"You've been inside. You think there's a potential for mass suicide?"
"I don't know. But think of what you said earlier. What if the killer is just someone who might have passed through the cult and is no longer here? The FBI will want the cult's cooperation in identifying people who came to their meetings. Invading their compound is not going to endear them to the FBI and make them want to cooperate."
Isaac was silent. Andie checked the doors again at the end of the corridor. Through the little diamond-shaped window she could see Felicia coming down the aisle. This was taking too long. "Just give me forty-eight more hours. And give it to me now, before they catch me on the phone."
He was thinking. Andie's heart pounded as Felicia neared the doors. "Isaac, please."
"All right, you got it."
"Thank you. Gotta go." She slammed down the phone and started walking toward the doors just as they swung open.
"There you are," said Felicia.
Chapter Fifty-Nine.
Beth lay alone in the darkness. It was a helpless feeling, but she had learned not top ound on the walls or scream for help. That kind of behavior would only get her handcuffed and gagged. One night she had carried on so long he had revoked her lights-on privileges. Two days of total darkness, including meals and bathroom breaks. She guessed it was two days, based on the number of meals she had eaten. With no clock or windows there was no way to be sure.
Good behavior did seem to have its rewards. The lights used to come on only during each meal and bathroom break. Now she seemed to get a grace period before and after. Once, she had even been allowed outdoors to work at the chicken coop, albeit not without the electronic belt locked around her torso. It worked like those invisible fences for dogs, only this one would hit her like a stun gun if she got too close to the electrified boundaries. It had been good to get outdoors, though the farm had been strangely deserted that day. Almost everyone was away, perhaps on a retreat. Beth knew about retreats. It was how she'd gotten caught up in the first place.
In hindsight, it was easy to understand the initial appeal of Blechman's philosophy. She had been tired of wasting her energy trying to put the magic back in her marriage. It was like an echo, intense at first, then fading over time. It was as if each anniversary were just another hollow ring in the distance, each one a little weaker and farther from the source, until it was completely inaudible, nothing left. The idea of redirecting her energy and changing her level of vibration had been a revelation. She was revitalized for a time that included many a day-long visit to the farm when Gus was out of town. On the positive side, they had helped her identify and talk out her anxieties. Ultimately, however, she and her mentors came to a bitter disagreement over the root cause. They saw it as a huge problem, but she didn't see it as a problem at all.
She still loved Gus.
The way they wanted Beth to handle that problem was something she could never bring herself to do. The result was solitary confinement. She wasn't getting much direction from the leaders, but she assumed the idea was to isolate her from worldly influences until she channeled her energy properly. All of this time alone, however, had only separated her further from their way of thinking. With no one to talk to, she conjured up pleasant images from her past. Morgan was a frequent subject. There was quite a lot of Gus and the way they used to be. Had they read her mind, her mentors would have been furious.
Today her thoughts were not so pleasant. Almost against her own will, certain sounds were replaying in her mind. They revolved around the nightly ritual she had come to dread so much. She blocked out the ones that frightened her--the woman on tape, the sounds of his enjoyment. Instead, she focused on things that confused her. In particular, the sounds of his leaving.
In her mind, she could hear him rise from the chair and switch off the television. Hear him cross the room and open the door. The door shutting and locking from the outside. Those were the sounds she had heard every night. Last night, however, something had been missing. There had been a break in the routine. She didn't hear that familiar hydraulic sound of the VCR ejecting the videotape. She focused harder, this time on his arrival. Come to think of it, she hadn't heard him insert the videotape either. And it wasn't just last night. It had happened on the last several nights, at least. That explained the mechanical whining upon his arrival, the sounds of the tape rewinding.
For some reason, he had been leaving the tape in the VCR.
It could have been an oversight on his part, but that was unlikely. Very little happened on the farm without a purpose. If he was leaving the tape in the VCR, it was for a reason. There was only one she could imagine.