Sample Sunday: January Moon

Rae stormed into Evelyn’s room and pulled her cancer ravaged body out of bed and threw her on the floor.

“You bitch! I knew I never should have trusted you! You crazy, insane, mother fucking bitch!”

Evelyn crawled to a corner and wailed.

“You’ve been nothing but trouble ever since you came here and all we’ve ever done is take care of you and your goddamn brat! We even paid for your custody battle, you ungrateful whore!”

“But I’m a prophet,” Evelyn whimpered, “you can’t treat me this way! My prophesies are the cornerstone of this church! Everyone says so!”

“Yeah, because everyone but me in this asylum is as nuts as you are!”

“That’s not true! I have visions and they’re true!”

“What did you tell your mother? Tell me what you told your mother!”

“My mother? Just I’m very sick. I’m dying.”

Evelyn wrapped herself into a fetal position and sobbed. “And that I killed my daughter! I killed my baby!”

Then she uncoiled herself and staggered to her feet. “And it was all your idea! You told me to purify Summer and now she’s dead!”

“You’re even more insane than I thought. I never told you to purify your kid.”

“Yes, yes, you did! Because you let me help you with the women!”

“What? How do you figure that meant you should cut your daughter?”

“You came to me in my visions. You said if I did it to Sunny you’d make her Jim’s wife and she would be the Mother of God! It was a gift to me you said! And it would keep her pure and she’d never be a slut like me. She’d be safe forever. You promised me.”

Harte was astounded. “You really are insane. What did you do with the files?”

“What files?”

“The files you transferred back and forth by email. Vinson told me about them.”

Evelyn slumped back to the floor. She was ghastly pale and perspiring in pain. “Files? I don’t know anything about files. Please, I need another shot. Please, give me another shot.”

“You crazy whore. I’m not giving you anything until you tell me what you did with the files. Where did you send them?”

“Send them? I don’t know what you’re talking about! Please! I’m due for another shot! Please! The pain is bad tonight. Worse than ever.”

“Tough shit.”

Rae stormed out of Evelyn’s room and into a room across the hall where she and Vinson were holding Jess in the building they called the Women’s Cloister. It was a large three-story barracks-style building that housed the majority of the unmarried women and most of the children. But as usual, they’d been drugged and would sleep through nearly anything.

**

“Wake her up,” she yelled at Vinson. “Get the stinking bitch up.”

Vinson slapped Jess in the face and shook her by the hair. She was out.

“Jesus, what did you do to her?” he asked.

“Just knocked her on the head and gave her chloroform for Christ’s sakes, that’s all.” She walked over to where Jess was sitting, tied to a chair.

“Wake up bitch.” She slapped her hard across the face. “Wake up, goddamnit!”

Jess moaned. Rae slapped her again, only harder. Jess opened her eyes and looked at Rae with horror.

“Where’s your cop boyfriend?” she hissed.

“Huh?”

“Did he send you here to get your sister? Is that it? Is he working with the feds?”

“He’s playing poker.” Jess had a crushing headache and felt nauseous.

Rae had ransacked her purse and found Del’s card and a very intimate love letter he’d written Jess at Christmas. The card identified him as Lt. F. Delano Carter, Chicago Police Detective, Violent Crimes. Rae was incensed.

“Is he out there with the feds? Is that it? Your cop lover! Did he follow you here?”

“He’s playing poker.”

Rae slapped her so hard it made the chair topple backward but Vinson caught the chair before it hit the ground and steadied it.

Jess spit out a mouthful of blood. “Go to hell!”

The next roundhouse blow knocked her out and sent her and the chair spinning. Vinson stepped aside and let it crash to the floor.

“So what are we going to do now?” he whined.

Rae shot him a malignant look and growled. “Do I have to think of everything you stupid fuck? You don’t have a goddamn clue, do you?”

“Hell no, I don’t have a clue! This is a goddamn nightmare! Her boyfriend’s a Chicago cop? This is incredible.”

“How much money have you already transferred?”

“Almost half of it.”

“Well, unfortunately that might have to be enough.”

 “But the plane’s not ready. It needs maintenance!” he howled.

“Well then I guess if anyone starts asking we tell them poor Evelyn just became too sick to travel and her poor sister seems to be down with the flu.”

“That’s really lame,” he moaned. “You got any better ideas?” He was near tears again.

“Not at the moment, you idiot.”