White Heat. Brenda Novak
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felt as if she couldn’t breathe in the sweltering heat. L.A. could get warm in the summertime, but the breeze coming in off the ocean generally made for comfortable nights.
The generator whined out back. Supposedly, it was large enough to run the swamp cooler in the hallway, but she’d needed to put some space between her and Nate so she lay in bed with her door shut, praying for the slightest breeze to carry through her open window.
Those prayers went unanswered. The desert stretched beyond the trailer on all sides, quiet and still. But with her drapes open, she could see the night sky. The stars had never looked quite so close or so bright. She supposed this place could get in a person’s blood. Although it was a far cry from her glass-and-chrome house on the ocean—she doubted she’d ever be able to give up her proximity to the sea—the desert had a stark beauty she found appealing, if lonesome.
What would tomorrow bring? She and Nate had to start talking to people in town, make their presence known and build their cover. Maybe they’d take some pictures around Paradise. They couldn’t wait for Ethan and the Covenanters to notice them. They had to draw the attention of someone in the group, get an invitation to one of the Introduction Meetings. She hated the thought that Ethan might be stoning people while they settled in, completely unaware, in this trailer.
Would gaining admission to the group be difficult?
Rachel couldn’t even guess. Like every job she did, this one was filled with unknowns….
The creak of Nate’s footsteps in the hall told her he was up. She tensed, waiting to see what he’d do, but she wasn’t worried that he’d try to come into her room. He hadn’t really wanted to be with her the first time they’d made love. Why would he feel any different now?
She heard the front door open. He was going out.
Leaving her bed, she went to the window to see what he was doing. He appeared to be heading to his truck, but it didn’t look as if he planned on going far. He wasn’t wearing anything except a pair of basketball shorts.
The cab light went on when he opened the passenger door. He got something out of the jockey box, then started back.
Because she didn’t want him to catch her watching him, she climbed back into bed. Forget Nate! Obsessing about him was what had gotten her into trouble before.
She cringed as she remembered all the signals she must’ve misinterpreted to wind up in his bed, naked. The way he’d sometimes looked at her at the office, she’d assumed…well, she’d assumed too much, obviously. Without the experience most women had in dealing with men, she hadn’t known how to take their relationship from colleagues to lovers and had gone too far, too fast.
Getting into his bed had been her first mistake. Not getting out of it when he reacted with such surprise had been her second. And not leaving his house right after they’d made love had been her third. But by then she’d known deep inside that she’d have only the one night with him. So she’d stayed, secretly treasuring every moment.
The crushing disappointment that’d come in the morning—with his polite explanation of why he’d lost control and how sorry he was for not sending her home—still made her cringe.
God, what a fool! Why couldn’t she have salvaged her pride?
Because she’d been lonely too long. And because she’d let him mean too much to her. When she realized that feeling wasn’t mutual, she simply didn’t have the skills to shrug it off or act indifferent.
He’d taught her a good lesson, though. One most people learned in their teens, but better late than never…
At least she’d never make that mistake again. She’d demand more from any lover she took in the future.
But there were times she was tempted to lower her standards. Times like now, when she lay in bed, remembering Nate’s hands on her body and craving them there again.
6
Every Wednesday, Ethan called his entire church together for morning prayer. Then Bart and his guards took over for two hours with armory drills. In the summer, they met in the courtyard outside the Enlightenment Hall as the sun came up, like they were doing now. It wasn’t Wednesday, but the sudden disappearance of Courtney Sinclair had to be addressed. At Bartholomew’s urging, Ethan had called for a special prayer so he could handle the issue via public announcement. This would enable everyone to hear what he had to say on the matter. But he hated that this was the second time he’d been forced to convene a meeting for the sake of damage control within the past two months.
He could feel Bartholomew behind him, keeping silent watch, as always. Bart took his job as head of security very seriously. The way he’d supported Ethan after that fight with Courtney, how he’d hidden the body and then buried it, proved he could be trusted with anything.
Ethan had been lucky the day Bart had attended one of his first Introduction Meetings. Claiming she couldn’t live with his sexual dysfunction—which probably had more to do with his orientation than his impotence—Bart’s wife had recently left him. Days later, he’d closed his failing chiropractic practice. He’d been in the middle of a full-blown midlife crisis, had been searching for an anchor of some sort, a devotion that felt worthwhile, and Ethan had been there to offer him that. Bart was so grateful to have a purpose, to be valued that he’d become one of Ethan’s most loyal followers.
But he hadn’t tracked down Martha, and that grated on Ethan. He couldn’t abide the thought of a Covenant member leaving the group and then spouting off about him to the outside world. Martha was a Judas and would suffer God’s wrath, just as traitors like her deserved.
The other Spiritual Guides stood behind him, too, but Ethan wasn’t as completely sure of them as he was of Bartholomew. Some had been with him since college, but whether they stayed because of loyalty or self-interest, he couldn’t say. He protected himself by telling them only what he wanted them to hear.
Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep this particular situation between him and Bart, as he would’ve preferred. Harry Titherington knew he’d been with Courtney the night she went missing. Ethan had spent an hour trying to convince the entire group that she’d been alive when she left his apartment, but he wasn’t positive they all believed him. Especially Harry…
Head bowed, Ethan waited for the prayer to come to a close. It was beneath him to have to reason away doubts and accusations, but he had to put the rumors concerning Courtney to rest. He also had to prep his people so they’d know how to react if Courtney’s parents reappeared at the gate or, God forbid, sent the police. He wasn’t sure Paradise could tolerate another media onslaught, not on the heels of the botched stoning.
The sudden silence notified him that the prayer, said by one of the Spiritual Guides, was finally over.
“Thank you for your eloquence, Brother Whitehead,” he called out.
A resounding “Praise be to God” rang loud and clear in response.
“Yes, praise be to God,” Ethan said. “And now, before you go about your day, I have an issue of some importance to discuss.”
A ripple of expectation filtered through the crowd. The last time he’d said those words, he’d had to tell them that Sister Martha had escaped God’s justice and could not be found. As a defensive measure, he’d also had to exhort them to speak to no one about the incident, to pray that she could be caught before her evil tongue destroyed the work of God and to remember their covenants to put God’s work and glory above all else.
“Many of you celebrated with me when Sister Courtney Sinclair was saved from the cesspool of the outside world two short weeks ago. As you remember, because she was underage, we voted on whether or not we would take the risk associated with accepting her into our family.” In a private meeting before that, several of the Guides had voted against it, but he’d wanted her in his life and forced the issue. Now he was paying the price.
“We took a great deal into consideration,” he went on. “But,