The Adam Enigma (28 page)

April 10, 2016
Grinnell, Iowa

R
amsey left the swimming meet and strode toward his car. The winds had picked up. A spring storm was on its way.
What a strange twist of fate
, he thought. Some of the old longing for Paige had cropped up, but he also felt a lot of distance from her, a chasm too far to cross. Thinking back on the encounter, suspicion dominated his thoughts and he wondered if her arrival was more than coincidence.

Ramsey had joined Orensen and Paige beside the swimming pool. It had been awkward seeing her and his misgivings must have been plain for her and Orensen to see. The Professor Emeritus had tried to allay Ramsey's suspicions. It was the first time Ramsey had ever seen the man do anything badly. Paige had left saying she'd meet up with them later. While watching the rest of the diving competition, Orensen had explained he was hoping to recruit Paige to join the faculty in the college's religious studies department.

“Her career slid downhill after her PhD and she ended up at UC Riverside because it was the only place where she and her former husband could both find academic positions. They divorced a couple of years ago and she's on sabbatical looking for something new. Wants to escape Southern California.”

“How do you know her?” Ramsey had asked.

“You don't remember? I met her when you brought her for your fifth year reunion here at Grinnell. We've stayed in touch over the
years.” He chuckled. “After all, we're both stuck in the moribund field of classical religious studies.”

“Is she still into that new age Christian thing?” Ramsey asked. “That was a large part of our break up.”

“She's matured a lot since then. We're getting together at my place this afternoon. You should join us and see for yourself.”

“Old times best forgotten,” Ramsey had said.

“New times to be remembered later,” Orensen had answered quietly.

Ramsey had agreed to meet them, but now he was no longer sure if he should.

What he really needed was time to think. He took a circuitous route to Orensen's home. The rain pelted down the whole way adding to his sense of unease. He mulled over how, ever since he had received the call from Myriam about the shrine, events had never unfolded the way he had hoped or thought they would. And now Paige.

He turned the corner onto Orensen's street and slowed down to a crawl, stopping his car two doors down from the professor's home. He saw Paige sitting in a large wicker chair beneath the wide front porch's overhang. The Craftsman-style home had belonged to Grinnell College's founder. Rainwater rushed down in sheets from the roof's cedar shingles, spilling over the overhang like a curtain separating Ramsey from Paige. She was no longer the cheery, bouncy flower child he had fallen in love with and who had left him that day in Eugene. She had put on weight and there were more than a few gray hairs. The one time their eyes had met during the swim meet he quickly looked away.

Now seeing at her at a distance, an uncanny warmth swept through him. As thunder shook his car, Ramsey felt a strange urge to tell her everything, seek her out-of-the-box way of looking at things as he once had done when as lovers they shared secrets and dreams. A strange notion swirled unbidden through his thoughts.
Maybe . . . maybe we can rekindle what was once there
. With a start, Ramsey realized he had never stopped longing for her. He had merely placed his work
between him and the past. But as quickly as that idea emerged, a darker realization elbowed it aside.

Once more he wondered if her unexpected arrival in Grinnell might be another manipulation by the people or forces that had put in motion his search for Adam Gwillt. He gathered himself together. Now was not the time to give in to paranoia.

Putting the car in gear, he turned into Orensen's driveway. The rain let up and a pale sun peeked through the clouds. With the warm sunlight, Ramsey resolved to be on his best behavior and charm the information he sought out his old mentor.

April 10, 2016
Grinnell, Iowa

O
rensen joined Paige and Ramsey on the front porch with a tray, three cups and a steaming pot of tea. “Thought we should have tea outside today,” the old man said with a twinkle as if everything was fine between them.

“Inside still cluttered with artifacts and religious relics gathering dust in shadowy corners?” said Ramsey, forcing a flash of irritation with his old mentor into a narrow compartment of his mind. He couldn't afford to alienate him with pettiness. Not when he needed answers. He had to uncover Orensen's involvement with the shrine, Adam Gwillt, the New Gnostics, and the South Africans. He cautioned himself to go lightly—the way he would with any interviewee.

Orensen laughed. “You haven't been here since your return from New Mexico. I'm in the process of donating my entire collection to Falconer Gallery.” Ramsey arched his eyebrows. “There are changes afoot in my future and I don't need them anymore. Though,” the old professor smiled wanly, “the house is lonely without them.”

The three sat around a glass table facing the street. The maple trees were leafing out and the grass, brown and dormant over the winter, glinted dark green under the rain. The road was as quiet as church. Even the neighbors seemed to be aware this meeting was more than three old friends getting together.

“I'm sorry, Jon. I should have called, but I wasn't sure you'd want to see me after, well, after Oregon.” Paige was the only one who called
him Jon. “Professor Orensen filled me in on New Mexico, sounds like something you'd want to do.”

Orensen chuckled. “Call me Roger. We're all friends here.”

“I'm here, Roger, and it's time we talk,” Ramsey said, taking great care to keep his tone upbeat.

“You have questions. I may have some answers.”

Ramsey glanced at Paige. She leaned back as if taking herself out of the conversation. It made him think she wasn't there as a distraction but for something else. Ramsey reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his phone. He tapped a link with his finger and showed it to Orensen. It was a webpage from the Rio Chama's newspaper telling the story of Adam's disappearance. It showed the shrine's sacred cottonwood tree. At the foot of the tree was Adam surrounded by three people in wheelchairs.

Pointing to the shrine's caretaker, Ramsey asked, “You know who that is?”

The professor gave an apologetic shrug of his shoulders. “I'm sorry, Jonathan; I've never seen him.”

Taken aback by Orensen's blatant deception, Ramsey's resolve to tread lightly vanished. “Roger, I don't think I've ever seen you lie so poorly,” he retorted, his voice now tight. “You know Adam Gwillt's the source behind the shrine's healing power.”

Paige put a hand on Ramsey's arm. Ramsey shook her off. He'd been pushed, prodded, knocked out, tied up, dragged off, and lied to. He didn't have to be nice to anyone. “You need to keep out of this, Paige. It's between me and the professor . . . my old mentor.” His eyes bored into Orensen's. “Tell me the truth, Roger. I deserve that much.”

Paige started to interrupt again, and Orensen held up a hand. “It's okay.” The kindly eyes of his mentor disappeared and Orensen said, “You deserve the truth. There were rumors that Adam Gwillt was responsible for the healing, but the Friends of the Shrine kept it under wraps. They didn't want a repeat of so many of these miracle spots, like the Lady of Lourdes, where worshippers come to idolize the woman and not the place.”

That's better. Now we're getting some straight talk for once
. Ramsey shunted the rest of his anger aside. It would only get in the way of
knowing when Orensen was telling the truth. “That may explain the shrine, but what about Haas and the South Africans?”

Orensen shook his head.

“The DeVere Mining Group . . . businessmen supposedly after diamonds in northern New Mexico but who were really looking for Adam Gwillt. They kidnapped me hoping to find him. It was all part of a plan to capture Adam. Their leader Haas mentioned you. Talked as though he knew you.”

“Whoever that was, he was lying,” Orensen said.

Ramsey took a breath. His suspicions about the DeVere chairman's duplicity were confirmed.
Unless Orensen's lying to me
. The seventy-five year old professor emeritus smiled and stared guilelessly. Ramsey knew he was telling the truth.

“Do you know where he is?” asked Orensen.

“Hoping you could help with that.”

The old man shrugged. “I know nothing about the South Africans or where Adam is. My involvement with the shrine and Adam has been peripheral. It's with a group of New Gnostics here in Grinnell. There's a meeting night. You'll get your questions answered there.”

Ramsey grit his teeth. He didn't like being put off, yet he could tell the professor wasn't going to say anything more.

Orensen added, “I urge you to come to our meeting. I'll introduce you and you can ask them what they know.”

Ramsey scowled. “You should've told me everything when we first talked.”

“Perhaps you're right,” Orensen apologized. His eyes narrowed and he said slyly, “On the other hand, ask yourself, even with Peru so far in the past, would you have been ready to accept everything?”

Ramsey jerked in surprise. The professor's words stung him in a way he couldn't deny. He stood abruptly to leave. Paige grasped his hand in hers. “I was hoping to attend the Gnostics assembly. But if you prefer I'll stay away.”

He shook off her hand. “Who says I'm going.”

April 10, 2016
Rio Chama, New Mexico

T
he Friends of the Rio de Milagro Shrine board meeting took place in the small amphitheater in the Visitor Center, where a movie depicting the story of the shrine was shown four times a day. Myriam and Hiram arrived on time. The day had turned gray and windy and the parking lot was nearly empty. Myriam recognized Carlotta's car and the silver Tundra pickup truck that belonged to the board's president, Raphael Núnez, owner of the largest real estate company in the county. Myriam looked at Hiram. “Looks like a small group tonight.”

Hiram nodded. “They must have gotten your message.”

Earlier in the week Myriam had called Núnez. As per the bylaws of the organization, she had demanded an emergency meeting about issues relating to the shrine's ownership.

Inside the Center Carlotta greeted them. She led them to two chairs in a small circle near a large window overlooking the hillside. Myriam could see the ancient cottonwood limned by the gray sky. Gusts of wind shook the tree's limbs.

As everyone took their seats, Father Michael rose and said, “We decided to keep this meeting to the core group.”

Núnez stood and motioned for him to sit down. He was a short man with bandy legs that showed he spent most of his time on his ranch riding horses. His sun and wind weathered face reflected the somber mood of the chilly afternoon. He cleared his throat and said,
“Let's get right to the point. I have some explaining to do. A few years ago the DeVere Mining group came to me with a proposal. They wanted me to buy up land around here. It's what they do when they have a potential mining interest in an area. I told them I would. It was a win-win for everybody.” Núnez paused, gripping the back of his chair with both hands. “What happened next was a little unusual. Early last year I urged the company to buy the land the shrine's on. Surprisingly they were more than happy to oblige, even created a trust to keep it running. We made Father Michael the titular head of the trust.” Needless to say I was pleased. The growing popularity of the shrine pushed property values up here. The only condition was keeping the ownership a secret. But then about two months ago the company's interest in the land changed. The DeVere group's chairman, Pieter Haas—”

Hiram's head snapped up at the mention of the South African's name. He kneaded the stubs of the little and ring fingers on his left hand. The old parachute injury hardly ever bothered him anymore, but this afternoon it ached. He glanced at Myriam and she was just as mortified. “Cut to the chase. What's Haas got to do with the shrine?” he asked, his gravely voice gruffer than usual.

“Myriam, you might remember I introduced you. He became very interested in the shrine. That's my part in this. Father, please continue.”

Father Michael stood. “I want to go back a year. It was becoming clear to a few of us that Adam was somehow the source of the shrine's healing power.”

Myriam blinked in surprise. Hiram squeezed her hand. She looked at Carlotta. “Is it true you knew?”

The large woman nodded. “Adam told me he suspected as much. At the time none of us, including Adam, could explain how it was possible.”

“That's right,” Father Michael said. “I presume the two of you know about the New Gnostics? The international organization of people impacted by the shrine?”

Myriam glanced at Hiram. “We heard about them recently and looked at their website.”

He continued, “It was also becoming obvious to a number of the members of the New Gnostics that the source of the shrine's power was Adam. In the meantime, Adam was slowly fading. This was because of his gradual absorption into a higher plane, as he put it.”

Carlotta broke in, “We needed a plan to protect Adam. If anyone else found out, some might see him as a danger and others might try to exploit him as an economic opportunity.”

“We tried to find a way to discover how Adam's powers work, but it seemed impossible without letting the secret out,” added Father Michael. “Then we learned About the Brothers of the Lord and their foul intentions regarding Adam.”

Hiram's face flushed. “I was part of that group.”

Carlotta nodded. “We were making plans to move Adam when he suddenly disappeared. You know the rest.”

Myriam stood up. “It's hard to believe you're not the ones who took him away.”

The board members exchanged glances. Finally Carlotta spoke up. “Do you know something we don't?”

Hiram demanded, “What about Haas? “

Father Michael replied, “He wanted to help us find Adam. He said he had been healed by the shrine several years ago and had joined a small New Gnostics assembly in South Africa. As the chairman of the DeVere Group and now the owner of the shrine he had lots of resources to help us in our search.”

Myriam cocked her head to one side. “That doesn't make sense,” she said. “I had the impression when Raphael introduced us in February he had never been to the shrine before.”

Father Michael's scarred cheeks reddened. He glared at Núnez, who was equally embarrassed. He recovered quickly. “It doesn't matter anymore since we all know it's now hopeless. Adam's gone for good.”

Tears formed in Carlotta's eyes. She turned away from the others.

Myriam reached out to her. “I'm sorry for your loss, Carlotta.”

“Thanks for your concern,” Carlotta replied. “But I'm not giving up hope for my brother.”

The meeting ended with no resolution on the shrine's finances or ownership. Beecher and Myriam went out to their car frustrated.

“Do you think we can trust Carlotta? About Adam, I mean?” asked Myriam.

“Can we trust any of them,” retorted Beecher. He slammed the key into the ignition and was going to start the car when a sudden thought made him smile. “You know, beloved, there's a way to end all the problems with the Friends of the Shrine.”

Myriam caught his lightheartedness. “What are you planning, love?”

“Not here.” He glanced back at Núnez and Father Michael standing in the entrance of the Visitor Center. “When we're home alone from any prying eyes.”