The Rapture of Omega by Stacy Dittrich Read Free Book Online

remember that, they were called Heaven’s Gate.”
    “Right. Maybe they’re having a barbecue with E.T. as we speak.”
    “Doubtful. On another subject, how was Lola whenyou left this morning?” I worried about her waking up without me there.
    “She was good. Your mom was giving her a bath when I left. Listen, I’ve got to run. I’ve put in a couple of calls on the cult thing that I haven’t heard back on so if I find something new, I’ll call you.”
    For a few minutes after hanging up with Michael, I thought about everything he said and wrote a few notes. Then I pushed the Dixon file aside and pulled up Project Megiddo on the Internet. Michael had summed it up pretty well. As astonishing as it was to find there were nearly 1,000 cults operating in the United States, the FBI deemed very few of those to be credible threats. For the most part, it used to be widely believed that the cults would engage in violent acts with law enforcement (whom they declared Satan) to put forth the perception that they were religious martyrs. The new millennium was a declaration of war against the arm of Satan (the federal government) in the world’s final battle—the end of days. What the FBI essentially concluded was that these martyrs were not using the Bible to interpret the end of days, as most thought, but were mainly using it to justify their ideology.
    One interesting element of the report was directed at local law enforcement—specifically what to watch for in a religious cult. It listed eight common factors and included: the cult is led by a single male charismatic leader who dominates his members through physical, sexual, and emotional control, and extreme paranoia exists within the cult concerning interests from outsiders and law enforcement. These factors may produce three social-psychological components referred to as the “Lethal Triad.” According to the report, if a Lethal Triad is present, law enforcement had better be prepared.
    I sat back in my chair and stretched. It was getting late and I had done nothing all day but research a group of people who had probably done nothing wrong. Regardless, the information was useful, if not a little creepy.
    Just as I was walking out the door to go home for the day, my phone rang again. It was J. P. Sanders with Kelly Dixon’s autopsy report. I listened for a while as he read off the list of medical jargon associated with such reports. Then I interrupted.
    “Sum it up for me, J.P., my dinner’s getting cold.”
    “Sit on it and that hot ass of yours will heat it up just fine,” he snickered into the phone. “Perversion comes so easy when you’re old and it’s much more tolerated. Okay, kiddo, the sum is, she did have a crude abortion. It’s unknown how far along in the pregnancy she was since we didn’t find the fetus, but if I had to guess considering the shapes of the abrasions and the trauma in the uterus, I would say the instrument of choice was the age-old coat hanger method.”
    I cringed and subconsciously crossed my legs. I couldn’t even imagine how much Kelly Dixon had suffered.
    “Please tell me she wasn’t conscious when that happened.” I shut my eyes and prepared for his answer.
    “Unfortunately, I would say she was, but we may never know for sure. It wasn’t the abortion that killed her. It would have eventually, but her lungs were completely filled with water—which ultimately caused her death. Whoever did this is a sick motherfucker.”
    “I couldn’t agree more.” I breathed deeply and tried to shake out the horrible vision of Kelly Dixon I had. “Anything else, J.P.? Fibers? DNA?”
    “Nope, clean as a whistle. I’ll let you know if anything turns up. We’re gonna keep her for a few more days untilwe figure out what to do with her. No one claimed her body yet.”
    I hadn’t thought of that. “Listen, if no one claims her, call me. I’ll take care of her arrangements.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yes, please, I owe it to her