“Remember, friends!” commanded Jeremiah.

“Remember!” the congregation responded in unison.

He descended the steps from the stage and walked calmly toward the waiting police officers. As he moved up the aisle, past his stunned followers, the sound of weeping filled the hall. Yet Jeremiah’s expression was not mournful; what Jane saw on his face was triumph. He had planned and orchestrated this confrontation, a scene that would be played and replayed on TVs across the country. The humble prophet walking with quiet dignity toward his tormentors. He’s won this round, she thought. Maybe he’s even won the war itself. How would a jury convict him when he was the one who looked like a victim?

He came to a stop in front of MacAfee and raised his hands, meekly offering up his wrists to be cuffed. The symbolism could not be more blatant. MacAfee obliged, and the clack of the metal was shockingly loud.

“Will you exterminate us all?” Jeremiah asked.

“Give it a rest,” MacAfee retorted.

“You know very well I had nothing to do with what happened in Kingdom Come.”

“That’s what we’ll find out.”

“Will you? I don’t think you want the truth. Because you’ve already chosen your villain.” Head held high, Jeremiah walked the gantlet of police officers. But as he neared the exit, he suddenly halted, his gaze riveted on Cathy Weiss. Slowly his lips curved into a smile of recognition. “Katie Sheldon,” he said softly. “You’ve come back to us.”

Jane frowned at Cathy, whose face had gone frighteningly pale. “But you told me Katie Sheldon was your friend,” Jane said.

Cathy didn’t seem to hear Jane, but kept her gaze on Jeremiah. “This time it ends,” Cathy said softly.

“Ends?” He shook his head. “No, Katie, this only makes us stronger. In the eyes of the public, I’m a martyr.” He regarded her windblown hair, her haggard face, and the look he gave her was almost pitying. “I see the world has not been kind to you. What a shame you ever left us.” He smiled as he turned to leave. “But we must all move on.”

“Jeremiah!” Cathy suddenly stepped behind him, her arms thrust out in front of her. Only then did Jane see what she was clutching in both hands.

“Cathy, no!” yelled Jane. In an instant she had her own weapon out. “Drop it. Drop the gun, Cathy!”

Jeremiah turned and calmly regarded the weapon that was now pointed at his chest. If he felt any fear at all, he did not show it. Through the pounding of her own heart, Jane heard gasps in the pews and frantic footsteps as the congregation scrambled for cover. She had no doubt that a dozen police weapons were now drawn and pointed as well. But Jane’s gaze stayed glued on Cathy. On the raw, wind-chapped hands now clutching the gun. Though any cop in that room could have fired on her, no one did. They all stood paralyzed by the prospect of taking down this young woman. We never imagined she’d be armed. Why would we?

“Cathy, please,” Jane said quietly. She was standing closest to the woman. Almost close enough to reach out and take the gun, if only Cathy would hand it to her. “This doesn’t solve anything.”

“But it does. This ends it.”

“That’s what the courts are for.”

“The courts?” Cathy’s laugh was bitter. “They won’t touch him. They never have.” Her grip tightened, and the barrel tilted higher, yet Jeremiah did not flinch. His gaze remained serene, almost amused.

“You see, my friends?” he called out. “This is what we face. Irrational anger and hatred.” He gave a sad shake of the head and looked at Cathy. “I think it’s clear to everyone here that you need help, Katie. I feel only love for you. That’s all I’ve ever felt.” Once again, he turned to leave.

“Love?” Cathy whispered. “Love?”

Jane saw the tendons in Cathy’s wrist snap taut. Saw the woman’s fingers tighten, yet her own reflexes refused to kick in. Her hands froze around her weapon.

The blast of Cathy’s gun sent a bullet flying into Jeremiah’s back. He lurched forward and stumbled to his knees.

The room exploded in gunfire. Cathy’s body jerked and twitched as a hail of police bullets punched into her flesh. Her weapon thudded to the floor and she went sprawling. She landed facedown beside the body of Jeremiah Goode.

“Cease fire!” shouted MacAfee.

There were two final, stuttering shots, and then silence fell.

Jane dropped to her knees beside Cathy. From the congregation came a woman’s wail, a high and eerie keening that did not even sound human. Now others joined in, a chorus of shrieks that soon became deafening as hundreds of voices cried out in grief for their fallen prophet. No one mourned Cathy Weiss. No one called out her name. Only Jane, kneeling on the bloody floor, was leaning in close enough to stare into the woman’s eyes. Only Jane saw the light in those eyes fade out as her soul tumbled away.

“Murderer!” someone screamed. “She’s a Judas!”

Jane looked at the body of Jeremiah Goode. Even in death, he was smiling.

36

HER BIRTH NAME WAS KATIE SHELDON,” SAID JANE, AS SHE AND Maura drove toward Jackson. “At age thirteen, she became one of Jeremiah’s so-called spiritual brides, expected to submit herself completely to his desires. For six years, she belonged to him. But somehow, she managed to pull together the courage to escape. And she fled The Gathering.”

“That’s when she changed her name?” asked Maura.

Jane nodded, but kept her eyes on her driving. “She became Catherine Sheldon Weiss. And she devoted her life to bringing down Jeremiah. The problem is, no one was listening to her. She was just a voice in the wilderness.”

Maura stared ahead at what was now a familiar road, one she’d traveled every day to visit Rat at the hospital. This would be her last visit. Tomorrow, she was flying home to Boston, and she dreaded this goodbye. Dreaded it because she still did not know what kind of future she could offer him, what promises she could realistically keep. Little Katie Sheldon had been deeply poisoned by The Gathering; was Rat similarly damaged? Did Maura really want to take such a scarred creature into her home?

“At least this answers a few questions,” said Jane.

Maura looked at her. “What questions?”

“About the double homicide at the Circle B Guest Ranch. The couple killed in their motel cabin. There was no forced entry. The killer simply walked in and proceeded to bash the husband’s head, completely obliterating his face.”

“A rage killing.”

Jane nodded. “They found the murder weapon in Cathy’s garage. A hammer.”

“So there’s no doubt she did it.”

“It also explains another thing that puzzled me about that crime scene,” said Jane. “There was a baby left alive in the crib. Not only was she unharmed, there were four empty bottles in the crib with her. The killer wanted that baby to survive. Even removed the DO NOT DISTURB sign, so housekeeping would be sure to come in and find the bodies.” She glanced at Maura. “Sounds like someone who cares about kids, doesn’t it?”

“A social worker.”

“Cathy kept constant tabs on The Gathering. She knew when any of them showed up in town. Maybe she killed that couple out of fury. Or maybe she was just trying to save one baby girl.” Jane gave a grim nod of approval. “In the end, she saved a lot of girls. The kids are all in protective custody. And the women are starting to leave Plain of Angels. Just as Cathy predicted, the cult’s collapsing without Jeremiah.”

“But she had to kill him to make it happen.”

“I’m not going to judge her. Think of how many lives he destroyed. Including the boy’s.”

“Rat has no one now,” said Maura softly.

Jane looked at her. “You realize he comes with a big set of problems.”

“I know.”

“A juvenile record. Bounced around among foster homes. And now his mom and sister are dead.”