That tiny moment of competence seemed to rocket-boost Tabitha’s energy. Once they locked their purses in the Sentra and grabbed their windbreakers, she took the lead, setting a brisk pace through the oak forest with its canopy of Spanish moss.
“Crucial decision ahead,” Mia said lightly when they stepped out onto the public beach. She flipped one hand to point northwest, the other southeast. “Want to see more ocean or mainland?”
Tabby squinted in both directions before pointing to the right. “Mainland. More privacy,” she said, which sounded hopeful. Then she proceeded to trudge silently alongside Mia for the better part of five minutes.
Just when Mia was about to give up and launch a gentle interrogation, Tabitha took a deep breath. “Four times a year, when we turn sixteen, my church does this special ceremony.”
“This is about First Faith?”
Though Mia thought she had kept her startlement low-key, Tabitha recoiled. “See? You look shocked already.” She wheeled as if to return to the car.
Mia lunged and caught her hand. “Tab, no. It’s fine. I was just expecting to hear about a boy.”
Something flickered across Tabitha’s face and she stopped tugging—maybe a subtle confirmation Mia was headed in the right direction.
“You have to admit that’s usually how the Gibson gullibility gene shows up.”
As Mia released her, one corner of Tabitha’s mouth curled in a reluctant smile. “Gullibility gene?”
Mia began a tally on her fingers. “Great-grandmother, grandmother, two aunts. Our own parental unit, plus yours truly. Four generations of women with trouble of the masculine variety. Doesn’t that sound genetic to you?”
“I suppose.”
They fell into step again.
“So,” Mia prompted, “you turn sixteen and First Faith does what, exactly?”
“They take the eligible kids in the youth group and do this recommitment ceremony.”
“Like confirmations in the Catholic church.”
Tabitha shrugged. “I guess. The girls all get floaty dresses and put flowers in their hair. The guys wear these white three-piece suits which, okay, look pretty dumb.”
“Not a fan of John Travolta?”
“Who?”
“Never mind,” Mia said dryly. At twenty-six she was clearly over the hill. “Carry on.”
“On Sunday, they hold this special service in front of the whole congregation. Then we have lunch in the dining hall, and all the parents make speeches about how proud they are, and stuff.”
“Okay.” Thus far, this all sounded pretty unremarkable.
“Then we get bussed to the Away House for a week.”
It took a moment, but when the words penetrated her brain, Mia’s feet ground to a halt. The Away House was an enormous compound in one of the island’s most exclusive plantations.
Mia jerked a thumb in its direction. “The one up the road from here? You were there in the spring?”
Tabitha nodded, her eyes wary.
“I see.” Mia swung into movement again. It hurt that Tabby had been in such close proximity, yet no one had told Mia, even if only so she could be on standby for medical emergencies. Apparently Garrett had the right of it; without Mia’s intent or understanding, they had grown distant from one another.
No wonder Tabby had thought twice about coming to stay.
As if sensing the direction of Mia’s thoughts, Tabitha said, “We didn’t call because I was going to be too busy to see you. Plus… Mom knows how you feel about First Faith. She figured you’d be upset.”
“Well, Nadine is wrong,” Mia said flatly. “I don’t know enough to form an opinion.”
She comforted herself it wasn’t a complete lie.
Garrett’s dislike of her meant she seldom stayed overnight in Charleston. But a few years back Mia had, going so far as to accompany the whole family to a Sunday service. The experience had been overwhelming, not only in scale but scope. First Faith was huge, with something like twenty-thousand regular attendees. And the atmosphere struck her as too happy-happy in a cultish sort of way.
But to be fair that was probably a matter of taste and familiarity. When married to Mia’s dad and Evan, husband number two, Nadine had been in her Presbyterian stage.
“I prefer a more bare-bones church, but if it makes you happy,” Mia said, “I’m happy.” And if it caused your three months of sadness, I will kill the responsible party.
No. She would maim them first. Then kill them. Then feed their bones to vultures, though locating the scavengers in North America might be a problem.
“It’s not about happiness. It’s about devotion to the Lord,” Tabitha said primly, then spoiled the effect by leaping over a heap of seaweed and laughing when she lost a flip-flop. She retrieved it, slipped off the second one, and resumed walking barefoot, shoes dangling from her hand. “Plus, most of my friends go there.”
Mia nodded. “Friends are good. Did they go with you on this weekend jaunt?”
There was an unmistakable stiffening of Tabitha’s shoulders “No. They’re all older. But they mostly told me what to expect.”
“Which was…?” Mia prompted when Tabitha hesitated.
“Lots of prayer. Group stuff, too, like games and talking.” Tabitha’s face grew stony. “And we all spent time alone with the youth pastor so he could help us discover our mission in Christ.”
As Tabitha shot her a sideways glance, Mia shoved her fists into her pockets, certain the knuckles had gone white. She strove to keep her expression blank, though she had a horrible suspicion where the conversation was headed.
“I didn’t know you were ambitious in that way,” Mia said carefully.
“Yup. I’ve always wanted to go to Africa after senior year. To help in the orphanages.”
“That’s admirable.” When Mia turned eighteen, her only thought had been of escaping home.
“Think so?” Tabitha peeped through the strands of hair that the breeze had blown over her face.
“Definitely.” Mia bumped Tabitha’s shoulder with her own. “Though you’re pretty damn special as you are.”
“That’s what Pastor Veras said. He said—he called me exceptional.”
“And?” Mia said after a prolonged pause.
“He said he was proud of me. He said that it was rare for someone to be young, smart, rich, and beautiful and still love the Lord enough to consider others.” She ducked her head. “Then he asked if I was ready to take the next step in my spiritual growth.”
Mia’s nails bit into her palms. “What did you say?”
“That I was scared, but I wanted to. Because I did.” Tabitha raised her chin and stopped walking. She turned toward Mia.
In a recitation that began haltingly and became more fluid as she spoke, Tabitha described how they had brainstormed ideas, until Pastor Veras wound his way to the ultimate invitation: In First Faith’s worldwide fight against poverty, would Tabby wish to contribute anything meaningful?
Yes, had been her enthusiastic answer. Definitely.
All that remained was the matter of how.
She had thought first of the trust fund set up by her father, but discarded it as being inaccessible for another five years. Next, she offered her monthly allowance, which the pastor gently rejected as being unearned, flowing as it did from her parents without any measure of personal sacrifice.
Then, in a moment of inspiration, flushed with the fulsomeness of his praise, she reached under the neckline of her dress to unfasten a clasp. And when Pastor Veras’s fist closed around the gift from Tabby’s late paternal grandmother, she had finally thrilled to see the joy on his face.
“He was really pleased for my soul,” Tabitha said.
I’ll just bet, Mia thought. That necklace was worth an easy $20,000—enough to earn a generous dose of holy fervor, if given to the corrupt.
Aloud she said, “I’m surprised Nadine let you wear it for the ceremony.”
Tabby’s mouth twisted.
“Ah,” Mia said in dawning understanding. They trudged on in silence. “Not that it matters, but how’d you get it out of the safe?”
“I told you, I’m good at that stuff.”
Mia nodded. “What happened after that?”
“I-I didn’t sleep very well that night. And when I woke up, I knew I’d made a mistake. I asked to speak to Pastor Veras alone, and I confessed I’d been filled with false pride. I told him that I’d given him a family heirloom without asking permission, and I needed it back. I promised to find a way to make it up to the church.”
“That was brave of you.”
“But it didn’t work.” Tabby raised her face, her eyes miserable. “I don’t know how to explain it, but it was almost like he expected it. Like he was happy that I was upset.”
Because he had tangible power over you. Mia nodded, unable to speak.
“He said it was normal for me to be scared. That the Great Deceiver always made people doubt themselves when they took a big step on their faith journey. He said he had to protect me from my worst impulses and if I prayed on it enough, he was sure I’d be okay. But if I decided I couldn’t help the orphans right now, I should come back with Mom and Garrett. He’d explain the situation, and all three of them could provide the proper spiritual support.”
So basically he’d offered Tabitha a one-two punch of religious guilt and parental punishment.
And yet…though it was obvious Tabitha found this solution abhorrent, Mia didn’t quite understand why. Tabitha’s misery could have ended months ago if she’d been willing to confess. “And you don’t want to do that.”
“No! I can’t. And he knows that because I—because he—” Tabitha pressed her hands to her eyes and inhaled deeply. “Because he’s counseled me before, and he knows Mom and Garrett are on the rocks.”
Mia discovered she had to sit. “Truly?”
Yet more evidence of how far she was out of the loop. Though she might not be Garrett’s biggest fan, after seven years and two children together, she thought Nadine had found a measure of contentment with him.
Tabitha nodded in misery.
“Well, damn.”
“It’s bad.” Tabitha flopped down beside Mia. “They fight all the time.” She kicked at the sand with her feet and stared absently out at the water.
Mia heaved a sigh. “Any particular theme?”
“Money. The boys. How to handle me.” Tabby pulled a face. “I don’t think they’re going to make it, and I know what you’re gonna say, but you can just forget it.”
“What was I going to say?”
The wildness was back in Tabitha’s eyes. “That I should suck it up and tell them anyway, even if it breaks them up.”
“Actually, I would suggest you leave Garrett out of it. Nadine has her faults, and she’d make your life miserable for a while, but—”
Tabitha vehemently shook her head. “Pastor Veras was very specific. It has to be both of them or he won’t give me back my necklace.”
So this so-called man of God, using confidential information gleaned during therapy, had offered Tabitha the choice of breaking up her family or remaining under his power. For a moment, Mia thought she would be sick.
“Tab, honey, you can’t predict what’ll happen if you involve them. They might actually be relieved to help. And you’re sixteen. It’s not your responsibility to take care of the adults. I—”
“I don’t care about them.” Tabitha swiped at the tears trickling from the corners of her eyes. “Screw Nadine and Garrett.” Her laugh was bitter. “Well, not literally, but you know what I mean. It’s Cameron and Carl. I don’t want them to have to come from a broken home, too. It’s bullshit to never see your dad. To always wonder if it’s your fault. To have to get used to another city and another school and another father. Total bullshit.”
Mia sighed. “I can’t argue with you there.”
A wave- and gull-filled silence fell as Tabby dabbed at her face and Mia sorted out her thoughts. When she felt ready, she laid one hand over Tabby’s. “I’m going to ask you a few questions. If you can be honest with me, I promise I can handle it, no matter what you say.”
“Okay,” Tabitha said in a quavering voice.
Mia’s heart was thundering in her chest. “Could this pastor have given you anything in the way of alcohol or drugs?”
“Roofie me? No. But in a way I wish he had, you know? I wouldn’t feel so much like worm slime.”
“I get it.” And Mia did. This was the worst thing about learning the extent of your own gullibility—the self-loathing, the guilt. The understanding you could never trust your own opinions or instincts again. Put that against a backdrop of adolescence and, well, it was no wonder Tabitha had become moody and withdrawn.
Now for the most important question of all. God, she hoped she was handling this right.
“Did he touch you, or even try?”
Tabitha turned her head to face Mia. Her eyes had formed into glittering slits. “I would have twisted his balls off first.”
“Good girl.” Mia nodded. “Stomp them flat while you’re at it.”
Tabitha laughed and eyed Mia with appreciation. “You’re a lot more fierce than I expected.”
“You have no idea,” Mia vowed.
“Good. Because I need your help.”
No doubt the aforementioned plan to remedy the situation. “Let me take a wild, crazy, off-the-charts guess. You want to steal your necklace back.”
“It’s not stealing if it’s mine,” Tabby said, her face filled with a sly expression.
“I’m not sure it’s yours anymore if you gave it of your own free will.”
Tabby straightened, her eyes flashing. “At sixteen?”
“I’m not sure. I’m not a lawyer. But, Tab, consider…” Mia shuffled to her knees, faced her sister. “You’re probably not the only one he’s done this to. A minister with the power to emotionally blackmail people? You read the news. You know what that could mean for some kids. Especially the ones who don’t have a bossy older sister to talk to.”
Tabitha’s eyes narrowed. “You just said I’m not responsible for other people.”
“And you’re not.” But as an adult, Mia certainly was. She couldn’t and wouldn’t forget that.
But first she would get Tabby out from under Pastor Veras’s influence, and in the process, forge a stronger sisterly bond. After, with Tabby safely extricated, there would be nothing to stop Mia from placing an anonymous phone call…
She stood and offered a hand, hauling Tabby to her feet. “I’m not saying I’ll go along with it but tell me your plan.”
And Tabitha did, in a surprisingly cogent manner. As if she had been thinking this over for months. As if she had the potential to overcome her Gibson DNA and, one day, become a duper rather than a dupee.
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