The Broken Soul (Sloane & Maddie, Peril Awaits Book 3) by Cheryl Bradshaw & Janet Fix

Author:Cheryl Bradshaw & Janet Fix [Bradshaw , Cheryl & Fix, Janet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pixie Publishing
Published: 2022-06-25T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 20

I awoke the next morning with cottonmouth and a bad attitude. I downed a hangover remedy, ate some toast, and eyeballed my ever-expanding list, which included diagrams of who knew what and who, circles and lines extending this way and that.

First things first: check in with the law.

Devereaux answered the phone, “Where y’at?”

The phrase was a common N’awlins-style greeting, meaning, What’s up?

I responded with sincerity. “Hung over.”

Devereaux laughed. “It happens.”

I brushed aside the small talk and dove right in. “Did you find the guy whose prints were on that paper you found in Michelle’s pocket?” I paused, then asked with all the casualness I could muster. “What was his name again?”

“Nice try, Superfly. To answer your first question, we have not found him yet. We’ve gone to most of his usual haunts, but we’re still making the rounds. No one’s giving up any information so far, but someone will break.”

“You sound so sure,” I said.

“No guarantees, but I feel like we’re closing in.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay. Thanks for your time. Call me if—”

“We’ll call you. Bye, Sloane.”

The conversation had proven to be fruitless. I hoped the rest of the day would offer something more.

I smacked my lips and headed for the bathroom to brush my teeth and deal with my shaggy morning hair. My roots were screaming for attention. Glancing at myself in the mirror, I was in desperate need of a salon day. I’d considered returning to my pixie cut. The bob was getting on my nerves.

As I stared at my reflection, the name Jimmy Quail kept bouncing around in the back of my head. Not front and center, but it was there. It was like I’d heard it before. After living in Park City in my twenties and thirties, it was possible the Heber cult may have come to my attention at some point—even in passing.

I headed to my laptop and typed in the name. I found a few articles, including the one I’d seen on Henry’s computer. The story was an old one, dating back to the late ’70s, and an intriguing one too. Jimmy Quail was a wanted man. It was alleged he’d killed the leader of a cult, the Order of Bountiful Gifts, of which Quail and his family were a part.

The cult leader, who was known to his followers as the Giftmaster—real name Samuel Walsh—was involved in all kinds of deviant behavior, including killing a few of his flock. Quail was the one who’d put the bullet in the Giftmaster’s head when he found out the man had violated his wife. Quail and what was left of his family then took off for parts unknown. Never to be heard from again. Many arrests were made, and the cult disintegrated.

There was one grainy picture of Quail standing with a woman—his wife who’d died, according to the caption—and six kids of varying ages, though it wasn’t clear if they were all his. I zoomed in on the picture. No one looked familiar to me in the least.

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