Faithless in Death (In Death, #52)(67)

“Okay. And your whereabouts Monday night, during the time in question?”

“Here, at home. I led a seminar after the evening meal, then retired to my rooms to meditate and pray.”

“What time were you meditating and praying?”

“By nine, certainly. No one leaves the compound during retreat.”

“And your wife?”

“My wife isn’t well, I’m afraid, and is unable to join this retreat. She’s in treatment.”

“Where?”

“Utopia Island. We hope she’ll be well enough to join us soon.”

“You have three sons. And where are they?”

“Samuel and Joseph are also here, in retreat, along with their wives and children. My youngest is with his mother, at my request. As we’re unable to communicate over these ten days, I needed to know one of us would be there, with our beloved. Aaron would never leave his mother during her illness. And my sons, their wives and children, my daughter would never leave the compound, therefore breaking their vows.”

“You have really good security, which I assume includes electronic surveillance, alarm systems—and gates are electronic.”

“Yes, exceptions necessary for the safety of those inside the compound. I’m sure you’re aware we often receive threats, violent ones.”

“With that exception, it would be easy to verify no one left by reviewing the security feed for Monday.”

Wilkey glanced at his daughter, nodded at her.

“The security feeds are overwritten routinely every twenty-four hours. We wouldn’t have Monday’s by this time.”

“Our EDD would be able to analyze and perhaps locate the overwritten data.”

“Father, may I speak?”

He patted her hand. “Of course, Mirium.”

“My father has given you a great deal of his time, and during his rest period. We’ve been cooperative, and answered your questions even when they edge toward insulting. Now you imply we’re liars or worse. Much worse, and ask us to turn over our property—our security and privacy. You have no warrant, and no cause.”

Wilkey patted her hand again. “My daughter is quite right. We’ve cooperated, and though we didn’t know this woman, we’ll pray for her, and for her family. But now I must prepare for my next session. We wish you a peaceful and fulfilling day.”

He rose, walked to the front doors, and went inside.

“Cisco will transport you back to the gate.” Mirium pushed to her feet. “I wonder if you would so relentlessly pursue someone who’d murdered one of us, since you so clearly hold us in disdain.”

“We’ve pursued the killers of people we’ve held in a lot worse than disdain.” Eve got up. “And we’ve put them in cages. That’s just what we’ll do with the person who killed Ariel Byrd. Thanks for your time.”

Eve walked down the steps with Peabody.

The woman and the young girls had finished weeding the front section. Eve spotted them around the side of the house, still on their knees, still meticulously pulling whatever wasn’t supposed to be there out of the flowers.

The cart rolled up.

On the silent ride back, she saw the basketball players had left the court. A group of adults—white again—practiced yoga on a green lawn. She saw two Asian women leading a group of six Asian kids—green shorts for them—toward a playground.

Peabody nudged her with an elbow, so Eve looked in the opposite direction.

High school–age kids, Eve noted, in a circle, legs crossed, eyes closed, the instructor in the center of the circle.

Hispanic. Brown shorts.

Their driver, Eve thought, Hispanic, attached to security. The two guards at the gate, Caucasian. Different sections then for different races. Segregation in the workforce, in the school, with women, as far as she’d seen, regulated to domestic and teaching areas. Including Wilkey’s daughter, who served as his “personal assistant” and staff manager.

While no fan of small talk, Eve knew how to use it in an interview.

“So, Cisco, right? How long have you worked here?”

“Eight years at headquarters, ma’am.”

She didn’t bother to correct the ma’am. “Beautiful location.”

“Yes, ma’am, it is.”

“No hardship, I’d guess, to stay on campus during the retreat. Does staff have housing right here, too?”

“We do, but not all staff is required to remain on the compound during retreat. That would cause a hardship for many families, and also put a strain on the housing and service facilities.”

“Yeah, that makes sense.”

A stupid little lie then, and so easily debunked.

“Our schools and medical facilities are second to none,” he went on, like a membership pitch. “We grow most of our own food, some here in the compound, and, of course, on our farms. By feeding the mind, the body, the spirit, we help lead the world to peace and prosperity.”

“How long have you been a member of the order?”

“All my life. My parents joined the faithful before I was born.”

“And they live here, too?”

“Oh, no, ma’am. They’re part of our farm system, in Iowa.”

System, Eve noted. “So they aren’t attending the retreat?”