11. Calista
C alista~
It was a hell of a thing to be sneaking around your own home, yet here we were. While the blinds on the windows facing the back of my house were open, the ones on the front-facing windows were closed, and I was acting like a relocated snitch in the Witness Protection Program.
Luckly, Harvey wasn’t letting Louise and her crazy troupe affect him in any way, and I could see him playing in the backyard, the drapes on the sliding glass door also open to let the sunlight and humanity in.
I was also spending my Sunday preparing some of my reports for the visits that I had to conduct tomorrow, and while I did my best not to work on the weekends, prepping on Sunday always made for a better Monday.
As I was going over my second facility’s follow-up, my phone rang, and recognizing the ringtone, I answered it immediately. “What’s the haps?”
“Mitchell’s Aunt Judy is making everybody crazy, and I think Mitchell is serious about eloping now,” Abrielle said in lieu of a greeting. “He’s at the point where he’s about to disinvite her, ruining Christmas for all time.”
“I can see that,” I told her, having met Mitchell’s Aunt Judy once. “Well, I finally went to one of Louise’s prayer groups, and we’re pretty sure that it’s a sex cult, and that Louise and her fruit baskets might be luring unsuspecting innocents as a way to please her master, Jury Patton.”
“I’m sorry, but who’s we?” she asked, focusing on what was important.
“Me and Myer,” I answered. “My new neighbor.”
“The sexy guy from next door?” she practically squawked with excitement.
“Yep,” I replied cheekily. “His name is Myer, he works at the shipping yard, has a brother in the military, and he was my boyfriend for one whole hour last night.”
“Yeah, you’re going to have to start at the beginning, young lady,” she ordered.
Starting with the fruit basket, I told Abrielle everything from when Myer had helped me get rid of it to us sharing a beer last night, and I hadn’t left anything out. In case I came up missing, I needed someone else to know what was going on in the sunroom across the street.
When I was finished telling her everything, she said, “I never imagined that Louise would be into the kinky sex scene.”
“Right?” I snorted. “I mean, what’s more disturbing than a man defiling you in the name of God? I mean, it’s one thing to play priest and confessional booth when you’re roleplaying, but to actually use religion as a precursor to sex? Yeah, that’s wild.”
“So, is this Jury Patton guy really dangerous, or is Myer just being a guy?”
“I think a little bit of both,” I answered honestly. “Now, while I don’t think that Jury is really dangerous in the serial killer sense, I do think that he’s dangerous to vulnerable women. I think that he’s a predator and is trying to amass a small harem.”
“And Myer thinks that you’re on his list of potential members?”
“That’s what he says, but I don’t think that it’s that serious,” I replied with a sigh. “I think that Louise was just trying to please him by trying to lure me into their little group, but I don’t think that he’s going to attempt to kidnap me in broad daylight or anything like that.”
“Okay, so let’s table the cult across the street for a bit and get back to your sexy neighbor,” she said, her priorities always on point. “What else do you know about him, and do we for sure know that he’s single? No ring just means that he’s not married.”
“Well, when I went over to his house, it was completely masculine, no cups with lipstick stains on them or anything,” I told her. “Granted, all of her stuff could have been in the bedroom, but he seems like the type of guy that would enjoy having his girlfriend’s stuff strewn all over his house.”
“Because of the whole protective vibes that he was giving off?”
“That and...I don’t know,” I muttered. “He just seems...he seems like he’d be into PDA.”
“He looks like he’d be the type to be able to hold you up against the wall during sex,” she retorted. “I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”
“Well, it’d help if he actually showed some interest in me,” I pointed out. “He was very clear about not liking predators, and I think jumping him against his will would fall under that category.”
“But would it be against his will?” she posed. “That’s what we need to find out.”
“And how do we find that out?”
“Take him a freshly baked pie while wearing a low-cut shirt, then when you hand it to him, bend over just enough that he gets an unobstructed view down your shirt,” she suggested.
“If he’s interested, he’ll invite you in to share the pie.
If he’s not interested, then he’ll just shut the door in your face. ”
“And this freshly baked pie is coming from where?” I asked, pies not being my specialty. I was more of a cookies and cupcake kind of baker.
“Maybe we can buy one at the store, then dump it onto a plate,” she replied. “I mean, how knowledgeable is he about store-bought pies anyways? I think the switch-a-roo would work.”
“Maybe, but you’re also forgetting that my cleavage isn’t all that impressive,” I reminded her. “Something that you should know since we’re twins.”
“Boobs are boobs,” she replied easily. “No man cares how deep the cleavage is.”
“I beg to differ,” I argued. “Why else would push-up bras cost a fortune, and why else would us women pay the insane prices? Cleavage matters, sister o’mine.”
“Only to douchebags,” she countered. “Real men care about what’s inside.”
“Like the inside of our vaginas?”
Abrielle let out a genuine laugh. “Not all men are worthless.”
“No, they’re not,” I agreed. “But it does seem like they’re the only type that are single.”
“Well, to be fair, you have to actually leave the house and do something besides work to meet those nice guys,” she pointed out. “Unless he works for the post office or UPS, he’s not going to just show up at your doorstep, Calista.”
“Myer did,” I reminded her.
“I suppose you got me there,” she conceded. “But it doesn’t count if you don’t do something about it.”
“It should still count,” I argued.
“I can’t see how it would.”
“Can we get back to you, Mitchell, and Aunt Judy?” I asked, ready to move on from my lack of progress with Myer. “I mean, I’m all for you guys eloping, but I can also puncture holes in all of her tires on the day of the wedding.”
“And that’s what makes you my most favorite person in the world,” she sighed gratefully. “I can always count on you to help me whenever I need it.”
“Well, I’m always willing to sacrifice a little for the greater good,” I assured her.
“Let’s see if you still feel the same when Mom forces you to have a big wedding to make up for me and Mitchell eloping,” she remarked pointedly.
“Then it’s a good thing that I’m single,” I quipped.
“Not if the pie works.”
“I’m not going to start a new relationship on a foundation of deceit,” I told her primly. “What if it becomes his most favorite dessert and expects me to bake it all the time?”
“Okay, that’s a valid point,” she muttered. “But the low-cut shirt thing might still work.”
I did a quick mental rolodex of my closet and came up with nothing. “I don’t have anything sexy like that in my wardrobe. I’d have to borrow something of yours.”
“I don’t have any sexy clothing,” she informed me. “Mitchell prefers sweats and t-shirts.”
That surprised me. “Really? He does?”
“He says that it’s easier to undress me when I’m rocking the homeless look,” she replied.
“He’s got a point.”
“Okay, well...let me know if I have to run interference with your cult, and I’ll let you know if I need you to slash all of Aunt Judy’s tires,” she said, signaling that this conversation was over.
“Will do,” I replied before hanging up the phone.
After a few seconds, instead of getting back to my prep work, I grabbed my laptop, then looked up Jury Patton.
While I still didn’t believe that he was dangerous, it wasn’t a bad idea to find out as much as I could about him and what they were doing across the street.
Plus, armed with the names of his little cult members, maybe I could find out what their stories were.
Three hours later, my eyes were dry and scratchy, and I was borderline terrified of religion now.
While I couldn’t find any personal social media accounts on Jury Patton, there’d been plenty of religious ones, and I wasn’t sure which Bible he was getting his inspiration from, but it was clearly not the King James version.
In fact, whatever it was, I was certain that there was a pentagram on the front.