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“Keep an eye on them. Don’t let Salomé corner Willow, okay?”
He studies me. “What do you expect her to do when she finds out?”
“I have no idea, Brother. That’s the problem.”
I drive to Ezra Moore's office, which is housed on the same property as his house. I don’t know much about the man except that he’s trustworthy and has resources at his disposal that others may not—and he’s discreet.
I park my car and step out of my vehicle. The house itself is dark, with everyone most likely in bed. I walk along the path to the entrance of the office where the door has been left slightly ajar. I push it open and enter.
Ezra looks up from his desk, takes my measure, then stands to extend his hand. “Mr. Delacroix, it’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
I take his hand and shake it. “Azrael, please. Thank you for meeting me at such a late hour.”
He simply nods, not wasting time but gesturing to me to sit down as he resumes his seat behind his desk. Over the last week, I’ve been able to look over the files the Wildblood investigators have collected on the Disciples and as much as they’ve been willing to share about Caleb Church, which hasn’t been much.
Like Willow, they don’t trust me. Again, understandable, but I will do whatever I need to do to protect my wife and our unborn child. If that means going around the Wildbloods, so be it.
“I’ll start with Alfred Noyes, even though he was a small player when we first spoke.”
My eyebrows crease together as he turns his computer screen around and types on his keyboard. An older man of decent height and build fills the screen. He’s in military fatigues, and what is left of his hair is gray. His face is deeply lined, but in his eyes is a determination that’s rare. If I had to describe the man in one word, it would be fierce.
“Mr. Noyes retired from the military some years ago and had been funding and running the Disciples for the last forty years until his grandson, Frederik, took over as the Prophet a few years ago. Frederik had the full support of his grandfather, and the two were close from what I gathered.”
I nod, waiting. Not liking where this is going.
“He is a very powerful man, and since his grandson’s murder, has taken on the active role of Prophet once more.”
“So he’s back to running these witch hunters?”
“Yes.”
“What does he have to do with my wife?”
“Nothing. He has nothing to do with the Wildbloods at all apart from the historic fact that they descend from a woman who was executed for witchcraft dating back hundreds of years.”
“His ancestors were at the original witch trials in Salem as I understood it.”
“Correct.”
“What about Caleb Church?”
“After the… incident at Noyes’s compound, Caleb disappeared as far as we knew. Alfred Noyes put out a call to bring Caleb to him. He wanted him alive.”
“Did he? And did he succeed in locating him?”
“Well, here’s the thing. When Caleb learned what Noyes had done, he took a risk, a dangerous one. Outright bold if you ask me.”
He clicks a couple of keys on his keyboard again, and a photo populates the screen. This one has me leaning forward to look closely at the image of Caleb Church standing at an open door. He’s had his hair cut since I saw him, and although he’s wearing a cassock, it looks new or at least laundered. He’s shaved his face and looks fed and rested, not so crazed.
On the other side of the door is Alfred Noyes. The two are shaking hands.
“What the hell is going on?”
“Frederik and Caleb had an ongoing feud. They’d worked together before Caleb was incarcerated and Frederik and Alfred both thought Caleb was bringing too much attention to the Disciples. His arrest and prosecution were evidence of that.”
He pushes a folder toward me. I look at it but don’t pick it up. I think I know what’s inside.
“Willow was a minor during the incident that landed Church in prison. All records have been sealed and will remain so.”
I drag my gaze from the folder to him.
“Caleb’s bold move,” I say, because as much as I want to know and understand the past Caleb Church shares with my wife, I want it to come from her. I want her to tell me.
“Alfred assumed it was Caleb who killed his grandson, hence the call to bring him in. But Caleb didn’t wait to be dragged to the man. He showed up at his front door knowing how heavily guarded Noyes is, how the Disciples will do his bidding no questions asked. He showed up to plead his case.”
“Plead what case?” But as I ask the question, I understand. I understand what the manipulative bastard did. It’s the only thing he could have done. “He pinned Frederik’s murder on me.”
