Sister Wife

By Natalie Collins

Prophesied to be the catalyst in a modern-day Armageddon, Kelsey Waite flees a life in Utah, freeing herself from a polygamous lifestyle and abusive father. Ten years later, her new life in California leaves her with an illusion of safety, one that rapidly unravels when she returns home from work to find her neighbor murdered and her daughter missing.

Realizing the two are linked, she is forced to return to Utah and face her demons--and the charismatic cult leader who believes she is destined to be his second wife.

Will her sheer strength of will and determination be enough to save both herself, and her daughter, from the cult?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Natalie Collins
• Release date: Dec 9, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465982933

Natalie Collins

Natalie R. Collins has eight published books, several others in various stages of publishing, and is currently working on her next one... or two... or three. She has dabbled in both dark suspense and cozy mysteries, and is happy to be able to work in both genres.In addition to writing for Binary Press Publications, she has written for Penguin Putnam, Thompson Gale, and still currently has a contract with St. Martin’s Press, awaiting her third book with them, TIES THAT BIND, coming in August 2012.Her critically acclaimed WIVES AND SISTERS received excellent reviews, including one from Kirkus, calling Collins “...a talent to watch.”Natalie has worked as an editor for the Sundance Film Festival, as well as the largest daily newspaper in Utah.

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316

SISTER WIFE

By Natalie R. Collins

Smashwords Edition

PUBLISHED BY:

Natalie R. Collins/Sisterhood Publications

Sister Wife

Copyright © 2011 by Sisterhood Publications

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American

Copyright Conventions.

This is a work of fiction, so you’re wrong. Those people you think you know? You don’t. I made them up.

Cover design by NM Draney

Also by Natalie R. Collins

The Fourth World

Twisted Sister

Wives and Sisters

Behind Closed Doors

Tutu Deadly

Tapped Out

Pointe and Shoot

*****

Sister Wife

*****

For Jeff, who manages to believe in me even when I don’t believe in myself, and for all the young girls trapped in polygamy, the Lost Boys who are abandoned, and those brave enough to try to save them.

"From the first page, Sister Wife defies you to put it down. A spine-chilling study of evil that will keep the reader gripped until the final page."

—Katherine Sutcliffe, multi-award winning bestselling author of Bad Moon Rising, Darkling I Listen, Fever, and Notorious

*****

Prologue

She was just seven—just barely seven—not old enough to be in this much trouble.

She thought of her birthday cake with seven candles and Mommy singing to her. The candles on the cake had been so bright, and Mommy had turned the lights out so they lit up the whole room. She stopped crying when she remembered the cake, even though she was so scared. More scared even than she’d been when Gordy Bright threatened to pop her eyeballs out at school last year. Mommy had explained eyeballs didn’t pop out that easily, but she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her eyes rolling around on the playground like marbles. She’d been really scared that time, but this was much, much worse.

She lay in the backseat of the car, blindfolded and damp from wetting herself. The redlady hadn’t said anything in a long time, at least not to her, and she felt invisible. She could smell smoke and hear the harsh coughing. The car radio played, and once in a while the redlady tried to sing along to the songs, but she didn’t seem to know any of the words. I know lots more words than her, she thought, bouncing on the seat when the car hit bumps in the road.

She tried not to get wound up again. That was what Mommy called it when she couldn’t stop screaming and crying.

They’d been in the car a long, long time. It felt like days, but she knew it hadn’t been more than one. She’d noticed the changes between light and dark, even through the blindfold. It must be morning, because it was getting light again. She had to poop. Bad. Really, really bad. She was too frightened to ask the redlady, who had ignored her since they left the school. She’d peed her pants like a little baby as soon as the redlady had thrown her into the back of the yellow car, tying her hands together, putting the blindfold over her face and shoving a cloth in her mouth. Now she was beginning to get a little bit dry but was still cold and uncomfortable.

She’d worn her favorite blue skirt to school. She’d fought with Mommy because it was dirty, but she plucked it out of the clothes hamper and yelled until she got her way. She loved the skirt because when she twirled it fanned out around her. She wished now she hadn’t fought with her mommy, and she wished she’d just put on the pants Mommy had wanted her to wear. Instead, she was wet and cold and something had happened to Mommy.

Her mouth still tasted like the dirty cloth the redlady had shoved in her mouth. She’d pulled it out almost as soon as the engine of the car roared to life. Her hands were tied at the wrists in front and she could still use them. She’d pushed the blindfold up just a little bit so she could peek out, but she didn’t dare sit up and couldn’t see anything but the back of the front seat and the redlady’s head. Blond hair peeked out from under the hat the mean woman wore.

She wasn’t sure what the redlady wanted. She didn’t even know who the redlady was. Teacher had called her up to the front of the class and told her to go to the office. The redlady had been standing there when she walked in. She’d worried she was in big, big trouble. Then the redlady knelt down and whispered to her sadly, telling her something had happened to her mommy.

She got a bad taste in her mouth when she remembered what the redlady said. Since Daddy left, Mommy was all she had. Mommy was her best friend. She had started sobbing, right there in the office with all the old office ladies watching her. She couldn’t even tell the principal she didn’t know the redlady. She cried so hard, she tried to talk but only gasped.

The redlady picked her up and carried her out, bawling, and she’d known the other kids stood watching. She hadn’t been in this school long and she had very few friends. They all acted like she was weird because she was smart. Mommy kept telling her it would get better, but it didn’t; and she wondered if maybe the other kids had killed Mommy and sent the redlady to get her, like in those scary movies she wasn’t supposed to watch.

The redlady was very scary. She looked pretty until you got really close, then you could see she was wearing too much makeup and her dress was way too bright and tight. As soon as they got to the car, the redlady stopped smiling. The redlady looked mad, too. Really mad. That was when she’d been blindfolded and gagged.

Now, she was tired and sleepy, lulled by the roar of the engine and the gentle rocking of the car as it traveled. She comforted herself by sucking her thumb, both hands near her face, since they were still tied together. Her left thumb slowly stroked her cheek, back and forth, while she sucked on the right one. She usually rubbed the fur on Mr. Peepers’ belly—it felt so nice—but of course, he wasn’t here. Sucking her thumb was a very bad thing, she knew, but a habit she had been unable to break. She simply learned to hide it from Mommy, and especially Daddy, when he was still around.

She was really hungry. Her stomach was empty, and she thought again about her birthday cake with its seven candles. It had been chocolate with strawberry filling, her favorite. Her tummy growled, and she almost giggled at the noise it made.

When the car suddenly stopped she lurched awake from her half- sleep and felt the scary feeling that began in her tummy and moved up to her throat. She heard the rustle of the redlady as she opened the front car door. It slammed shut, and she began to sob again, feeling herself getting wound up.

She had never been so frightened, never.

The door closest to her opened, and she felt the chill as it wafted down her bare legs. She shuddered violently, sobbing and wailing as the redlady picked her up.

"Shut up, kid, or I’ll slit your throat and feed you to the bears." The redlady’s deep voice meant business, and she began kicking and screaming, her panic overwhelming her. She didn’t know where they were, could see nothing, but there could be bears around. There could be. Maybe the redlady had taken her to Yellowstone where all the bears were. She knew about Yellowstone, had seen pictures in school.

She heard a deep breath; then she felt an incredible pain in her head...

Chapter One

It was a warm, wet-washcloth day in Southern California, odd weather for early October. Kelsey Waite’s feet ached and her eyes were gritty and sore. She wanted nothing more than to go home, prop her feet up on the couch and forget her miserable life. The humidity made it even worse; and she only hoped Tia’s day at school had been good, and they would have a nice quiet evening. It had been a tough day at the newspaper.

As she drove along in the slow flow of rush hour traffic, wishing the small Toyota had air conditioning, she thought about her life. Kelsey was grateful for Mrs. Rampton, the elderly woman who lived across the street. She was a lifesaver, always happy to pick up Tia from school when Kelsey was late, which happened more and more often.

She found herself drifting off, as she often did in the boredom of commuting, and she thought about Aunt Regina, who had left her the beachside cottage in her will. It was only fitting, Kelsey thought, grinning wryly, since she’d always run there to her aunt at the slightest hint of trouble.

She jerked back into the present when a blue pickup truck swerved into her lane, narrowly missing her fender. She hit her horn and cursed him, using every foul word she knew. He reciprocated by flipping her off, a gesture she gladly returned.

After he moved several cars ahead of her, she grimaced then grinned. She was absolutely crazy on the road. It was the one place she totally let loose her demons and exacted revenge on the world. Someday, this would get her in trouble. Especially in California.

Ironically, it was here Kelsey finally felt a little safe. Her mind drifted back to the time she left Utah.

No, she hadn’t just left.

I escaped. Mom didn’t help, either.

She vowed to do a better job with her own daughter, the little spitfire she’d named Tia. She smiled as she contemplated the little girl who came into this world with her fist raised and clenched, demanding attention. Nothing had changed much since the day she was born. Aunt Reg had liked to say Tia’s first words were I want. It was very close to the truth, as Tia was extremely demanding, even as a baby.

Damn, you idiot, Kelsey swore at another driver. The traffic was always bad at this time of day, and she had no patience. Tia was just like her. She honked her horn angrily with the rest of the masses. Californians loved their horns.

She wiped perspiration from the back of her neck, lifting her hair up to relieve the heat. She loved the moderate temperatures of California. Today was more uncomfortable than most, but she couldn’t complain. Okay, she was complaining, but only a little.

Kelsey swore again as she looked over to see her daydreaming had nearly made her miss her exit. She swerved in front of a car and barely made the turn, wheels squealing.

Girlfriend, you need to pull your head out of the past and pay attention! she said out loud. Tia always laughed when Kelsey talked to herself.

It was a habit she’d picked up as an only child.

She turned onto her street and felt her shoulders drop as she relaxed, the familiarity of her beloved neighborhood lulling her into a state of peace. Santa Barbara had given her a new life, and although she struggled right now with her job and childcare responsibilities, not to mention loneliness, she knew how lucky she was. She could never have afforded to live in this house by the ocean she loved. The house she had rarely visited as a child, since her parents did not approve of Aunt Regina or her lifestyle.

Kelsey pulled into her small driveway and left the motor running while she got out to unlock the gate behind which she parked her car. She looked across the street at Mrs. Rampton’s house. It was dark.

The gloom of the setting sun spread across the entire sky, and Mrs. R liked light. Kelsey supposed her daughter and her neighbor were watching TV in the dark. Tia loved watching Wheel of Fortune with her elderly friend, and she calmed her slight qualms about Tia by envisioning them snuggled close on Mrs. R’s couch, eating popcorn and watching Wheel.

Moving the car behind the gate and turning it off, Kelsey grabbed her briefcase from the front seat. She walked over and pulled the gate shut, heading to the side door in the twilight gloom. Over the porch, a motion-sensitive security light turned on when she neared it. She unlocked the door and let herself in, flipping on the hall light to dispel the darkness and any nightmares that lurked there. It was habit—she refused to let herself think about her fears anymore.

The mail was on the hall table—Mrs. R had obviously been here, checking on Cat, an arrogant two-year-old Persian. They called him a pet. He considered them servants. Kelsey didn’t see any sign of Tia; her backpack and school papers hadn’t been dropped by the door as usual. The child was a small hurricane, running through the house and displacing items at a speed that belied her size. She had to constantly remind her to pick up her shoes, pick up her jacket, put her backpack away.

Tia hadn’t adjusted well to her new school since they’d moved here from Ventura after Reg died. Kelsey still wasn’t exactly sure why the little girl struggled, except perhaps for the fact Santa Barbara was an upscale community. Tia’s clothes were nice but not costly, and Kelsey remembered well how mean kids could be—she’d been the butt of many jokes as a child because of the plain, home-sewn clothing she had worn.

She ran numbers through her head, wondering if she could afford to buy a few nice things for Tia this month.

Looking into the living room, Kelsey saw the picture of Tia at age five. The little girl was a beauty. She had elfin features, curly brown hair, perfect dimples and a smile that lit up her entire face. Two years later, she was still beautiful; even when she lost her two front teeth, she didn’t look gawky or awkward, like so many young children.

Kelsey absently picked up the phone, kicked off her shoes and automatically dialed Mrs. R’s number. She set her briefcase on the floor and frowned when there was no answer. She sighed, stuffed her complaining feet back into the pumps and headed out the front door to investigate. She left the door unlocked and ajar and walked out onto the street in the deepening night. She looked both ways, something she’d drilled into Tia’s head, crossing to the cute Spanish- style bungalow after determining it was safe.

She knocked at the front door. No answer. The muscles in her face tightened. Peering through the front window, she saw no TV light. No sign of movement. The house appeared deserted. Sometimes Mrs. R would take Tia to McDonald’s for dinner. Funny, though. She usually left a note.

Kelsey walked around the side of the house and stepped into something sticky. She pulled her foot back, uttering a curse.

She looked down at the dark, viscous substance. Whatever it was had trickled down from beyond the jasmine tree about two feet away to form a puddle. The smell of the blossoms was overpowering, growing stronger the closer she came to the tree.

Another smell assaulted her, a sickly-sweet odor mixed with an acidic pungent aroma she immediately identified as blood, urine and feces. Together, they formed a combination that caused her stomach to churn and roil. As though being pulled by a magnet, her feet moved slowly forward, drawn by a shape at the base of the tree. It almost looked human, but didn’t move. The scent of the night- blooming plant became nauseating, and she could feel her stomach start to churn.

Mrs. R? Mrs. Rampton? Is that you?

The shape did not move, and she reluctantly headed toward it. The hair stood up on the back of her neck. Her flesh crawled. Reaching the tree, she slowed. This shape was human.

Kelsey fought the impulse to scream and turned the shape over. She could no longer keep control as Mrs. R’s face rolled toward her.

One half was instantly recognizable. The other half was a bloody mess that resembled nothing human.

Kelsey reeled back and ran toward her house, forgetting to look either way before darting into the street. She careened headlong into the house at breakneck speed, yelling for Tia at the top of her lungs. She threw open her door, flipped on the light, saw nothing.

The panic rose in her throat as she raced into every room, turning lights on and hollering Tia’s name. Dread filled her. The image of Mrs. R’s mangled face raced unwanted through her mind. She’d failed to look any further than the tree. Was there another, smaller, more fragile shape lying near the dead body? She hadn’t even checked the doors of the other woman’s house.

She didn’t realize she’d been screaming until the echo of her voice came back at her from the high ceilings of the bungalow. Her throat was now raspy and sore, but she couldn’t stop her hysteria.

Kelsey raced headlong out the front door and back into the street, again not looking. She heard the sirens and wondered what had happened. She didn’t realize how close they were and didn’t equate the noise with her situation. She felt the car before seeing it, and the impact tossed her through the air.

The officer jumped out, yelling, Shit, I hit her!

Kelsey’s world faded to black.

Chapter Two

"Kelsey!" he called. The sharp edge to his voice, combined with the commanding tone, set off fireworks in her stomach and turned her knees to gelatin. She hid behind the hay, watching the dust motes rise in the air. They were illuminated by shafts of light coming through the gaps in the slats of the old barn. She knew she would be in a lot of trouble for hiding.

Somehow, that didn’t seem worse than him finding her.

"Oh, let her hide, said an unfamiliar voice. She’ll come out eventually. She’ll get hungry. They always do. They learn to play hard- to-get early, don’t they? The voice chuckled. David, be prepared, this is what you have to look forward to!"

"Joshua, I’m so sorry, said her father. She’s a little bit headstrong. Always has been. Kelsey! Kelsey, come out here right now. I know you’re in here. One of the kids saw you come in here. You know what happens when you disobey me!"

She knew. She knew, but her body was frozen and she stared down at her pale, thin arms. The hair on them stood straight up, even on such a hot summer day. Even hotter in this barn, especially where she was, hiding behind the haystack. Her legs wouldn’t move, either.

"Kelsey, said the other voice, a calm voice. Come on out. There’s someone we want you to meet. Heck, I want to meet you. I’m Joshua. Come on out."

She jumped suddenly, her body forced into action because someone stood next to her. She rose quickly to her feet and met the gaze of a boy not much older than her, maybe sixteen or seventeen. He had blue eyes, a long nose, regal features and white-blond hair. She gaped up at him, mesmerized by his looks.

She didn’t realize she was shivering until he moved closer and touched her throat, just above her breastbone in the V located there. She jumped back at his touch and her eyes narrowed. She didn’t like to be touched. He thought it was funny, she could tell. He reached out to touch her again, and she backed up against the hay. She was trapped. His finger moved toward her, slowly, not touching, moving downward toward her breasts, which were nothing but buds.

He smiled then, a wicked smile, and she felt a catch of fear in her throat. He was one of them. A man, like her father. She wanted to disappear, and she closed her eyes. She wanted to yell for help, but her voice wouldn’t work. And who would help her? Her father? Ha!

"David! said the calm voice, closer now. Why didn’t you tell us you found her? Kelsey, it’s okay. Open your eyes, Kelsey. Let’s talk."

****

Open your eyes, Mrs. Waite. Can you open your eyes?

Kelsey’s eyes popped open like the good little girl she was. She was confused. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. She focused on the unfamiliar face standing above her, sharp disconnected images jolting through her brain. Her body was achy and sore. She wanted to move, but it required tremendous effort. Her arms each felt like it weighed a ton, and it was a major effort just to move her head. She squinted her eyes, trying harder to focus on the owner of the voice.

The blue eyes in the face were startling and, in her groggy state, almost seemed angelic. The gray hair added to the look, although Kelsey saw a sheen of black through it. It was a man angel, apparently, and a gorgeous one. God had been good to her, calling her home to this vision after all her sins. Her father had been wrong.

Mrs. Waite, are you awake? Can you hear me?

Is this heaven? she mouthed, her voice hoarse with lack of moisture. Are you my angel?

No, maybe not an angel. Gray hair. Perhaps a saint.

Oh, no, said the man, a hint of laughter in his voice. Mrs. Waite, my name is Detective Quinn Anderson. I’m investigating the murder of your neighbor, Ella Rampton, and the disappearance of your daughter, Tia. I have some questions I need answered.

It all came tumbling back to her in an avalanche of memories. Tia. Tia was missing, Mrs. Rampton dead.

No, no, not Tia. Where’s my Tia? Kelsey’s eyes filled with tears, and she felt weak and useless.

We were hoping maybe you could tell us, said Detective Anderson.

How long?

’Scuse me? How long what?

How long have I been unconscious? How long has Tia been missing? Kelsey rasped out, feeling the strain on her vocal cords.

Well, you’ve been pretty out of it for about three days. The last time anyone saw your daughter was when your sister picked her up at school—

Kelsey sat up sharply, wincing at the pain in her head and her right shoulder. I don’t have a sister, she said urgently. What sister?

Tears fell down her face again as the fear coursed through her. Tia was missing, gone somewhere with an unknown woman, and Mrs. Rampton was dead. She felt herself nearing hysteria.

Where is my daughter? I have to find my daughter!

She purposefully moved one leg off the bed, testing the steadiness of the ground beneath her. The blue-eyed man looked startled and nervous, and he hit the call button by the side of the bed.

The floor moved in big, violent jerks, reminiscent of a maze in a fun house at the local amusement park. Kelsey didn’t dare put her other leg to the ground for fear the entire building would collapse. She pulled her dangling limb slowly back onto the bed and sobbed, her face in her hands.

After several minutes, the nurse came bustling in and hustled the angel/detective out. Another nurse followed, and she took Kelsey firmly by the shoulders and pushed her back onto the bed. They put something in her IV, because she quickly became groggy and calmer. She tried to fight the need to sleep, because she needed to find Tia; but her body would not cooperate. Her eyes clicked shut like a porcelain doll’s. Her last thought was Sister? I don’t have a sister.

Chapter Three

A soft voice said, "Open your

Reviews for Sister Wife

[auntieknickers · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

SISTER WIFE is a worthy successor to Ms. Collins' first mystery on the
fringes of Mormonism, WIVES AND SISTERS. I actually did read it in one
sitting -- on Kindle for PC in front of my desktop computer. The story
is that compelling.

It begins with a kidnapping, continues with the discovery of a murder,
and then, as protagonist Kelsey Waite begins the agonizing search for
her missing daughter, we learn bit by bit of her shocking past and her
fear that it has caught up with her. Kelsey is, in some ways, an
average young single mother; she doesn't practice martial arts or have
exceptional strength. What she does have are a strong, willful
personality and a tigress's instinct to protect her daughter. She also
has a firm ally in handsome police officer Quinn Anderson.

Kelsey's search will take her back to a place she never wanted to see
again -- to the shadow world of polygamous cults, offshoots of the
Mormon religion, repudiated by the LDS church. (We have learned in
recent years that Collins' books, which may have seemed far-fetched
when first published, are all too sadly true-to-life.) Her journey
will also take her somewhere she had wished to be but never expected
to reach, as her relationship with Quinn Anderson deepens.

Ms. Collins knows her setting and characters intimately and even
relatively minor characters come to life on the page. It's hard to
read about bad things happening to children, but Ms. Collins always
keeps the emphasis on the inner strength of the victims rather than
dwelling on the twisted thoughts of the perpetrator as too many
authors seem to do. For thrills, romance, and social relevance, I
would strongly recommend this book.