Page 19 of Rescued By the Operative

She nods and gives a small smile. “And mysteriously, I never conceived again. So it all worked out.”

Mary holds my gaze a second too long, giving everything away. She went against her husband’s wishes and requested to have her tubes tied without his knowledge. Thank god. Nine children are already too much for one body. And she wanted me to know.

Pleased at discovering that Mary has a rebellious streak, I angle for more information.

“It must be difficult for you, being alone without your husband,” I say. “Not being allowed to leave the house without permission from the elders. Having to care for other people’s kids.”

She gives an odd smile. “I miss his occasional company very much. And I’m sorry that the youngest child will grow up without their father. But to tell you the truth, not much has changed for me.”

“How so?”

Mary gestures around the meager space. “I didn’t have enough before, and I still don’t have enough to scrape by.”

“According to the principles of the church, widows are supposed to be provided for. You’re supposed to be married to someone else within months, so you don’t fall into poverty.”

She laughs ruefully and sits down at the table while a few of the older children begin cleaning up dishes, pots, and pans. “I’ve never not had to stretch every dollar that came my way.”

I try, “Was Trace in trouble with the elders because of it?”

Might as well dig into the murders if I can’t get information about forced domestic servitude.

The look Mary gives me is severe. “He was no different than any of them.”

I nod. “It must be difficult to feed everyone you’re responsible for.”

She looks at me like I’m crazy. “It’s not difficult. There are silos out there chock full of food. The problem is, they think we have to save it all for the apocalypse. You know this, Wynella. Yougrew up in the Wyoming church, didn’t you? You’re a Smith and you’re from the Barkers.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She seems a little exasperated with me. “So, you know how it works. We have to suffer in this life to be glorified in the next.”

Yeah, I do know this from my research and from hanging around these people for the last while. But when she says it so forcefully, it lacks the ring of truth. Mary doesn’t believe the words coming out of her own mouth.

I put on a phony, wistful face. “I never had children because of my health issues. Sometimes it’s easy to forget what it’s like for everyone having to feed so many kids. I can see, as in the case of Elder Trace, why it would make a person depressed.”

She says nothing but gulps down what remains at the bottom of the bowl in front of her.

“Is that why he disappeared in the mountains? He was overwhelmed by everything? That’s what I heard. I had an uncle who did that. Just abandoned his family and went into the woods and took his own life. It was terrible.”

Mary glances over her shoulder to make sure none of the children are listening. Most of them have gone outside.

“Trace didn’t kill himself, Wynella. The Prophet had him shot dead for asking questions. He didn’t want to hand over his daughters to another elder.”

I blink at her and lean forward, hoping to god my mic is working.

“You’re telling me they killed your husband to get him out of the way?”

“I’m telling you they’re monsters and they’re killing off their own.”

I swallow hard. “I’m sure that’s not still happening now that Orlyn Moffatt is in jail.”

She blinks at me. “You really don’t know how things work in Montana, do you?”

“Who else has The Prophet ordered dead?” I whisper, a smile pulling at my lips.

The list she gives me is astonishing. She ticks off at least twelve people on her fingers.

My blood runs cold. I’ve investigated mob bosses. Drug kingpins. Weapons smugglers. Child traffickers. The worst of the worst.