Free American Heroes Series - 01 - Resurrection by Kathryn Le Veque

her.  She was a boil on the butt of God-fearing Christians, but for some reason, the woman made millions and people flocked to her.  It was this woman who was the very first in line when the museum doors opened on Thursday morning.
    Dressed in a navy blue sheath dress with matching pumps and looking particularly sharp, Cydney was up in the gallery when security personnel finally opened the doors.  There was quite a crowd outside and thanks to Stu’s logistical planning, the museum was prepared.  People gave their tickets and were immediately funneled into a chute to await their turn to enter the gallery and inspect the collection.  Cydney caught sight of Coral Chastity Aames at the head of the queue and, after a moment’s surprise, shook her head in resignation. So it was going to be that kind of a day.
    Cydney had made the decision a few weeks prior to stick with the maximum capacity of the gallery, which was limited two hundred thirty people at any given time. They weren’t going to try and cram any more in because they didn’t want the Fire Marshall to shut them down, so security personnel kept close tabs on how many entered the gallery and how may left.  
    The Resurrection exhibit was ready for prime time. Spotlights blasted their brilliance upon the case containing The Lucius Robe while strategic lighting and paint color lent ambiance and mystery to the rest of the relics. Cydney was standing with Stu just inside the gallery entrance when Coral Chastity Aames was finally admitted entrance into the gallery.  The woman in the bright pink and white jumpsuit went straight to the case containing The Lucius Robe.
    “Oh,” she held up her quivering hands, wanting to touch the plexiglass but not wanting to get in trouble for it. “Lord Jesus, we praise You for Your sacrifice at the cross. Glory to God! Sweet Jesus!”
    Cydney and Stu couldn’t help but stare at the woman as she began to pray loudly in front of the case.  People around her looked rather uncertain but she didn’t seem to create any real disturbance.  It was just odd and frankly comical the way the woman carried on.  It was quite a show.
    “Do you want me to run her off?” Stu leaned close to Cydney’s ear; he was dressed in a crisp black suit and red tie and looked like an undertaker. “We can’t have that kind of disruption in the gallery. Milt will have a fit.”
    Cydney shrugged lamely. “She’s really not doing anything,” she whispered at him. “Maybe she’ll just pray for a couple of minutes and leave.”
    Stu snorted. “Have you seen her?” he griped. “She weeps and carries on for hours. I went to a church retreat once where she we studied her for an entire day; man, the things that woman is in to. You’d be surprised. She’s one giant bundle of menopausal hysteria.”
    Cydney giggled and looked at him. “What would you know about menopausal hysteria?”
    He pursed his lips irritably at her. “Lots. My mother has it all the time.”
    As Cydney continued to snicker, Coral Chastity Aames continued to pray.  Anne-Michelle entered the gallery, her brown eyes wide at the performance going on in front of The Lucius Robe as she made her way over to Cydney and Stu. By the time she reached them, she was pointing a slender finger at the spectacle.
    “I’ve seen that lady on television,” she hissed. “What’s her name?”
    “Coral Chastity Aames,” Cydney said. “She has that big yellow-painted church in Costa Mesa.”
    “Oh, right,” Anne-Michelle crossed her arms, still watching the display.  After a moment, she wriggled her eyebrows at all of the crying going on and looked at Cydney. “Other than the religious hysteria, is everything okay so far? Milt wants a report.”
    Cydney shook her head. “The gallery has only been open ten minutes. Tell Milt that the entire terrorist world has not come crashing down upon us. At least, not yet.”
    Anne-Michelle grinned. “Where are all the FBI guys?”
    Cydney began