KnockOut - Catherine Coulter [130]
“Two months later we bought the old tobacco farm some twenty miles down the road, using his mother’s name. It served for a while, but I feared the assassins would find me. We decided to build my beautiful temple. As you know, money is never an issue in any decision I make.
“You know that my family is extraordinary. You’ve seen what Grace and Blessed can do.” Theodore’s face spasmed and his breathing hitched. He began to breathe too fast. He nearly rose out of his chair as he shouted at Ethan, “My poor Grace, my poor Shepherd! What have you done to my family?” Theodore’s thin chest heaved. For a moment, Ethan thought he was ill.
After a moment, the old man settled himself back onto his throne. “Caldicot already believed he could read some people’s minds on occasion. When he saw Blessed and Grace he was, of course, astounded. He is an ambitious man, and I convinced him he could achieve whatever he wanted if he joined with me.
“And so he did. Whistler is a Harvard man. He brings us fervent, eager people, thrilled that I will teach them.”
“Caldicot said you haven’t found another gifted person as yet.”
“No, not as yet, but tomorrow Caldicot is leaving for Denver to see a gentleman who professes to foresee the future. We will see.”
Ethan said, “So tell me again why people come to this big white concrete vault?”
Theodore waved a veiny old hand. “Enough! Look around you, Sheriff. My sanctuary is magnificent. My holdings are large here, and my children can explore the woods with me as much as they wish. Why would they not wish to stay?”
Ethan looked around the large, completely white room, the beautiful Impressionist paintings on the wall. Was that a Monet? There was a beautiful antique Persian carpet under the old man’s sandaled feet.
It was a gem, this room, save for a ridiculous dais with its golden throne at the center. “You build underground to hide from the Mafia?”
Theodore said, “In part. I feared I would not be so lucky twice. There were other reasons. When you are nearly beaten to death for being who you are, Sheriff, you think about what that means. I left the business of gathering earthly wealth to my sons, and I was free to read and to contemplate, to think about the gifts we Backmans have been given, and the history of others like us. I came to believe my nearly being beaten to death had a purpose—indeed, that I have a purpose, a mission, to find others like us and to build our own community away from our murderers, a community of the elect.”
“‘A community of the elect’?” Ethan raised a brow. “I don’t see that Caldicot has any extraordinary powers. And all these people here, are they being taught something, or are they being used? You have gathered so much money and power by putting your sons to use that you can convince these people to do just about anything, at least for a while. How long do people stay here, Mr. Backman? How long before they realize there is nothing here for them?”
“Are you quite done, Sheriff? I don’t care for your sarcasm. This is where I choose to be. I’m safe here, and I come and go as I please. That old barn is set a good half-mile from the county road, a road that few drive.”
“If everyone here is free to leave, then why did Autumn see your family burying people in the family cemetery?”
The old man’s eyes held a momentary look of regret, and then he let it go. “Two of our visitors—not worthy of us, a rare mistake by Caldicot—threatened to expose us unless we paid them. It was a grave decision, not arrived at easily, but they were not as important as Twilight. I had to protect our secrecy, no matter what. Kjell had to remove them, unfortunately. It has been a difficult time for me, Sheriff.”
“And just how did Grace and Blessed find Autumn?”
“Ah, that was a simple matter for Caldicot. He is a clever man. He knew Joanna lived in Boston. All he had to do was look up my poor Martin’s obituary, and there was her maiden name. With that and what she and Autumn had