Knot of This World. Mary Marks
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“Daisy. She’s five months old and bright as a button. I practically have to pay my daughter to let me babysit.”
Birdie sighed. “I hope to see her before we move to Ojai. Once we arrive in the community, we’ll be pretty much incommunicado.”
An alarm started clanging in my head. “What do you mean? You can’t have visitors? You can’t use a phone?”
“Well, there will be an orientation period in which we’ll learn the secrets of the Mystical Feather. Then we’ll receive instruction on the techniques of meditation in order to contact our own personal spirit guides.” She smiled. “During that time, we must have no distractions from the outside world. I hope you understand.”
“When do you plan to go there?” Jazz scooped up Zsa Zsa and held her protectively against his body.
“As soon as our properties are sold. Then there will be a formal welcoming ceremony in which we turn over to the community all our earthly goods and they will embrace us as full members. We already have a buyer interested in the ranch, and our real estate agent thinks she can sell the other places within the month.”
Giselle frowned. “But, Birdie, aren’t you in your seventies? At this time of life, why is it important to meet your spirit guide? Let’s face it. Isn’t his work pretty much over?”
For once, I was grateful for my sister’s ability to shoot right at the heart of the matter. Everyone else must’ve felt the same way because all motion had stopped and all ears were focused on what our friend might say.
Birdie laughed. “Ask me that question again when you’ve reached my age, my dear. Where there’s life, there’s always a thirst for knowledge and enlightenment. Take my arthritis, for instance. It’s merely a symptom of a stressful existence. Once I’ve become an Adept, my guide will help me completely reverse the disease.”
For the rest of the day, I scarcely heard the conversations. My stomach churned and my heart sat heavy in my chest. Hadn’t Birdie just described typical cult tactics? Make outlandish promises, isolate the individuals from their normal support network until they’ve been thoroughly indoctrinated, and keep them dependent by seizing all their resources. How could I prevent Birdie and Denver from making such a terrible mistake?
By three that afternoon, everyone had gone home but Giselle. “Martha, I hate to say this, but I think your friend Birdie has gone off the deep end. I mean, really. She’s about to give all her money away?”
The thought of being without any independent resources must’ve been impossible for my half-sister to comprehend. She’d inherited her family’s business, a very prosperous oil company. Giselle owned her own private jet and five houses and shopped at stores I’d never been inside of. And despite the fact she could really piss off people with her lack of tact, she had a keen mind.
“Another thing bothers me, Sissy. Where is Birdie’s husband in all this? Doesn’t he have a say? Is it possible that both of them can be that stupid?”
I sighed. “I know what you mean, G. That ranch in Oregon they’ve put up for sale has been in Denver’s family for generations. Why would he just give it up? I’d really like to find out what’s going on in his head.”
“I hope it’s not the same mumbo jumbo that’s going on in your friend’s head. If it is, I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do. They’re both adults with no family to hold them back from the precipice.”
Giselle was right. I had no legal recourse. But maybe I could find another way. And I knew just where to start. I reached for my phone and sent a text message.
Emergency. Contact me ASAP.
CHAPTER 2
I spent an hour on the computer trying to find information on the Mystical Feather Society. Wikipedia confirmed the facts Birdie had given me about the beginnings of the society, but I could find no further details about the present-day commune.
At five on Tuesday evening, I got a phone call in response to my emergency text. “Hey, Martha. Long time no see.” Paulina Polinskaya’s hard, East Coast accent drilled through the phone line. “Sorry I didn’t get back to you sooner. I was with a very difficult client who wanted to speak to her deceased husband. As soon as I contacted his spirit, she started shouting at him for dying and leaving her with a dozen unpaid bills. He said if she hadn’t spent like a drunken sailor while he was alive, maybe she wouldn’t be facing all that debt. I had to play peacemaker for over an hour until he broke the connection. What’s the emergency?”
“Do you remember a friend of mine, Birdie Watson? In her late seventies, long white braid?”
“Yeah. It’s been a couple a years, but I think I remember.”
“I want to stop her from making a dangerous mistake.”
“Do you want to bring her in for a reading?” Paulina was a psychic I met while trying to solve the murder of my friend Harriet Gordon. I encountered Paulina again when my friend Jazz was a suspect in another murder. Both times she was helpful. Sort of.
“I need information on a group called the Mystical Feather Society.” I told her about Birdie and Denver’s plan to sell everything they owned and turn the money over to the trust and live on the society’s commune in Ojai.
“Yeah. I heard about them. Madam St. Germain’s books are still popular today. She was a gifted medium. If this is a cult, like you said, it makes sense they’re in Ojai.”
A chill traveled down my spine. Paulina was confirming what my gut had told me earlier. Ojai, California, was located about eighty miles north of Los Angeles, nestled in a valley just south of the Los Padres National Forest. It was well known as a very liberal artsy community and a magnet for all kinds of philosophical disciplines. The headquarters of the Theosophical Society sat on several tranquil acres to the north of downtown Ojai on Route 33, while St. Thomas Catholic College stood just south of Ojai on Route 150. Every religious retreat imaginable could be found in between.
“I’ve got to find a way to keep my friends from going through with their plans.”
“I’ll find out more, if you want. I’m going to a meeting of COW tonight. Someone there will know.”
“COW?”
“Contacting Other Worlds. LA chapter. It’s a professional organization with members from all over the globe.”
“There’s an association for mediums?”
“Are you surprised? We have a president and board of directors. Mediums are thoroughly vetted before they’re allowed to join. Members are called Adepts.”
“Just out of curiosity, what do you call the president of COW?”
“The Supreme Bull.”
We ended the call as Crusher walked in the doorway.
He hung up his leather jacket, removed his shoulder holster and ATF badge, and put them on the table in the hallway. Then he walked over and gave me a kiss. “Hey, babe. How was your day?”
“Awful.” I told him about Birdie and Denver. “I’ve got to find a way to talk some sense into them before it’s too late. Do you think you can reach out to your FBI contacts for a little research on the Mystical Feather Society?”
“Mystical Feather? That’s a new one to me. Yeah, I’ll call my guy tomorrow and see what he can dig up. What’s for dinner?”
I’d been so busy trying to research the group, I’d forgotten about eating. I did a quick mental scan of the contents of the refrigerator. “You have a choice: tuna sandwiches and potato chips here or going out to a restaurant.”
He chuckled. Crusher was used to my laissez-faire attitude toward cooking. “Let’s go grab a steak.”
That night I dreamt Birdie and Denver had tossed their phones