Lena Jones 02 - Desert Wives

smile.
    “Brother Noah is our departed Prophet Solomon’s grandson, Sister Lena,” Saul explained to me. “Treat him with the deference he deserves.”
    “Of course, husband,” I murmured, allowing myself another quick peek at Brother Noah, only to find to my horror that Saul’s leer had been matched by Noah’s. The younger man’s leer was the real deal, though, and as his watery eyes raked my body, he stopped just short of outright drooling. Apparently a man’s lust wasn’t considered a sin in Purity.
    Noah finally turned away and began chatting with one of the other men. Saul took the opportunity to whisper into my ear, “Don’t ever get caught alone with Noah. He once shot Solomon’s dog just because it barked at him. The fact that it was his granddaddy’s favorite dog didn’t bother him one bit. ”
    I made a mental note to find out where Noah had been the night of Prophet Solomon’s murder. Maybe Solomon had given his trigger-happy grandson a talking to and the ugly little hothead had killed him on the spot.
    Saul shared a few words with an elderly man who bore an uncanny resemblance to a department store Santa Claus. His round, cherry-red nose peeked out from between snowy brows, and a lush white beard framed a cherry, sunburnt face. Santa’s eyes, though, appeared vacant.
    “Brother Jacob, I hope you’re feeling better?” Saul asked politely.
    “The Lord judges us from Highest Heaven and sends down blessings as well as vengeance,” the old man responded, his voice holding no inflection. “We shrivel under His mighty gaze.”
    The other men fell into an uncomfortable silence, but Saul nodded in perfect seriousness, as if such Biblical pronouncements were the normal response to enquiries about health. “Yes, Brother Jacob, the Lord is a mighty Judge.”
    To me, Saul whispered, “Brother Jacob Waldman hasn’t felt too good lately.”
    Jacob Waldman. Esther’s father, the other witness to the argument between Esther and Prophet Solomon. I studied the old man’s face more closely, trying to remember where I had seen that ain’t-nobody-home look before. Then it came back to me. I’d once investigated a Scottsdale nursing home which had shown an unusually high death rate among its patients. The home specialized in the care of Alzheimer’s disease.
    A large man thrust himself in front of Jacob. I recognized Earl Graff.
    “Brother Saul, I told you the Circle of Elders hasn’t yet voted to sanctify the marriage to your new woman,” he said, his face shaking in outrage. “Don’t you think you should hold off bringing her into Prophet Davis’s house until then? To bring an unhallowed woman into a prophet’s house is a defilement.”
    The other men looked at each other, cleared their throats, and more or less tried to pretend they hadn’t heard the insult, but Saul refused to be intimidated. “Since when would following the Lord’s wishes be a defilement? It seems to me, Brother Earl, that you’re attempting to place the Circle’s desires above the Lord’s.”
    Earl’s face turned as red as his hair. “You’re not a member of the Circle and you have no right to…”
    Just then the door opened, and Purity’s new prophet stepped out on the porch. “My, my, brothers,” he boomed, his voice resonant as a televangelist’s. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think that I heard voices raised in anger. And right outside a prophet’s front door, no less!”
    Although I’d seen him earlier, I couldn’t help but stare at him. On Prophet Davis, even the orange, high-necked shirt he’d changed into looked terrific.
    “And who do we have here?” Prophet Hunk said to me, his amazing eyes crinkling with humor. He’d obviously recovered from his earlier near escape.
    I lowered my head again and stared fiercely at the porch’s redwood floorboards.
    “Prophet Davis, this is my new wife, Sister Lena.” A note of anxiety crept into Saul’s voice. Davis certainly had an interesting effect on people, both female
and
male.
    Davis’s large, warm hand, free of calluses, engulfed my own. “Welcome, Sister Lena. The Church of the Prophet Fundamental is brightened by your glowing presence.”
    So help me I almost tittered. But I contained myself and looked modestly up at him. “Thank you, Prophet Davis. I seek only to serve the Lord and my husband.”
    Another large hand clasped mine as the Prophet delivered a caress thinly disguised as a handshake.
    “Prophet Davis, their marriage