Lena Jones 02 - Desert Wives

Beehive County and we can’t get anybody to do anything about it. Now tell me, Lena, let’s say you dismiss Jepson Smith’s drivel about freedom of religion. Think you can come up with the real reason government officials are playing the hands-off game with the polygamists?”
    I remembered Sheriff Benson’s excuse. “Polygamy is considered a victimless crime, is that it?”
    Leo laughed, but the sound wasn’t pretty. He was a man with a mission, all right. “Oh, that’s the official excuse, but remember the money, Lena, always remember the money. Those polygamy prophets are rich men and we suspect they’ve spread a few dollars around to avoid prosecution.”
    I frowned. “Do you have any proof?”
    He shook her head. “Nope. Getting the proof is
your
job. You’re the detective.”
    I threw up my hands. “Whoa! I’m not the U.S. Attorney General. What you’re describing here could range anywhere from graft to organized crime.”
    Leo’s face was grim. “Exactly.”

Chapter 6
    Virginia disappeared into the kitchen and directed the cook to serve us an early dinner on the back patio, that secluded little spot so dear to the randy Frenchman. In the distance, the red pillars of Zion National Park flamed with the late afternoon light. I heard the chi-ci-go-go of quail as they scurried through the underbrush, the cooing of doves from the nearby grove of sycamore. The chatter of tourists gathered around the big fireplace only now and then penetrated the pine-scented air.
    “Boy, I sure don’t get cornbread like this at home,” said Saul Berkhauser, the Lawlers’ dinner guest. A retired contractor, Saul appeared to be in his seventies and sported a weathered face so deeply lined it could have served as a plat map for the Grand Canyon. Yet his voice contained the energy of a much younger man.
    “I’ve been living at Purity for eight years now, and believe me, that’s eight years too long,” he said, waving away an inquisitive fly. “Still, I’m staying until they run me off.”
    He shoveled another wedge of crumbly cornbread into his mouth with the fervor of a man who hadn’t been cooked for in a long time. I was amused until I looked down at my plate and realized I had done exactly the same thing. The high desert did wonders for the appetite.
    Although the sun was still a good two hours away from setting, the day had already begun to cool. Fortunately, the glowing outdoor fireplace on the patio kept us warm as Saul related the series of events that led to his involvement with the polygamists. He explained that the death of his wife several years earlier had left him feeling adrift. Seeking a cure for the empty place inside, he embarked upon a religious pilgrimage.
    “I tried Buddhism, the New Age stuff, and once I even showed up at a Catholic mass,” he said, waving his fork like a schoolroom pointer. “Nothing rang my chimes.
    “Then one night I went down to the local senior center where Prophet Solomon was giving a talk. He started off by talking about the skyrocketing crime rates, the escalation of drugs, disintegrating families, and children who didn’t honor their elders. Since my kids couldn’t be bothered visiting me as much as I thought they should, he pushed all my buttons.”
    Saul crammed more cornbread into his mouth, then followed it with a huge bite of honey-baked ham. His eyes closed momentarily in pleasure. Before speaking again, he helped himself to another slab of ham and placed it carefully in the center of his plate, where he gazed at it lovingly.
    “I didn’t move to Purity to marry some little teenager, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he finally continued. “I just wanted to find a community I could be a part of, and yes, maybe a willing woman who’d help me start a new family to replace the one I’d lost. No fool like an old fool, right?”
    “And a common story,” Leo agreed. “But you eventually redeemed yourself, didn’t you?”
    “How?” I asked.
    Now it was Virginia’s turn to speak. “Saul showed up here once in the middle of the night, bringing these two little scared things wrapped in blankets. Just kids! Maybe fourteen, fifteen at the most. They was about to be married to Solomon’s brother, and they didn’t want any part of it.”
    Saul nodded. “Yeah, that was a wild night. If those guys at the compound ever find out it was me that helped those girls get away, my ass’ll be grass and they’ll be the lawnmower.”
    Which was why his