Page 86 of Lethal Danger

Good. He should be afraid. Hawthorne wasn’t a boy anymore. “You know I could sue you till I own your whole fortune, Best Life products, and this property for chaining me up here.” Hawthorne pulled on the zip tie for emphasis. “Not to mention the legal charges I’ll hit you with first.”

Oh, yeah. A definite flicker of doubt in the eyes at that. But then defiance covered the emotion as Patch responded. “You are a trespasser on our private property.”

That voice. Smooth as silk and sharp as a blade. “And you even invaded the home of one in our community. A grieving mother. We have the right to help her defend herself and to detain you until the authorities can come to our aid.”

“Ah. So you’ve called the police?”

Patch held his gaze but didn’t respond.

Thought not.

“I see you still hold great resentment for me and the love I’ve shown your family.”

Hawthorne swallowed, trying to control the gag reflex Patch was activating. “You don’t know the meaning of love.”

The man donned a pitying expression, slowly moving his head back and forth. “You had so much potential. But you always returned kindness and love with resentment and disobedience.”

Patch stepped closer. Then he lowered to a squat, his white robe with two wide, red vertical stripes down the front billowing out around him.

An inch closer, and Hawthorne could grab him. Easily put him into submission and make him pay for everything he’d done to their family. But that wouldn’t help him find the truth about Sam. And choking the guy out wouldn’t exactly be the Christian thing to do.

Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.

Yeah. Hawthorne needed more work on following that Bible verse. Maybe after he got justice for Sam.

“I tried to show you the way. The path to your best life was there before you, but you refused to take it. Even when I tried to help you and guide you. You rejected my love. The love of everyone in this community. You rejected your poor mother and father.”

Hawthorne tamped down the flame of anger Patch’s dig intentionally flamed higher. Did he want Hawthorne to attack him so he could try for an assault charge?

Hawthorne breathed through his nostrils. Had to stay calm. “Is that what Sam did?”

Patch blinked. Good. A genuine reaction.

“Sam Ackerman. The kid who died because he had to sneak out to go to the fair instead of being able to go with his family like a normal boy.”

Patch pushed off the floor to stand. “The boy had a rebellious temperament like you do. The evil took hold of him too young.” He shook his head with a sorry attempt at a sad expression. “I tried everything in my power to break him free, but he refused to be saved. The stars and I can only guide you to the best life if you are willing. You know that, Hawthorne.”

The condescension in the way he said Hawthorne’s name, an exact match for the thankfully few times Hawthorne had to talk to him as a boy, still snaked along his spine like a slinking reptile.

“So you decided to punish him, didn’t you?” Hawthorne allowed repulsion to seep into his tone. “You followed him to the fair and decided to enact some retribution of your own. Or maybe tried to bend him to your will once and for all.”

“I’m surprised at you, Hawthorne.” Patch didn’t look surprised. His lips pointed upward at the edges in an amused smile. “You were taught enough here to know I do not believe in retribution or violence. I abhor both.”

“Oh, right. So I suppose you have an alibi for the night Sam was killed?”

“Not that I need one. But, yes. I was with my wife and other community members in an all-night vigil. Star formation was at its peak, and we knew some in our community would have a chance to achieve the next plane of their journey to epiphany.”

“And which wife would that be?”

Patch’s mouth twitched. Struck a nerve there. The man had already been on his second marriage when Hawthorne left the cult. Who knew what number he was on now.

“Of course, she and all the members would be your alibi. They’d never cross you.”

“We do love each other, that is true. But you know we don’t do violence or hurt others.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard the lie.”

Patch gave him a sad look, as if he were a doctor pondering a patient who refused to seek treatment for his fatal illness. “I cannot control what you choose to believe. I can only guide you to the truth. It is up to you if you choose to reject it and your best life.”

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