. She did feel as if she and this cop were allies, that she wasn’t alone in her longing to have Jenny returned to her safely.

“Cynics like you scoff, but I could tell you a dozen stories of people whose lives have been changed by my message,” Metwater said.

“And I want to hear all of them,” Eric said.

“Mr. Patterson,” Jana began.

“Please, call me Eric,” he said. “After all, we’re practically related.”

Jana clenched her teeth to keep from telling him they were definitely not related. She couldn’t understand what Jenny saw in this man, but until her sister could confide in her, better to hold her tongue. “Did you know Jenny followed Mr. Metwater’s blog?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said. “Her interest in the Prophet led me to pitch his story to my editor.” He turned to Metwater. “I’m only sorry my fiancée isn’t here to meet you. She is a great admirer of yours.”

“The loss is mine,” Metwater said.

“You’re sure Jenny never came here on her own or with you?” Ethan asked.

“I’m positive,” Eric said. “We planned to come here together.”

“Maybe she got curious, and knowing Metwater and his followers were camped so close, she decided to check things out on her own,” Ryan said.

“I already told you, she hasn’t been here,” Metwater said.

“You told us the same thing about Lucia Raton,” Ethan said. “Then we found out later she had been to see you.”

Metwater pressed his lips together, but said nothing more.

“Jenny wouldn’t have come here without me,” Eric said. “We had planned to go together and she wouldn’t dishonor those plans.”

“What does honor have to do with it?” Jana asked, unable to contain her exasperation. “If Jenny wanted to do something, she did it. She didn’t need your permission.”

“Since you don’t live here and aren’t a part of Jenny’s everyday life, you don’t understand how close the two of us are,” Eric said. “She wanted to share new experiences with me. When you truly love someone, doing things without them isn’t as satisfying.”

His patronizing tone set her teeth on edge. “Since when does getting engaged to someone mean you’re joined at the hip?” she muttered.

“Now that we’ve established that you’re wasting your time questioning me or my followers, I have an interview to conduct.” Metwater put a hand on Eric’s shoulder.

“We haven’t established anything,” Ryan said. But Metwater and Eric had already turned away.

Ryan started toward the pair, but Ethan stopped him. “We’ll get back to those two later. In the meantime, let’s talk to a few of the faithful.” He nodded to Jana. “Mingle with the women and see what you can find out. Even if these people didn’t have anything to do with your sister’s disappearance, they might have seen or heard something.”

“All right.”

The two officers moved away, leaving her standing by herself. She tried to ignore the nervous flutter in her stomach and headed toward a group of women who stood in front of a large white tent near the motor home. At her approach, they all turned as if to retreat into the tent. “Please, don’t leave,” she called out. “I’m not a police officer. I just want to talk to you.”

“You’re with the police.” A severe-looking woman with curly brown hair addressed her in a scolding tone. “You want to hassle us, the way they always do.”

“I don’t want to hassle anyone,” Jana said. “I’m only trying to find my sister.” She turned her phone toward them to show a recent photograph she had taken of Jenny, who was smiling broadly and looked so young and happy and alive. It didn’t seem real that she could have simply vanished.

“We don’t know her,” the pregnant blonde who had been with Metwater when Jana and the others had arrived in camp said, not unkindly. “We can’t help you.”

“The archaeological dig where she worked is very close to here,” Jana said. “Did you know anyone else from there?”

The women exchanged glances. “We didn’t know anyone,” the oldest of the trio, with white-blond hair and pale eyes said.

“But you know something about them you’re not telling me,” Jana said. She hadn’t missed the significance of the look between them.

“We visited them a few times,” the pretty blonde said. “They showed us some of the pottery shards and other artifacts they found.”

“Who showed you?” Jana asked.

“Not your sister,” the brown-haired woman said. “We never talked to her.”

Jana slumped, trying to hide her disappointment.

“We saw her, though,” the older woman said. “She was with that reporter.”

“Eric?” Jana asked.

“Yeah. That one.” The brown-haired woman’s sour expression left little doubt of her opinion of Eric Patterson. “They were arguing. Pretty loudly, too.”

“What were they arguing about?” Jana asked.

The pretty blonde shook her head. “We couldn’t tell, but she was pretty upset. At one point she shoved him.”

“What did he do?” Jana asked.

“Nothing,” the blonde said. “He was pretty calm about the whole thing, but she was really worked up.”

“Did you overhear anything at all?” Jana asked. “Could you guess what she was upset about?”

All three women shook their heads. “They were standing too far away,” the older woman said.

“I saw her one other time,” the brown-haired woman said. “I went by myself a few weeks ago to try to sell some stuff I had found to the head guy.”

“What kind of stuff?” Jana asked.

“Some arrowheads and spear points, but he said the items I had weren’t worth anything. A woman who looked a lot like the picture you showed us was with him when I got there. They looked pretty friendly.” She smirked.

“What do you mean, ‘friendly’?” Jana asked.

“They were kissing,” the brown-haired woman said. “Going at it pretty hot and heavy, too,” she said. “When I showed up they broke it off and the girl hurried away.”

“But I’m sure Professor Eddleston is married,” Jana said, trying to absorb this new information.

“He was wearing a ring,” the brown-haired woman said. “So maybe instead of thinking the Prophet had anything to do with your sister’s disappearance, you should check out her professor’s wife.”