Part 45 (2/2)
”Jennifer Cannon was a McGill student. So is Anna Goyette. Heidi and Brian were also in school when they joined Owens' group. Can you find out if Carole Comptois had any university ties? Took a course or worked at a college?”
”She was a hooker.”
”Maybe she won a scholars.h.i.+p,” I snapped. His negative att.i.tude was irritating me.
”O.K., O.K. Don't get your bra in a twist.”
”Ryan . . .” I hesitated, not wanting to give reality to my fear by shaping it into words.
He waited.
”My sister registered for her seminar at a community college in Texas.”
The line was quiet.
”Her son called me yesterday because he can't contact her. Neither can I.”
”She may be hunkered in as part of the training. You know, like a retreat. Maybe she's laid a grid map over her soul and she's combing it inch by inch. But if you're really worried, call the college.”
”Yeah.”
”Just because she enrolled in the Lone Star State doesn't m-”
”I realize I'm being absurd, but Kathryn's words frightened me, and now Dom Owens is out there planning G.o.d knows what.”
”We'll nail his a.s.s.”
”I know.”
”Brennan, how do I say this?” He drew a long breath, let it out. ”Your sister is going through a transition, and right now she's open to new relations.h.i.+ps. She may have met someone and gone off for a few days.”
Without her curling iron? Anxiety lodged like a cold, dense ma.s.s inside my chest.
When we disconnected I tried Harry again. In my mind's eye I saw the phone ringing in my empty condo. Where could she be at seven on a Sunday morning?
Sunday. d.a.m.n! I couldn't call the college until tomorrow.
I made coffee then rang Kit, even though it was an hour earlier in Texas.
He was polite but groggy, and didn't follow my line of questioning. When he finally began to comprehend, he was unsure if his mother's course had been a regular college offering. He thought he remembered literature, and promised to drop by her house to check.
I couldn't sit still. I opened the Observer Observer, then the Belanger journals. I even tried the Sunday morning evangelists. Neither crime nor Louis-Philippe nor Jeeee-zus could hold my attention. I was a mental cul-de-sac with no outlet.
Not really in the mood, I threw on running gear and headed out. The sky was clear, the air soft and balmy as I followed Queens Road West, then cut over on Princeton to Freedom Park. Sweat droplets changed to rivulets as my Nikes pounded past the lagoon. Little ducks glided single file behind their mother, their quacks drifting on the Sunday morning air.
My thoughts remained jumbled and useless, the players and events of the past weeks running in circles around my brain. I tried to focus on the steady beat of my sneakers, the rhythm of my breath, but I kept hearing Ryan's phrase. New relations.h.i.+ps. Is that what he and Harry had called their Hurley's night? Is that what I'd danced into with my adventure with Ryan on the Melanie Tess Melanie Tess?
I traversed the park, ran north past the medical clinic, then snaked my way through the narrow streets of Myers Park. I pa.s.sed flawless gardens and parklike lawns, here and there tended by an equally impeccable homeowner.
I'd just crossed Providence Road when I nearly collided with a man in tan slacks, a pink s.h.i.+rt, and a rumpled seersucker sports jacket that looked like a Sears original. He carried a battered briefcase and a canvas bag bulging with slide carousels. It was Red Skyler.
”Slumming in southeast?” I asked, trying to catch my breath. Red lived on the opposite side of Charlotte, near the university.
”My lecture at Myers Park Methodist is today.” He gestured at the gray stone complex across the street. ”I've come early to set my slides.”
”Right.” I was slick with sweat, and my hair hung in stringy, wet clumps. I pinched my T-s.h.i.+rt and flapped it away from my skin.
”How is your case progressing?”
”Not well. Owens and his followers have gone to ground.”
”They're in hiding?”
”Apparently. Red, can I follow up on something you said?”
”Of course.”
”When we discussed cults, you mentioned two broad types. We talked so much about one I forgot to ask about the other.”
A man pa.s.sed with a black Standard poodle. Both needed a trim.
”You said you would include some of the commercially packaged awareness programs in your definition.”
”Yes. If they rely on thought reform to get and keep members.” He set the bag on the sidewalk and scratched the side of his nose.
”I think you said these groups fill their ranks by persuading partic.i.p.ants to buy more and more courses?”
”Yes. Unlike the cults we discussed, these programs don't intend to keep people forever. They exploit partic.i.p.ants as long as they're willing to buy more courses. And bring in others.”
”So why do you consider them cults?”
”The coercive influence that these so-called self-improvement programs exert is amazing. It's the same old thing, behavioral control through thought reform.”
”What goes on in these awareness training programs?”
Red glanced at his watch.
”I finish at ten forty-five. Let's meet for breakfast and I'll share what I know.”
”It's known as large group awareness training.”
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