noticed the flap of the tepee was up.
“Hi,” I said, poking my head inside. The tepee looked the same as last night, with the sleeping bag and pillow next to the vanity table that held the marble oil lamp. Only Heather was different. Instead of the sequined cowboy outfit, today she sported a Gypsy ensemble, with a neck-straining collection of gold chains.
“Hi,” she said, making no effort to hide her irritation.
Again, I had the feeling that she might have been attractive had it not been for her seemingly permanent scowl.
“I see your baby’s not here.”
“Yeah. Leah’s got the kid. I’ve gotta have time off. I can’t be looking after that kid seven days a week. She takes him a few days.”
“Nice of her.”
“Well, I’ve gotta have some time to myself. It hasn’t been easy, the last twenty-four hours.”
Sitting on her vanity stool, I said, “This is a very serious crime, Heather. I need to know about everyone here. Why don’t you start by telling me how you came to know Rexford Braga?”
“This is my afternoon off. Come around later when I have to be here, anyway.”
“Heather.”
“Okay, okay. I came to a ceremony.”
“Here?”
“Yeah. I was in college back East. I came here for spring vacation.”
“And Braga held the ceremony?”
“No, of course not. What could that old buzzard do? Padma held the ceremony, just like he always did.”
“And so what happened to you?”
She pulled a lock of sandy hair in front of her shoulder and divided it into thirds to braid. “I got fascinated. That’s how I met Braga.”
“And then?”
Pulling her fingers through the braid, she loosened the hairs, redivided them and began the intertwining again. “Well, nothing, really. I just went to the meetings. Like I said, I was really into it. When the girl I drove out here with went back East, I stayed.”
“And had the baby?”
“Well, not right away. Not till a year later.”
“Heather, who is the baby’s father?”
“What? Listen, what business is that of yours?”
“Heather.” I sounded like my mother.
“Okay, okay. He was a guy passing through. His name was Lee.” But there had been a pause before she gave the name.
“You were married, then?”
“Nah. I just took his name. It was better than my own.”
“Which was?”
“Moore.”
Obviously, a subtle difference. “And where can we find him now?”
Her scowl lines deepened. She opened her mouth and shut it again. “I don’t know. I don’t keep in touch. He was on his way to Mexico.”
“You don’t get child support?”
“Are you kidding? Would I be living in a tepee if some sucker were sending me cash?” She slipped the braid onto her shoulder, staring down at the escaping sprigs of hair.
“What about Chupa-da?” I asked.
“What do you mean? What about him?”
“Well, you say you were drawn by the religion. You must know something about the rules. Does Chupa-da automatically succeed Padmasvana? I mean—”
“What!”
“Well, Chupa-da’s taken over Padmasvana’s study, and he’s acting head of the ashram, and—”
“He’s in Padma’s study? The one on the third floor?”
“Right.”
“You said he was acting head?”
“As far as I know.”
“Well, that damn well is all he is. He’s got no more right to pretend to be the guru than you do, you hear me? And if he’s saying anything else, he’s got another thing coming!”
“Heather, are you saying Chupa-da’s breaking the tradition?”
She stood up, ignoring my question.
“Heather, what is the tradition? Do you know?”
“What I know is that Chupa-da just better not think he can step into Padmasvana’s shoes!”
“Heather—” But she had rushed out of the tepee and was heading across the lawn to the temple.
I followed Heather, waited while she stormed into the temple and trailed after her as she burst out of the empty building and careered across the lawn to the ashram. Without a look she passed Leah, who was sitting on
“Hi,” I said, poking my head inside. The tepee looked the same as last night, with the sleeping bag and pillow next to the vanity table that held the marble oil lamp. Only Heather was different. Instead of the sequined cowboy outfit, today she sported a Gypsy ensemble, with a neck-straining collection of gold chains.
“Hi,” she said, making no effort to hide her irritation.
Again, I had the feeling that she might have been attractive had it not been for her seemingly permanent scowl.
“I see your baby’s not here.”
“Yeah. Leah’s got the kid. I’ve gotta have time off. I can’t be looking after that kid seven days a week. She takes him a few days.”
“Nice of her.”
“Well, I’ve gotta have some time to myself. It hasn’t been easy, the last twenty-four hours.”
Sitting on her vanity stool, I said, “This is a very serious crime, Heather. I need to know about everyone here. Why don’t you start by telling me how you came to know Rexford Braga?”
“This is my afternoon off. Come around later when I have to be here, anyway.”
“Heather.”
“Okay, okay. I came to a ceremony.”
“Here?”
“Yeah. I was in college back East. I came here for spring vacation.”
“And Braga held the ceremony?”
“No, of course not. What could that old buzzard do? Padma held the ceremony, just like he always did.”
“And so what happened to you?”
She pulled a lock of sandy hair in front of her shoulder and divided it into thirds to braid. “I got fascinated. That’s how I met Braga.”
“And then?”
Pulling her fingers through the braid, she loosened the hairs, redivided them and began the intertwining again. “Well, nothing, really. I just went to the meetings. Like I said, I was really into it. When the girl I drove out here with went back East, I stayed.”
“And had the baby?”
“Well, not right away. Not till a year later.”
“Heather, who is the baby’s father?”
“What? Listen, what business is that of yours?”
“Heather.” I sounded like my mother.
“Okay, okay. He was a guy passing through. His name was Lee.” But there had been a pause before she gave the name.
“You were married, then?”
“Nah. I just took his name. It was better than my own.”
“Which was?”
“Moore.”
Obviously, a subtle difference. “And where can we find him now?”
Her scowl lines deepened. She opened her mouth and shut it again. “I don’t know. I don’t keep in touch. He was on his way to Mexico.”
“You don’t get child support?”
“Are you kidding? Would I be living in a tepee if some sucker were sending me cash?” She slipped the braid onto her shoulder, staring down at the escaping sprigs of hair.
“What about Chupa-da?” I asked.
“What do you mean? What about him?”
“Well, you say you were drawn by the religion. You must know something about the rules. Does Chupa-da automatically succeed Padmasvana? I mean—”
“What!”
“Well, Chupa-da’s taken over Padmasvana’s study, and he’s acting head of the ashram, and—”
“He’s in Padma’s study? The one on the third floor?”
“Right.”
“You said he was acting head?”
“As far as I know.”
“Well, that damn well is all he is. He’s got no more right to pretend to be the guru than you do, you hear me? And if he’s saying anything else, he’s got another thing coming!”
“Heather, are you saying Chupa-da’s breaking the tradition?”
She stood up, ignoring my question.
“Heather, what is the tradition? Do you know?”
“What I know is that Chupa-da just better not think he can step into Padmasvana’s shoes!”
“Heather—” But she had rushed out of the tepee and was heading across the lawn to the temple.
I followed Heather, waited while she stormed into the temple and trailed after her as she burst out of the empty building and careered across the lawn to the ashram. Without a look she passed Leah, who was sitting on
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