equipment for the work you want me to do. We can drive out in the morning and be there by noon.”
For a moment, Harold Stedman looked nonplussed. “What kind of equipment could a handwriting analyst need?”
“Magnifying glass, measuring tools, things like that. I’ll also need to print out a copy of my standard retainer agreement and ask you to sign it. Since we’re staying over, I’ll be charging my day rate.”
When she him told her rate he looked taken aback, but he merely said, “All right, tomorrow then.”
Claudia said, “As it happens, I’m scheduled to give a lecture later in the week at UC Riverside. If the work you have for me lasts that long, I can conceivably leave from your location on Thursday evening and return there afterward.”
“That’s fine,” Stedman said. “The university is only about thirty miles from us, which is a lot closer than it would be for you to return here to the Valley.”
“Your Ark is in Hemet, isn’t it?” Kelly asked.
He shot a quick look at her and Claudia could see Kelly wishing that she hadn’t revealed that she already knew the location of their compound.
“We’re in the hills above Hemet,” Stedman said. “I’ll give you directions; it’s easy to get lost up there. May I have your notebook back, sister? You know, I’ve just realized, I don’t even know your names.”
They introduced themselves and Claudia wondered how quickly he would dig up some intel on them. Considering the electronic eavesdropping, and the paranoia she had noted in his handwriting, she was fairly certain that he would want to check them out before actually bringing them into the Ark. As long as he didn’t dig into family background and discover Kelly’s connection to Erin, they should be okay.
Stedman spoke as he wrote the directions. “Our property is about a hundred miles east of here.”
“Isn’t there another big religious compound in that area?” Claudia asked.
“The Scientology people have a place there; you’ll recognize it by the blue tiled roofs. It’s quite an impressive piece of real estate. I’m afraid you won’t find the Ark nearly as large or elaborate. We’re a little more remote and at a slightly higher elevation. You’ll take the San Bernardino Freeway east, past Riverside.” He scribbled a few lines on the paper. “Here are some directions and the phone number at the Ark in case you have any problems.”
They had a quick and easy drive back to Kelly’s place. Most of the commuters had gone home to their dinner and other evening activities, leaving traffic blessedly thinner on the 5. As they drove, Kelly and Claudia chewed over what they had seen during the evening, and Harold Stedman’s invitation to the Ark.
“How much do you know about cults?” Kelly asked.
“I had a case a couple of years ago. Mayor’s wife in a small town up north near Yreka got involved with a satanic cult. He tried to go in by himself and get her out, got beat up pretty badly; broken bones. Then they framed him for something—I forget exactly what, but there was handwriting involved—an anonymous note. He hired me to prove he hadn’t written it. That was an easy one. It’s really hard to forge someone’s handwriting and he had an interesting way of forming some of his numbers that the forgers totally got wrong. People don’t think about changing the numbers when they’re forging. Anyway, to answer your question, I did some Internet research and learned a little bit about cults in general.”
“And you weren’t scared to go up against them?”
“Well, yeah, of course I was. But it pissed me off, what they were doing to him. It wasn’t right.”
Kelly honked the horn a couple of times, oblivious to the SUV in front of her. “Claudia Rose to the rescue! Were you Sir Lancelot in a past life, or what?”
“Yeah, that was me, the knight in shining armor saving damsels in distress. Which brings me back to our situation. What do you think our
For a moment, Harold Stedman looked nonplussed. “What kind of equipment could a handwriting analyst need?”
“Magnifying glass, measuring tools, things like that. I’ll also need to print out a copy of my standard retainer agreement and ask you to sign it. Since we’re staying over, I’ll be charging my day rate.”
When she him told her rate he looked taken aback, but he merely said, “All right, tomorrow then.”
Claudia said, “As it happens, I’m scheduled to give a lecture later in the week at UC Riverside. If the work you have for me lasts that long, I can conceivably leave from your location on Thursday evening and return there afterward.”
“That’s fine,” Stedman said. “The university is only about thirty miles from us, which is a lot closer than it would be for you to return here to the Valley.”
“Your Ark is in Hemet, isn’t it?” Kelly asked.
He shot a quick look at her and Claudia could see Kelly wishing that she hadn’t revealed that she already knew the location of their compound.
“We’re in the hills above Hemet,” Stedman said. “I’ll give you directions; it’s easy to get lost up there. May I have your notebook back, sister? You know, I’ve just realized, I don’t even know your names.”
They introduced themselves and Claudia wondered how quickly he would dig up some intel on them. Considering the electronic eavesdropping, and the paranoia she had noted in his handwriting, she was fairly certain that he would want to check them out before actually bringing them into the Ark. As long as he didn’t dig into family background and discover Kelly’s connection to Erin, they should be okay.
Stedman spoke as he wrote the directions. “Our property is about a hundred miles east of here.”
“Isn’t there another big religious compound in that area?” Claudia asked.
“The Scientology people have a place there; you’ll recognize it by the blue tiled roofs. It’s quite an impressive piece of real estate. I’m afraid you won’t find the Ark nearly as large or elaborate. We’re a little more remote and at a slightly higher elevation. You’ll take the San Bernardino Freeway east, past Riverside.” He scribbled a few lines on the paper. “Here are some directions and the phone number at the Ark in case you have any problems.”
They had a quick and easy drive back to Kelly’s place. Most of the commuters had gone home to their dinner and other evening activities, leaving traffic blessedly thinner on the 5. As they drove, Kelly and Claudia chewed over what they had seen during the evening, and Harold Stedman’s invitation to the Ark.
“How much do you know about cults?” Kelly asked.
“I had a case a couple of years ago. Mayor’s wife in a small town up north near Yreka got involved with a satanic cult. He tried to go in by himself and get her out, got beat up pretty badly; broken bones. Then they framed him for something—I forget exactly what, but there was handwriting involved—an anonymous note. He hired me to prove he hadn’t written it. That was an easy one. It’s really hard to forge someone’s handwriting and he had an interesting way of forming some of his numbers that the forgers totally got wrong. People don’t think about changing the numbers when they’re forging. Anyway, to answer your question, I did some Internet research and learned a little bit about cults in general.”
“And you weren’t scared to go up against them?”
“Well, yeah, of course I was. But it pissed me off, what they were doing to him. It wasn’t right.”
Kelly honked the horn a couple of times, oblivious to the SUV in front of her. “Claudia Rose to the rescue! Were you Sir Lancelot in a past life, or what?”
“Yeah, that was me, the knight in shining armor saving damsels in distress. Which brings me back to our situation. What do you think our
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