CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

            When Phil saw Pete Conley descending the stairs, his pulse throbbed against his temples. The man wore a shirt like one he’d seen in the televised protest. “Abortion Stops a Beating Heart”

            Control yourself or these people won’t say anything. His hands closed into fists at his side.

            “Pete, this is Phillip Stone. Phillip, my husband, Peter Conley.”

            “Conley.” Phil tried, unsuccessfully, to keep the edge off his voice.

            “Mr. Stone? I’m sorry, but I’m terrible at names and, it seems, faces. Have we met?"

            “Phillip’s wife is Macie Stone, that sweet nurse from the Sorkin Clinic who was here the other day.”

            Pete’s eyes widened. “What can we do for you, Phil?”

            “You can tell me who you’re protecting.” Phil saw the look Pete Conley gave his wife.

            She guided Phil to a chair as she responded.      “Macie didn’t come home last night, Pete. Phillip is worried something happened to her. I was just about to explain that she was fine when she left here yesterday.”

            “Mary, I think we have to level with Mr. Stone. We can’t protect Paige if she’s involved in doing anything to his wife.” Pete still stood by the stairs, leaning against the wall.

            “Paige would never hurt anyone. Isn’t that what you said, Pete?”

            “That was before, Mary. You heard what Ron said. She’s different.”

            Phil looked from one to the other. “Who are you talking about? Who is this Paige?”

            “She’s a friend of ours, or at least, we know her.” Mary pursed her lips, but said nothing as her husband continued. “She’s been struggling with depression for some time. Lately, she’s gotten herself involved with some ...well, some dangerous people. Mary would still like to find her, to try to help her. Understand, Stone, she’s not a bad person. She’s just ...well,

she’s ...”

            “Vulnerable,” Mary finished. “And suggestible. And they’ve taken advantage of that. We don’t know what she’s capable of, under their influence. But we’d like to try to help her...to get her out of it, before the police get involved.”

            “Who are ‘they’?” Phil felt the hair on the back of his neck and his arms stand up.

            “We’re not sure. There’s a church involved, but Paige’s husband believes it’s only a fringe group actually advocating violence against—”

            Phil’s legs jiggled impatiently. “So you think Paige is responsible for Macie’s disappearance?”

            “I don’t know. But Paige’s husband, Ron, was here yesterday. Paige’s gone to a church retreat. It was a last-minute thing. She told him she was staying at a friend’s house

overnight so they could leave early in the morning.”

            “But you said they. Who are you talking about?”

            “I wish I knew, Phil.”

            Stone bristled at Pete’s familiarity.

            “The church has a vicious website,” Pete continued. “ Well, actually I don’t know that it’s a church site, but the name sure is plastered all over it.”

            “What name?”

            “It’s called Hope Tabernacle. Ron talked to one of the deacons there. He’s convinced the church, as a whole, is okay. But there are some people there that don’t seem to... well, to fit. Here,

let me show you.”

            Phil realized Conley was leaving the room; he jumped up to join him. They walked through a doorway, just off the hall, and Pete sat down at the computer. In a moment, the screen went black and a river of red…virtual blood… coursed down its center, forming the words Revenge for Ramah . The next page was a list of abortion clinics and doctor’s names. The

Thornton, Colorado clinic was there, with a checkmark behind it.

            “What sick puppies thought of this?” Phil searched the list for the Sorkin Clinic.

            “Tells you right there.” Pete pointed to a phone number on the screen. “I called it. A man answered, said his name was Soudo.”

            “Soudo?”

            “Telephone directory says he’s the pastor at Hope Tabernacle. I called him back and jumped him about the site, but he seemed surprised to hear that his number was listed.”

            “I’ll bet. How long do you think it’s been there?”

            “Yeah... He knew.”

            “What’s the Ramah thing?”

            “In the Bible. When Christ was born, Herod was so jealous he ordered all the babies two or under in Ramah...Bethlehem...killed.” He spun his chair to face Phil Stone. “Have you called the police yet?”

            Phil shook his head.

            “Then give me a chance to locate Paige. Just until, say, one o’clock. That’s four hours.”

            Phil shrugged uncertainly. “Call me by one. I’m not waiting any past that.”

            “Deal. Look, Phil. For what it’s worth, I don’t think they would hurt your wife. I think maybe they’re trying to throw a scare into Sorkin.”

            “You mean the way they scared the Doc before?”

            “Okay, I had that coming. We were in on the protests. That’s as far as we went. We wouldn’t have hurt you.”

            Phil turned away from Conley, to leave the room. “Somebody sideswiped Macie’s car the other day. I guess they wouldn’t have hurt her either.”

            The man followed Phil out of the room. “It wasn’t any of us.”

            “That you know of .” Phil didn‘t look back. “Area code 303, 288- 9595... I’ll show myself out.” He left Conley retreating to the computer room.

            Behind the wheel of his Tercel, Phil suddenly longed to hear Macie’s voice. He sat back in the seat, dialed his home number and the code, and was connected to his answering machine.          

            “Hi. You’ve reached Phil and Macie. We aren’t available to take your call, but please leave a message after the tone.” He’d wiped out all the messages that morning, so he didn’t expect to hear the Re/Max office secretary’s crisp voice.

            “Phil, it’s Cathie. You didn’t pick up your messages. Your wife called Friday morning, and said to tell you she had a name to go with the red car. It’s Paige McKenzie. You have a good weekend, now. ‘Bye.”

            Phil’s fingers were on the door handle, to go back inside...but the Conley’s already suspected Paige McKenzie. They could probably locate her faster than he could. At least he knew he was on the right track. He didn’t have time to go on any rabbit trails.