Chapter
16
The
Black Castle
Naperville
lay in front of them, a sprawling extension of Chicago along the Burlington
North Santa Fe Metro line, just thirty miles west of the city. Clisty could
easily see it was no longer the sleepy college town her grandmother had told
her about when she met her grandfather there as a college freshman. As she
watched the city stretch out its new streets, she wondered what it was like back
when her grandparents knew it. Now, red brick sidewalks and streets were
enchanting, like something out of an old movie she had seen on TV. Quaint old
buildings with overhanging bay windows blended with new stores like Barnes and
Noble Booksellers and a fancy Pizzeria with a festive red awning for dining on
the sidewalk. She took out her e-tablet and cleared her head by typing in the
mental notes she had taken earlier. There was no time for reminiscence.
“Who
knows something about Naperville?” Jake asked as he slowly wound through the
city streets.
“Nothing
really,” Clisty said as she watched for directional clues she knew would not
appear. “Faith never left the house and Pooky was outside for only two weeks.”
“We’re
wasting a lot of time wandering around. We might not get back to Indiana by the
six PM news,” Becca
reminded them. “I called North Central College on my cell and took them up on
their offer to let us use their studio. If we shoot a segment there, they can
send it on to WFT, and the station will air it when the six o’clock news hour
comes around.”
“Well,
okay, maybe,” Clisty grinned broadly. “But they’ll have to take me without
professional makeup on.”
“You
are beautiful all the time,” Jake patted her knee.
“I
have a little blush in my purse and I’m sure you have lipstick,” Becca offered.
“Where
is the college, Becca?” Jake asked.
“Well,
it’s one-hundred-fifty years old … so it would be in the original part of
town,” she offered as she continued to watch out the window. “They gave me the
address and I wrote it all down,” she watched the passing street signs. “Here …
turn here, Clint. This street sounds right. Let’s hurry. We don’t have much
time. Maybe they can give us some help on finding where The Guardian lives.”
They
stopped in front of the building that housed the television station and all
four hurried from the van. Clisty buttoned her jacket as the April breeze
caught it and blew it opened. Hurrying in, Becca led the way and introduced the
entourage to the station manager who was waiting for them.
“I’m
so happy you could help us today,” Clisty said as she followed the man into the
studio. She whipped out her lipstick and swished the brush to Becca’s blush
across her cheeks.
As
they approached the door to the studio, the phone on the station manager’s desk
rang. “Yes?” he asked into the receiver. “Oh, no.” Then he placed his hand over
the phone and spoke to Becca. “I am so sorry. There is a huge breaking story
that will have to take your spot in the studio.” He listened again and then
spoke into the phone, “Okay, we’ll send a crew out immediately.”
“What
happened?” Clisty asked.
“There
is a cult on the north side of the county, the Freedom Temple. Someone is
actively setting fires out there. According to witnesses who happened upon the
compound, new fires continue to ignite. They’re in various parts of the temple
and out-buildings.”
Clisty looked from Jake
to Becca. “The Freedom Temple is burning. The Guardian’s Lady could be in
danger. We have to get to her right away.”
All four of them put
their jackets back on and started for the door. Becca turned to the manager,
“Thank you so much for your generous offer. We certainly know how quickly the
news changes. The fire at the Freedom Temple may have put someone else at risk.
We’ll have to get to her fast. Please, feed the video you have of the fire to
our studios in Fort Wayne. We’ll share our information about Naperville’s
connection to Fort Wayne when we have it compiled. Okay?”
“Absolutely,” the manager
said as he shifted into breaking-story
mode and notified his people just as Clisty and the group went out the
door.
“Oh,” Clisty began as
if it were an after-thought, “do you know where the leader of the cult lives?”
“No,” the manager
answered as he hurried about the studio, “no one seems to know much about any
of them.”
“Thanks anyway,” Clisty
said as she waved.
“Okay, people,” Jake
announced. “Now where?”
“Pooky
said she watched children as they walked home from school. If that’s the case,
we’ve gone too far into Naperville,” Clisty began to realize. “We need to be on
that north side again.” Clisty touched her cell phone screen and brought up a
map of the north side. “We got detoured by our concern over the early newscast.”
“That’s
right,” Becca agreed. “The house can’t be too far from the school. Finding the
Freedom Temple out in the country led us away from the residential areas.”
“Somehow,
I thought the house would be an old Victorian because of the size,” Clisty felt
energized by getting back to the facts of the case. “But, it wouldn’t have to be.”
“That
Temple is a mansion. Why can’t The Guardian’s house be a large, new home in one
of the northern suburbs?” Becca jumped into the excitement of the hunt.
Clisty
searched the passing streets for a clue to the location. “It’s hiding in plain
sight.”
• • • • •
Jake
coasted the van up and down neighborhoods on the north side of town. They
trolled from street to street and subdivision to subdivision. “I hope no one
reports us for stalking,” Jake cracked.
Clint
offered a plausible excuse. “You can call it surveillance.”
“I
could if I carried a Naperville Police badge,” Jake said and then slowed to a
stop. “Look up there in the next block.”
“Where?”
Becca reached for the back of the front bucket seat and searched the block
ahead of them.
“Right
there,” Clisty whispered. Her voice caught in her throat. She wasn’t sure if
she was the hunter or the hunted. She had the persona of a victim hidden in the
secret corner of her mind. Most of the time she had been able to keep it locked
away from view. Faith’s return, the presence of the bank robber, and the voices
of the men at the Freedom Temple were too much for the guards at the gate of
her secret thoughts to keep her fears at bay.
Ahead
and to the right, a mammoth black stone edifice rose up out of the ground like
an ancient giant, imposing and menacing. The windows had some sort of opaque
coating that glowed black in the high day sun. Window wells beneath the
foundation revealed the obvious presence of a basement. “Complete with
dungeon,” Clisty gasped.
“First
and second floors, plus an attic,” Jake ticked off the enormity of it. “I’m
surprised it sits as close to the sidewalk as it does. Mansions usually hide
from traffic, back long paved driveways. This one would invite visitors, if it
weren’t so scary.”
“Jake,
look,” Clisty pointed. “Along the front fence at the end of the sidewalk,
there’s a rock garden, all polished and sparkling. Pooky said, ‘She would leave
a note for me under a rock near the end of our sidewalk.’ Jake, she gave us a
clue she wasn’t aware she had.” Then Clisty began to remember something else as
she pulled another fragment from what Pooky had said. “Leenie Lambert, 1221 W.
Benton Avenue.”
“The
cross street we just passed was W. Benton,” Jake said with a thumb pointing
back over his shoulder.
“What?”
Becca asked. “Benton and the rocks?”
“The
rocks at the end of the sidewalk. I have to investigate.” Clisty turned and
looked through the back window. “The coast is still clear. We’d better hurry
though. The Guardian can come at any time. He’s burning all bridges behind him.
His Lady may be his beloved wife, but my guess is, she’s totally expendable.”
“The
Guardian could get here as quickly as he set those fires. He may not even know
that we found him there. But, he seems to believe his cult-kingdom has been
threatened with exposure and he’s blaming his home situation,” Jake warned.
“Clint,
you get out and take your initial shots of the house from up the street at our
present location. Use the zoom lens in case there’s a chance of finding someone
in an open window or at the door,” Becca started setting camera angles
immediately.
Clint
got out and shouldered the camera. “The street is clear,” he observed. “You
guys get closer and I’ll start shooting from here. I’ll be able to capture your
approach to the house.”
Jake
rolled slowly toward the house, watching in every direction, windshield, back
and both side windows. He parked in front, where a short wrought iron fence
identified the property line. At the corner, the rocks piled on both sides,
inside and outside of the marked off area. “I know we look obvious from inside.
Even the neighbors can read our station number and logo plastered on the side
of the van. We can’t help it. If we have to run to the van, some of us may not be
able to keep up.”
“Hey,
Detective Skinny,” Becca corrected, “I can run just as fast as the rest of you.
I’ve been working out, ya know.”
“I’ll
jump out and check the rocks.” Clisty had the door open before anyone could
respond. She quickly looked up and down the rock garden that sparkled with an
occasional quartz stone. Bending down, she hurriedly lifted a three inch round
stone and slowly pulled a small piece of paper from beneath it, careful to
touch only the extreme corners.
Becca
and Jake got out and gathered around her. “What does it say?” they asked in
unison.
“Where
are you Pooky?” Clisty read. “Are you okay?” She handed the paper to Jake. “For
the evidence bag.”
Jake
pulled a small zip lock plastic bag from his shirt pocket and held it out for
Clisty to drop the paper in. “Good start,” he said but kept looking out the
back for any signs of danger. “Keep your eyes open.”
As
Clisty watched Jake zip the bag closed, she thought about Leenie Lambert, who
had wondered where Pooky had gone, just as she always wondered where the
kidnapper had taken Faith. “I don’t think I’ll close my eyes again until this
whole case is solved,” she pronounced.
“Now
what?” Clint asked as he walked up beside them as they stood by the rock
garden.
“Put
the camera in the van and take the segment inside the house, if we can get in, on
your smaller one.” Clisty suggested. “You’re a great cinematographer. You would
be able to get great video with a child’s toy camera.”
“Amen
to that,” Becca agreed. “Or his cell phone. We can’t waste any more time. The
neighbors will start wondering what a TV crew is doing on their safe, quiet
street. Soon, the Lady inside will see us and might even call her husband. She
doesn’t know that things have changed.”
“Okay,
let’s do this.” Clisty squared her shoulders, “We aren’t going to doubt
ourselves, or be nervous about anything. We’re the news and we’re getting our
story. We’re going right up to the front door,” Clisty stated with
determination.
They
all approached the home in silence as they surveyed the house with the heavy eight
foot front door. Clisty took the lead and lifted the brass knocker. Each looked
at the other as they waited with rehearsed calm, trying hard to control their
impatience.
“Yes?”
a tired looking, middle-aged woman said when she opened the door a few inches.
“Good
afternoon,” Clisty began slowly as she thought fast. “Is Joselyn home?”
The
woman’s eyes grew large as she closed the door to a crack. “How do you know
Joselyn?”
“We
talked one day ... in the back yard ...,” Clisty stammered as she tried to find
an answer that would sound plausible to the woman. “Ah ... I’m Clisty Sinclair.
We talked about my daughter, Leenie. She wants to find a time to play with
Pooky.”
“Pooky?”
the woman asked and opened the door a little more.
“I’m
in a bit of a hurry. My friend and I would love to come in your lovely home. I
... ah work for a TV station and we’ve considered a show in which we would tour
beautiful homes in the Midwest. Perhaps you would allow the cameras in here. May
we come in? I’d like to take a few notes, in case you think you might be
interested in the near future.”
“Well,
I don’t know,” she hesitated but slowly stood back and let them in. “I am very
proud of our home. But, I don’t know what my husband will say.” The entry and
grand staircase in front of them had flooring and treads of the same marble
that graced the floor of the Temple. A crystal chandelier hung suspended over
the foyer from the ceiling and reached the full height of the two stories. Clisty
marveled at the polish and shine on every surface, free from dust and smudges.
“Come
into the parlor,” the woman said. “You’re not going to film anything now are
you? I’ll have to ask my husband first.”
“Clint
left the big TV camera in the van,” Becca told her. “He does have a very small
one with him and he’ll probably get a few shots.”
Lady,
as Faith had called her, directed them to the large, thickly carpeted room to
the right of the entry hall. “Please take a seat,” she offered as she sank
heavily into an overstuffed chair beside the fireplace.
“I’m
Clisty Sinclair,” she introduced herself again, “and this is my producer and
director, Rebecca Landers. Clint usually handles the camera, and this is my
friend Jake Davis. I’m sorry, Ma’am,” Clisty began as she sat on the sofa. “I
have forgotten your name.”
“Emily
Treadway. That’s okay, I forget a lot, too.”
“You
and Dave have lived here ... “Clisty laid out a prompt for the next answer.
“No,
Ezra,” she corrected. “Not Dave.”
“Oh,
my goodness, I forgot again.” She apologized. “Of course ... Ezra. Is he home?
I haven’t met him yet.”
Emily’s
eyes darted back and forth, frightened, tense. “No, he’s not here. You can’t
meet him.”
“That’s
okay,” Clisty quickly answered and smiled calmly, hoping Emily would catch a
little of the peace for herself. “We first stopped at the Temple,” she began
cautiously, with no seeming concern.
“You
got inside the Temple?” the woman questioned. “How is that possible?”
“Everything
seemed fine to us,” she turned to the others. “Didn’t it? Calm, mostly quiet.”
“Oh
yes,” Jake said casually. “The front gate was open and welcomed us. The front
door, too.”
Clisty
continued as if there was no cause for worry or fear at all. “No one seemed to
be around though. At first we thought the place was empty.”
“Empty?”
Emily asked again.
“Then,
we heard a man talking, two others referred to him as The Guardian. They
sounded really angry. We didn’t stay long enough to hear all of what they were
yelling about,” Clisty said.
“You
said no one else was around? But, there should have been hundreds, all over the
church, the school and the grounds—janitors, secretaries, teachers ... and all
the children.” Emily’s brow creased in worry.
“I
remember, one of the men was shouting something about his wife leaving and
taking his son,” Becca offered.
“Which
one?” Tears formed in Emily’s eyes. “Oh ...” she moaned like one in grief.
“It’s all falling apart, isn’t it?”
“What
Emily? What’s falling apart?” Clisty hoped she wouldn’t frighten her. She
needed a lot more information.
“Everything.
Ezra said it might happen someday. He said ... if someone escapes ... if the
truth gets out, it’ll all fall like building blocks.” Wiping tears from her
eyes, she asked, “Who, who got out?”
What
should she say? Clisty had run out of pretenses. “Emily ... Joselyn got out.”
“You
know where Joselyn is?” The woman drew her shaking fingers to her lips. “Tell
me. I won’t tell Ezra.”
“We
can take you there if you want to go with us,” Jake offered. “But, we’d
probably better hurry. Clisty has a deadline.”
“I’ll
have to call Ezra and ask permission to leave the house,” she responded with a
timid, mousey voice. “I don’t go anywhere without asking first.”
“Would
you like to see Joslyn and Pooky?’ Clisty asked.
“Pooky
too? Yes, yes!”
“I’m
sorry, Emily,” she added. “Joslyn and Pooky don’t want to see Ezra, absolutely
not!” She looked into Emily’s eyes with a firm and resolute gaze. “And, we‘d
better get going.”
“All
right, yes,” Emily rattled on excitedly yet confused. “Let me remember. Ezra
said if there’s ever any trouble, I should get out and take all the papers with
me.”
“What
papers?” Jake asked. “Are they easy to get to? We’ve gotta leave.”
“They’re
in Ezra’s office, in his safe.”
“In
his safe?” Clisty asked. Her eyes flashed to Jake’s for silent confirmation.
“They must be really important.”
“Yes,
they’re the Temple records, financial papers and our own personal finances,”
she shared openly as she led the way into the office. “He said no one should
get their hands on any of it.”
Emily
Treadway led the way from the living room to the elegant office, in the next
room off the main entry. The large black safe sat inside a closet in the walnut
paneled room. Everything about the space revealed Ezra’s desire for control and
power. Emily spun the dial carefully to the right and to the left several times,
then pulled the handle down and opened it. The black, heavy steal-plated box
was stuffed full of folders, portfolios, record ledgers, and papers. She pulled
them all out, handed the tall stack to Jake and then reached to the back of the
safe.
“Ezra
said to be sure that I take every piece of gold and silver, every bank account
book, and each off-shore banking record. My jewels are in the back.” She pulled
it all out. “I can’t forget all of our credit cards and the passports.” She
grabbed a large black leather valise from the cabinet next to the safe and
piled it all inside.
“Let’s
get out of here, now,” Jake ordered.
“Wait,
I’d better count,” Emily said as she reached into the case. “Ezra would be
furious ...” she looked at Clisty, “... and he could be dangerous if I don’t
have them all.”
Clisty
smiled and tried to move her along with her hand to Emily’s elbow. “I
understand. Let’s hurry.”
Emily
pulled out five passport folders, and double counted. “Yes, three for Ezra and
two for me.”
Clisty
and Jake just looked at each other, nodded and helped Emily with all the materials.
Move, move, move, Clisty kept
repeating to herself.
Becca
picked up an armload of ledger books and as many loose papers as she could
hold. “I’ve got these,” she spoke out loud to those around her.
“Lock
the safe again, Emily,” Clisty reminded her. “Straighten everything up quickly.”
Emily
closed the safe, made sure everything was off the floor, and double checked
again. When she seemed satisfied that she had taken care of everything as her
husband would want her to, they all hurried out the front door and onto the
porch.
“You’d
better lock the door,” Jake warned. “You can’t be too careful.”
Clisty
knew the closed safe and locked door would slow Ezra for a few minutes. Perhaps
he wouldn’t suspect anything if all seemed in order. At least, it might stall
him long enough for them to get out of sight before he realized what had
happened.
Hoping
to seem causal, Becca opened the double doors in the back of the van and all
the papers were quickly stowed. They walked around to the side doors and piled
in. Jake drove; Clisty rode beside him with the other three in the back. Jake
didn’t slam the van into gear or squeal the tires as he pulled away from the
curb. He turned the key in the ignition, looked over his shoulder and slowly
eased the van into the street. He wanted no eyes on them. To anyone who might
have seen them, it would look like a small group of friends on an afternoon
outing—no hurry, no worry.
Once
the van began to roll, every head inside the vehicle turned and watched the
street behind them. Jake drove the speed limit and kept his eye on the rearview
mirror. Hushed tones revealed the tension in the van that no one admitted. As
they slowly turned the corner onto W. Devon Avenue, at the next cross street,
an expensive SUV drove rapidly into the Treadway driveway. A man jumped out and
nearly stumbled as he hurried toward the door. He didn’t test the doorknob
first. He tried to jam the key in the lock with shaking hands. Then, he dashed
inside.
Emily
stared out the window and gasped loudly as she and all those in the van
disappeared around the corner. “He’s back!”
