Jason detailed Jeannine Highsmith’s lawsuit against the mission, and Diana told him what Lucier had found out. “Plenty of recent articles in the paper, all praising his work. Th e Brother Osiris moniker is a bit pretentious, but, hey, whatever works.
“Okay, Diana, what’s the story? You wouldn’t be checking into this if something damn interesting wasn’t going on. Wanna fill me in?”
“Not yet, because I have no idea what all this means. When I know, I’ll get back to you . F air enough?”
“Sounds good. Now my interest is piqued.”
“ Thanks for the info. Send me a bill. I emailed you my address, didn’t I?”
“No charge. My pleasure. Besides, I don’t think I got anything you couldn’t have gotten yourself.”
“I doubt that. Besides , you do it fast and thoroughly. Send me the bill, Jason. I mean it. I may need you again, and I don’t want to feel like I can’t call on you because you won’t charge me.”
“Okay, if you insist. I’ll fax you everything I found on Compton, credit card charges, etc. Those things go to his accountant.” Jason laughed. “His computer was tough but not impenetrable, except I couldn’t access Compton’s tax records. His accountant must remove them from his electronic database. Most everything else is tangled in that big shell game I mentioned. ”
“What about Slater’s money?”
“ The man doesn’t even own a credit card. The Mission does, but not Slater. Most of the charges are for supplies, food, like that. He draws an annual salary of eight thousand dollars , and doesn’t spend much of it. He rents a room in a boarding house, eats at the mission, and I suppose spends money for clothes. Looks lik e the way he lives, he must have some money in an account , but I couldn’t find it .”
“Thanks, Jason. You know I love you.”
“Yeah, like a friend. I know.”
Diana tapped her phone shut. Why would someone like Silas Compton fund the Sunrise M ission? What was in it for him, and what the hell did it mean?
Chapter Sixteen
The Invitation
L ucier picked up the phone in his office.
“Lieutenant Lucier, Ralph Stallings here . Thought you’d be interested in one other set of prints we found at 107 Parkside besides Compton’s.”
“You bet.”
“Another big Louisiana name: Fernando Reyes.”
Lucier’s head went into a spin. “Another multi-millionaire. What’s going on here?”
“Haven’t a clue. What do you make of it?”
“Has he ever been connected to a fringe religious group or cult?”
“Not that we can find. When we asked both men what their prints were doing in that house, Compton divulged that he and Reyes were the owners, saving us a lot of trouble unraveling the mess of paperwork. He said they went to look the place over before they bought it. Their plans fell through, so they hired an agency to rent it out. Only knew of Deems by name. Never met him, they said.”
“How could Deems afford a house like that on a janitor’s salary?” Lucier asked. “And if he rented it , why was he trading off a bed at the mission for work? It doesn’t make sense.”
“The guy offed himself before anyone had a chance to ask.”
“Damn. I suppose Reyes didn’t know anything about the drawings on the wall.”
“Right you are. Compton received no complaints from the agency. The renter paid on time, and that’s all he cared about.”
“Sorry, but that doesn’t ring true. S atanic meetings went on there, and Compton knows about them. Deems didn’t have friends with the expensive cars parked at the house during what he called their card games .”
“Why would a guy like Compton be involved in the black arts and kidnapping babies? If he is, we’d sure like to know. He’s a major thorn in the side of government. My bosses in Washington are salivat ing to get something on him. I don’t suppose Ms. Racine would go with you while you interviewed Compton, would she? I know she stopped helping law enforcement long before that
“Okay, Diana, what’s the story? You wouldn’t be checking into this if something damn interesting wasn’t going on. Wanna fill me in?”
“Not yet, because I have no idea what all this means. When I know, I’ll get back to you . F air enough?”
“Sounds good. Now my interest is piqued.”
“ Thanks for the info. Send me a bill. I emailed you my address, didn’t I?”
“No charge. My pleasure. Besides, I don’t think I got anything you couldn’t have gotten yourself.”
“I doubt that. Besides , you do it fast and thoroughly. Send me the bill, Jason. I mean it. I may need you again, and I don’t want to feel like I can’t call on you because you won’t charge me.”
“Okay, if you insist. I’ll fax you everything I found on Compton, credit card charges, etc. Those things go to his accountant.” Jason laughed. “His computer was tough but not impenetrable, except I couldn’t access Compton’s tax records. His accountant must remove them from his electronic database. Most everything else is tangled in that big shell game I mentioned. ”
“What about Slater’s money?”
“ The man doesn’t even own a credit card. The Mission does, but not Slater. Most of the charges are for supplies, food, like that. He draws an annual salary of eight thousand dollars , and doesn’t spend much of it. He rents a room in a boarding house, eats at the mission, and I suppose spends money for clothes. Looks lik e the way he lives, he must have some money in an account , but I couldn’t find it .”
“Thanks, Jason. You know I love you.”
“Yeah, like a friend. I know.”
Diana tapped her phone shut. Why would someone like Silas Compton fund the Sunrise M ission? What was in it for him, and what the hell did it mean?
Chapter Sixteen
The Invitation
L ucier picked up the phone in his office.
“Lieutenant Lucier, Ralph Stallings here . Thought you’d be interested in one other set of prints we found at 107 Parkside besides Compton’s.”
“You bet.”
“Another big Louisiana name: Fernando Reyes.”
Lucier’s head went into a spin. “Another multi-millionaire. What’s going on here?”
“Haven’t a clue. What do you make of it?”
“Has he ever been connected to a fringe religious group or cult?”
“Not that we can find. When we asked both men what their prints were doing in that house, Compton divulged that he and Reyes were the owners, saving us a lot of trouble unraveling the mess of paperwork. He said they went to look the place over before they bought it. Their plans fell through, so they hired an agency to rent it out. Only knew of Deems by name. Never met him, they said.”
“How could Deems afford a house like that on a janitor’s salary?” Lucier asked. “And if he rented it , why was he trading off a bed at the mission for work? It doesn’t make sense.”
“The guy offed himself before anyone had a chance to ask.”
“Damn. I suppose Reyes didn’t know anything about the drawings on the wall.”
“Right you are. Compton received no complaints from the agency. The renter paid on time, and that’s all he cared about.”
“Sorry, but that doesn’t ring true. S atanic meetings went on there, and Compton knows about them. Deems didn’t have friends with the expensive cars parked at the house during what he called their card games .”
“Why would a guy like Compton be involved in the black arts and kidnapping babies? If he is, we’d sure like to know. He’s a major thorn in the side of government. My bosses in Washington are salivat ing to get something on him. I don’t suppose Ms. Racine would go with you while you interviewed Compton, would she? I know she stopped helping law enforcement long before that
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