Biding His Thyme: 4 (3 page)

“Is it possible? How does a person join the
cult?” Janaya asked.

“Most people visit the compound and look
around. If they’re impressed by what they see, they gift their property—their
money and valuables—and move in. That’s the simple answer.”

Janaya pursed her lips. “And the
complicated answer?”

“Brother Rick is the new leader. He hasn’t
taken in new people since he’s become leader, but a decent amount of money
might change his mind.”

“How decent?” Alice asked.

“I don’t know for sure, but maybe four or
five thousand. It will depend on Brother Rick. This man—who is he? What are the
cops looking for? What’s going on at the compound?” Curiosity got the better
and questions tumbled out of her.

“You haven’t seen anything illegal?” Janaya
asked.

Sorrel shook her head. “I spend my time
making soaps and lotions to sell in the Children of Nature shop. If I’m not
making stuff in my workshop I’m collecting herbs or flowers. I need to collect
leaves now. I can’t be late.”

“Show us what you need, and we’ll help,”
Alice said.

Sorrel dug out her clippers and started
gathering leaves from the lower branches. The sharp scent of eucalyptus filled
each breath and coated her bare hands.

With the women’s help her handcart was soon
full of leaves.

“So you think our guy shouldn’t have any
difficulty joining Children of Nature?” Janaya asked.

“Brother Rick will interrogate him about
his reasons for joining, but if he has money…” She shrugged in guise of
finishing her sentence.

“Good. We can work with that,” Janaya said.

“My cream?” Sorrel was more interested in
her future. “How long will it be before I know your decision?”

“I’ll trial it and get back to you,” Alice
said. “A few weeks maybe. If I see potential in the idea we’ll get you to come
to the lab, and we’ll work on the recipe, refining it if necessary.”

“A job?”

“Or if you prefer we could buy the rights
to the recipe outright,” Alice said. “But we’re getting ahead of ourselves.
When are you delivering new stock to your shop?”

“I go Mondays and Fridays, but they’re
saying they need new stock more often. I’m finding it difficult to keep up with
demand.”

“We’ll watch for you and attempt a meeting
when it’s doable,” Alice said.

Sorrel nodded, not trusting herself to
speak. Her hands trembled as she fastened elastic cords across the foliage to
keep it in place during the trip back to the compound. “Thank you,” she
managed. “I need to go.” She pushed the handcart up the incline without another
word, excitement bursting free in a wide smile when she was sure neither of the
women would see. She’d taken the first step, and now all she needed to do was
trust in herself because she’d invented a dynamite product.

Jake Ramsay had done some crazy shit in his
time, but this idea was plain weird even for him. He stared at Louie Lithgow,
one of his best friends who he’d served with in the SAS, New Zealand’s elite
military unit. His gaze slid to Louie’s cop cousin, Luke Morgan, while he
waited for one of them to break and crack a smile. This had to be a joke at his
expense.

Didn’t happen.

He continued to stare at them without blinking.
“You want me to what?”

“I need someone undercover at the cult. If
I don’t do something the local farmers are going to take matters into their own
hands. Innocent people will get hurt,” Luke said.

“Why is it my problem?” Jake asked, wanting
to bite back the words as soon as they left his mouth. He was a soldier. It was
his job to protect innocent people.

“Luke needs your help,” Louie said. “You’re
not doing anything apart from watching TV all day.”

Jake’s top lip curled. Louie hadn’t
mentioned the plethora of empty bottles littering his kitchen counter. “Haven’t
you noticed my limp? I’m not fit to work. They’re telling me I have another
three weeks of recuperation at least.”

“That’s the beauty of this assignment,”
Luke said. “The way you look now is perfect. With your long hair and scraggly
beard you’ll fit right in. All you need to do is poke around a little and
report back if you find any evidence of stock rustling.”

Jake frowned. “I thought cults were into
drugs, kidnapping and brainwashing.”

Luke laughed. “Not this one. My father has
caught them selling special cookies to high school students, a few minor
offences, but that’s all.”

“Then why do you suspect them of cattle
rustling now?” Jake asked.

“Change of management,” Luke said. “The old
leader died and the son has taken over.”

Jake’s interest was caught in a way it
hadn’t been since his last assignment. “Suspicious circumstances?”

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “It’s
possible, but I haven’t heard any rumblings.”

“All right,” Jake said. “Suppose I decide
to help you out—how do I get in? I’m sure they don’t accept anyone who rocks up
to the gate.”

“Gaining entry might prove a problem, but
if you sell it right—tell them you’re back from an ashram in India, and you’re
looking for a place to settle in New Zealand. Tell them the idea of living at a
farm and the slower pace of life appeals to you.”

Jake suppressed a snort. Slow sounded
great. Anything would be better than the sniper fire and bombs of Afghanistan.
Besides, he was tired of his own company. His friends, Nikolai and Louie had
wives now, other responsibilities. He didn’t see them as much. Hell, maybe
having something to focus on would put a stop to Greg’s ghost dogging his
heels, not that he intended to mention his fun companion to anyone.

“Do you have more questions?” Luke asked.

“No, I’ll do it,” Jake said. “I’ll give it
my best shot.”

* * * * *

Children of Nature Compound

Sorrel saw the new guy arrive, and unlike
everyone else at the compound, she suspected what his presence meant.

Clandestine surveillance. Secrets and
sneaking around.

They’d moved quickly after talking to her.
She hadn’t even had her second meeting with Alice yet.

He was tall, over six foot, and he wore his
dark hair tied in a ponytail at his nape. A faded navy blue T-shirt covered his
chest while jeans, equally faded at stress points, garbed his lower half.
Despite his thinness, he was a big man, and he held himself proudly, meeting
the gazes of the men at the gates without hesitation. At least it appeared that
way. A bushy black beard hid a large portion of his face.

Aware she’d grab attention if she was found
staring, she hurried to her workshop and started on a batch of soap. She’d
already distilled the oil from the eucalyptus leaves, and she intended to use
it to scent the soap today. She measured and stirred, her mind only half on the
job, the heady bouquet of eucalyptus filling the air.

Would Brother Rick let the man join? And
what sort of man was he? A soft snort emerged. He’d behave like the other men
and treat her with contempt. He’d call her Bitter because he was playing a
part.

The day passed, and despite the pangs of
hunger, she kept going, making a batch of marigold cream, a chocolate body
scrub and another batch of soap, this one decorated with delicate pink rose buds.

She timed her arrival at dinner in order to
walk in with the other women. Luckily, the men seemed busy, clustered around or
near the new guy. For the first time in weeks, she managed to eat a full meal,
and her stomach thanked her for it. She sent warm, fuzzy thoughts to the new
guy—whoever he was—for causing the distraction.

* * * * *

One whiff of money, and they’d welcomed him
with open arms. Much easier than dodging bombs. The robes weren’t so shit-hot
though. It was gonna take a while to get used to the breeze flapping around his
legs.

“Brother Jake, do you think you’ll be happy
here?” Brother Rick asked. He was a slim man with short brown hair. Jake didn’t
think he’d hit six foot, but he had a presence about him. Sly intelligence
lurked in his brown eyes.

Luke Morgan had described him as
charismatic with a side of sleaze. Got it in one. The man’s smile edged up
until he flashed a mouthful of white teeth, yet it didn’t reach his eyes. This
was a professional smile, one to inspire confidence, yet Jake wasn’t stupid
enough to fall for the tactic. An Oscar-worthy performance. That’s what Brother
Rick would receive in exchange for his fake smile and phony interest.

“From what you’ve told me I believe I’ll
settle in here very well. Of course there’s a place in the South Island that
might also suit. I believe you said I could stay here for a week or two while I
make up my mind?”

“Of course,” Brother Rick said, his
pleasant expression never faltering, although the brisk note in his voice told
Jake he’d pissed off the younger man. “What made you return to New Zealand?”

“I caught a bug in India, had a bad run of
dysentery.” Jake made an affected motion with his hand. “My illness brought on
a bout of homesickness, and I decided it was time to return to New Zealand.
I’ve been back a month now, staying with a friend in Auckland. It’s taken me a
while to recover.” Aware it was best to keep it simple, Jake stopping talking.

“Why here?”

Ah, the man was still wary. “My preference
is a quiet life in the country. I enjoy working with herbs. I understand you
have a shop in the town where you sell soaps and other stuff.” Jake prattled as
he’d never prattled before. Nikolai and Louie, his army mates would have
laughed themselves silly if they’d heard him. “Perhaps I could employ my
talents in that direction, if you require my help there, of course.”

“What duties did you carry out at the
ashram in India?”

“I helped look after the guests who came to
the yoga retreat. I arranged meals and cleaned the guest rooms.”

“I see.”

Jake doubted the smug bastard saw a thing,
which was perfect.

“You’re welcome to stay here while you’re
making up your mind. They will make space for you in the single men’s quarters.
We will, of course, have to charge you for the length of your stay.”

“Of course.” Jake kept his expression
impassive, but he knew a man out for a buck when he saw one. “I don’t expect to
stay for free while I’m making up my mind. I’m willing to work at whatever
chores you decide to set me. I have to say, I’m very impressed with the setup
you have here.”

Brother Rick inclined his head with the
hauteur of an aristocrat. “As it happens, Bitter Thyme, the woman who makes the
soaps needs to increase her production. She would welcome an extra pair of
hands.” His mouth curled up in a secret smile, which made an alarm fire to life
in Jake. He was pretty sure the Thyme woman was the one who wanted out of the
cult.

If Brother Rick was on to her, Jake needed
to tread warily. No prob. After navigating a minefield this would be no sweat.
He’d be out of here, lying on a beach with a beer and a babe by next weekend.

“I daresay I can take on other chores if I
don’t enjoy the work?” He lifted his brows in query.

“We encourage our people to help out where
they wish. You’re welcome to help with the livestock or in the gardens as you
choose.”

“Thank you,” Jake said. “Is there someone
available to give me a tour or is it all right to wander around the compound on
my own?”

“You’re free to explore, but I’m sure
everyone will be eager to show you around or answer questions if you ask.”

“Thanks again,” Jake said. “You’ve made me
feel very welcome.”

A bell rang in the distance, the tinny
sound echoing through the valley.

“That’s the dinner bell,” Brother Rick
said. “We tend to eat early. Come. Sit at my table tonight. Meet some of the
men who help me run the compound.”

“I’d enjoy that,” Jake said, which was how
he found himself limping alongside Brother Rick as they made their way to the
dining room.

He noted the groups of robed people
wandering toward the large building to one side of the compound. Men and women
wore white robes, although Brother Rick and some of the men had maroon stripes
set in the loose sleeves.

The air whistled past his pursed lips as he
took in the two men still on the gates. Security. Why did they need people
manning the entrance? What were they afraid of? Maybe this wouldn’t be as easy
as he hoped. Now that he was here, he realized it would take a few weeks before
the members of the cult started to think of him as one of them. At present he was
a novelty. The weight of their gazes struck him as he limped at Brother Rick’s
side.

Jake entered a large hall, set out for
communal dining. The men strode straight to the food, the women serving them
first despite women waiting in the line. Jake didn’t react or voice the
incredulous comment at the tip of his tongue.

It seemed women were second-class citizens
around this place.

Most of the men were of middle age—forties
to fifties—but there was also about ten men who were younger, and they were the
ones with the maroon stripes on their sleeves. Brother Rick appeared around
thirty.

The food was good and plentiful, and Jake
enjoyed every mouthful of the roast beef and vegetables. A wry thought that he
might be eating the neighbor’s stud bull brought amusement. A bit late to worry
now. He set his knife and fork across the empty plate, surprised by his good
appetite. He picked up a glass of water and drank deeply. For the first time in
weeks, he wasn’t craving a beer or a whisky. Louie was right. It seemed his
problem was lack of purpose.

Brother Rick finished his meal and stood,
his booming voice bringing an instant hush. “As you know we aim for
self-sufficiency. We’re also in favor of natural methods in all things. We’re
against birth control.” He gestured with his hands.

“Bad, bad birth control,” the men and women
shouted at him.

They clapped enthusiastically, and Brother
Rick paused for quiet. “Exactly,” he said. “Children are a blessing.”

With his chair tilted a fraction to the
right, Jake was able to scan the faces of the men and women in the hall. He
catalogued the various expressions. Most of the men grinned. Some of the women
too, but he noted apprehension on a few faces.

Luke had told him the cult members often
picketed the condom factory, Fancy Free, but apart from this public protest,
they kept pretty much to themselves.

“In five nights we’ll hold a gathering. I
expect everyone over the age of twenty to attend, but participation isn’t
compulsory for those under twenty-five. You are adults and may make the
decision as you see fit.”

A burst of excited chatter filled the hall.
Reactions varied from open excitement to…to…fear. Jake frowned. What the fuck
was the man talking about?

Brother Rick held up his hand in a sign for
quiet. The noise died away. “Nursing mothers may attend if they wish, or they
can volunteer to watch the children. The kitchen will make a batch of bliss
cakes and the brewer intends to open his cellar. We will trial a batch of his
beer.”

More enthusiastic shouts met this
announcement.

Bliss cakes? What the fuck? Again Jake
studied the various reactions to the announcement. Which one was Sorrel? Was
she this Bitter Thyme person or someone else?

Brother Rick held up his hand again. “I’ll
be away for three days. I intend to travel to Auckland and spread the message.
Brother John and Brother Tyrone will be aiding me, and I hope to bring back new
recruits.”

Another roar of approval swelled throughout
the hall.

“That is all,” Brother Rick said. “We
intend to leave tonight. I’ll see you at the celebration.”

The men at Jake’s table stood, leaving
their plates where they sat. Jake followed suit, although he noticed the people
at other tables carried their used plates and cutlery to a central point.

Brother Rick stopped by a neighboring
table, filled with women. “Sister Bitter, clear our table. I’ve heard the store
needs additional stock. Do you have products ready to go to the shop tomorrow?”

Jake noticed the woman didn’t look at
Brother Rick. Her gaze remained on her hands while she answered in a calm
voice.

“I didn’t think I’d need to make a delivery
until Friday. I don’t have enough to take down yet.”

“I’ve noticed your laziness,” Brother Rick
said, his voice even. “Work through the night. Make sure you have enough stock
to deliver to the shop. Increase production. The new man is interested in
herbs. He can help you tomorrow.”

“Yes, Brother Rick.”

This chubby, colorless woman was Sorrel.
For some reason Brother Rick detested her, but the man had made Jake’s job
easier. With a positive identification, he wouldn’t need to blunder around,
wasting valuable time to find the right woman.