Chapter 15
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Tetrachordian Temple meeting was being held in the basement of a local recreation center. The place was located in North Seattle, but the rec center was older. It wasn’t falling apart, or in a particularly bad neighborhood, but it had the feel of decayed gentrification.
At one point, the building had been revitalized, but over the past decade or so, once again the neighborhood was slowly falling into disrepair.
Oh, the houses surrounding the rec center were nice enough, and there were no bars on the windows or doors like there were in south Seattle, but the people who lived here probably couldn’t afford to sell.
There were no houses to move to that would be in their price range at this point.
They would live out their lives in the slow decline of a city whose economy was rapidly outstripping the wages of those who kept it going.
Most of the houses had been built during the 60s, on sloping lots that ended with a high concrete retaining wall, and a long narrow set of concrete stairs leading up to chain-link fences that surrounded the yard. But the rec center was level with the sidewalk.
On the corner, with a small parking lot attached to the side, the building stood two stories high, with a basement, and at one time had probably proven popular among the neighborhood children.
But now, the children had grown up and moved far away.
And their parents continue to live here, growing older like the houses they lived in.
“There are so many neighborhoods like this around the city,” I said. “All the houses are still nice enough, or they would be with some TLC. But I guess it probably makes sense to raze them and put in a series of accessibility-friendly condos, priced for the middle-income sector of the city.”
Penn gave a small shrug. “Ideally, but I doubt that it will happen. The developers are greedy, and the people who live here love their space, I doubt if they’d want to move into a multiunit facility. Besides, think of the character that neighborhoods like this add to Seattle.”
“Maybe so, but unless a younger set moves in and takes over, these houses are going to eventually be empty and then you’re going to have another neighborhood sprawl of urban decay.” I pushed open the door to the rec center and we wandered inside.
A bulletin board to our left showed the activities for the week, and as I peeked at them, I realized that this place had gone from a kids’ center to a senior center.
Next to the bulletin board was a reception booth. “Hi,” I said to the woman manning the desk. “Can you tell me where the meeting for the Tetrachordian Temple is being held?”
She smiled, consulting a clipboard. “In the basement, room 2E.” She pointed to a sandwich board pointing toward the basement door which announced the meeting, along with the time. It looked homemade, although whoever did the calligraphy had done a fairly nice job.
“Thank you,” I said.
“No problem. We’re open till eleven, should you have any other questions,” she said.
“Have you thought of our stories?” Penn asked as we headed toward the basement.
“I thought we’d mainly just listen tonight, to get a feel for what’s going on.
We can just say we work in an office together.
” I paused and then added, “On the way here, I decided to do as you suggested. I’m going to call the FBSI and give them all the information on Give A Hands Up.
It’s too big of an organization for us to take on by ourselves. ”
“I think that’s best. It’s also been entrenched far too long for us to make much of a dent.
The FBSI has investigative tools and tricks to which we don’t have access.
And there are too many people involved. Too many chances for someone to rat us out, and if we compromised our investigation, a lot more people could die and we’d be responsible. ”
We clattered down the stairs and Penn pointed to the right. Down the hall, four doors to the left, there was a sign matching the one upstairs.
“Well, here we are. Shall we go in?” She waited for my nod, then pulled open the door and walked into the room in front of me.
* * *
As we entered the room, there was a buzz in the air.
There were actually more people than I expected to see, at least twenty or thirty, and a sense of expectation hung heavy around us.
I scanned the faces of the attendees, and the common denominator was hope.
Hope in their eyes, and a willingness to believe that maybe something might make a difference in their lives. They truly were waiting for something.
“They’ve really hyped this,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Let’s get our seats. I want to be in front, so that we have a clear view of whoever’s leading this shindig.”
Penn nodded, threading her way through the crowd toward the front row of chairs. We chose middle seats with the clearest view of the podium. As we sat there, I kept up my guard, wanting to remain as unassuming as possible.
A few moments past eight, a woman emerged from a door in back of the podium and took her place behind the microphone.
She was dressed in a jacket with big shoulder pads, a pencil skirt, and a pair of neutral pumps.
Her hair was a mile-high, blonde to the point of platinum and it looked molded into place.
She tapped on the mic, sending a feedback loop through the room, then cleared her throat.
“If you could all take your seats, we’ll get started.
Thank you.” She stood back as Penn and I watched her closely.
There was something off about her—at first it seemed like a charm of some sort that made me unwilling to look away.
But then, I realized it wasn’t that. Penn had Fae glamour, and I could look away from her.
Lazenti had vampire glamour, and I could resist him. So this had to be something different.
The crowd quieted down almost immediately as everybody scrambled for seats. The woman glanced around the room and, after another moment, cleared her throat again.
“I’m Analee Thomas, and I’m going to be introducing your speaker for the evening.
But first, I want to tell you a story. Some years ago, I was sitting right where you are.
I was lonely, and felt like the only thing I had going for me was the fact that I made it through each day without melting down.
I was in a dead-end job. I had no one in my life who gave a damn about me.
My friends were all moving on in life and I was stuck in a rut.
I didn’t feel good, but the doctor just said it was just anxiety.
That stress was wearing me down. So you know what happened? ”
She waited until several members of the audience called out “What?” and “Tell us!”
“One night, I left work and I happened to see a signboard advertising a meeting for those seeking comfort and calmness in their lives. Just like the advertisements that brought you here. And for some reason, even though I’d tried everything, I decided to attend the meeting.
That ushered in the biggest change I’ve ever had in my life.
Now, I have a fulfilling job. I’m happily married.
I have meaning and purpose in my life, and I get to help others the way I was given help.
” She paused, smiling, as though waiting for someone to cheer her on.
An excited murmur ran through the crowds and she got the applause she was waiting for. Penn and I clapped along, not wanting to stand out.
A moment later, Analee tapped the mic again. “Now, with your permission, I’d like to introduce our guest speaker for the evening. May I present Dr. Erik Stengale, the founding father of the Tetrachordian Temple.” She began vigorously clapping as she stepped away from the podium.
I noticed a massive rock on her left ring finger. Were they married? For sure, she reminded me of some evangelical preacher’s wife, with the big hair, spider-leg eyelashes, and way too much rouge. But she didn’t mention him being her husband, and he didn’t give her more than an approving nod.
The man who took her place struck me as odd, even more than Analee. Dr. Erik Stengale was tall and blonde, with piercing hazel eyes. He was tanned, as though he spent a lot of time on a beach in the tropics, or he had a close relationship with a tanning salon. Instantly, I distrusted him.
Penn poked me in the arm and leaned close. “He’s a snake.”
“Literally?” Given the deflated body of Mark Ryles, anything referring to snakes or the snake family pinged an alarm.
She shook her head. “I don’t think so… But it’s the same feeling I get around snakes. There’s something alien about him.” Penn froze, staring at the speaker. “He’s under a glamour, but I can’t see beneath the illusion.”
I nodded, filing it away. “All right, see if you can suss out anything else. And we’d better hush. Analee is looking at us.”
I glanced over at the woman, who was sitting to the side of the podium, her gaze fastened on us. I met her eyes. After a moment, she blinked and looked away.
Turning back to Erik, I tried to focus on what he was saying, but the words sounded oddly jumbled to me, and try as I might, I couldn’t pinpoint exactly what he was trying to say.
It was as though the words coming out of his mouth were in English, but by the time they landed in my ears, they sounded like another language. I glanced at Penn.
She frowned, tilting her head to the side.
After a moment, she met my gaze. I gave her a little shrug, which she repeated back.
We both turned back to Erik, who was rattling away as though nothing was off.
I surreptitiously cast a glance around the rest of the audience.
Some looked bewildered, but a few were crying.
“Am I missing something?” Penn whispered, but Analee stood and headed our way.
She leaned over. “Please refrain from talking during the presentation,” she said, a stern look on her face.
“I’m sorry,” Penn said, ducking her head.