Page 11 of Mountain Captive

The blond man nodded to the round-faced man. He pulled a small case from his pocket and handed the sheriff a business card. “That’s the name of our attorney,” he said. “You can contact him.”

The three walked away. Travis pocketed the card and glanced over as his brother, Sergeant Gage Walker, joined the group. “The car is registered to something called the Vine, LLC,” he said.

Travis turned to Chris. She had remained silent since the men had approached, pale and still. “What do you know about this?” he asked.

She swallowed hard. “The blond man is named Jedediah,” she said. “I don’t know his last name. He works for a man named Edmund Harrison, though most people know him as the Exalted. He leads the Vine. I don’t know the other two, but they’re probably part of the Exalted’s inner circle—the ones charged with keeping order within the group.”

“What is the Vine?” Gage asked. “Some kind of vineyard or something?”

Chris shook her head. “The Vine is, well, I guess you’d say it’s a cult. A kind of religion, but not exactly. Edmund Harrison is the leader, the Exalted.”

“What’s your connection to the group?” Travis asked.

She stared at the ground. “My mother and father were members—a long time ago. My father died, and after that...” She paused. Rand could sense her struggling to control her emotions. Her shoulders drew inward, and she clenched her hands tightly. But after a long moment, she lifted her head. “My mother broke with the group when I was twelve. I haven’t seen or heard from them since.”

She was lying. Rand was sure of it. She had seen Jedediah on the trail last Saturday and had recognized him. And he had recognized her.

“What was all that about a wedding?” Ryan asked. “And why did he call you by that other name—Lisa or something?”

“Elita.” She blew out a breath. “It’s a long story.”

“I’d like you to come to my office and tell me about it,” Travis said. “If it turns out they were responsible for that fire, or the death of anyone in it, I need to know as much about them as possible.”

“I’ll come with you,” Rand said.

Chris turned to him, and he braced himself for her to tell him to back off, that this was none of his business. “You don’t have to do this alone,” he said softly. Whatever was behind this, the encounter had clearly shaken her. He wanted to be there to lend her strength. To take away a little of her fear.

She nodded. “All right.”

“We can go now,” Travis said. “I want to get your statement before Jedidiah and the others have a chance to get too far away.”

“They won’t go far,” Chris said. “Not until they have me. I’m the reason they’re here.”

Eighteen years ago

“WE’VECOMETODAYto reveal that Elita has been selected for an amazing honor.”

Elita had been trying to teach herself to knit by following the illustrations in a library book when the two women and one man had knocked on the door of the travel trailer where she and her mother and father lived, on the edge of an apple grove owned by the Vine. The trailer was old—hot in the summer and cold in the winter, and when it rained, the roof over Elita’s bunk bed leaked—but they had lived here since Elita was five years old, and she was nine now.

She hadn’t been calledElitawhen they’d first moved here. She had been Christine Elizabeth back then. But one day, not long after they had arrived, her father had announced they were all taking new names. Her new name was Elita. “It means ‘the chosen one,’” he told her. “The Exalted himself named you. It’s a very special honor.”

She thought it was strange to suddenly have a new name, but she knew better than to argue, and over time, she got used to being Elita instead of Christine.

The woman who spoke, Helen, was older than Elita’s mom. She had long brown hair almost to her waist, the strands glinting with silver, and pale blue eyes. She oversaw the Sunday school Elita attended, and whenever she smiled at Elita, the little girl felt warm and happy.

The other woman, Sarai, was older and sour-faced. She taught the younger children and carried a switch when she walked between the rows of students, and didn’t hesitate to pop them on the back of the hand if they gave a wrong answer to her questions. Elita didn’t like her, and she avoided looking at her now.

But the man—Jedediah—was the one who really frightened her. The way he watched everyone, especially the girls, made her feel sick to her stomach. He was supposed to be one of the holiest among them, serving as the Exalted’s right hand. But to her, he seemed evil.

Elita’s mother—whom everyone called Lana now, though she had been born Amy—came and stood behind Elita, resting both hands on her shoulders. “This is a surprise,” she said. “Why would Elita be singled out for an honor?”

“She has found favor with the Exalted,” Helen said. She smiled at Elita, but this time the little girl didn’t feel warm or happy. She felt cold and scared. Like Jedediah, the Exalted frightened her. Not because he was mean or creepy, but because everyone acted afraid of him, and there were a lot of rules about how to behave around him. Not just anyone could speak to the Exalted. And her mother had told her once that the best way to behave around the Exalted was to pretend to be invisible. Elita hadn’t understood what she meant. People couldn’t be invisible.

Mom’s hands tightened on her shoulders. “What is this great honor?” she asked.

“The Exalted has chosen Elita to be his bride.” Helen said the words with a breathless awe, her cheeks flushed and eyes alight.

Elita’s mother gasped. “She’s only nine years old.”

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