White Heat. Brenda Novak

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White Heat - Brenda  Novak


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the wall. “Hard to imagine a Christian preacher, at least in this day and age, ordering a person stoned.”

      “Chaske doesn’t think it’s so hard to imagine. He keeps saying that what Ethan shows the world and what he does behind those closed gates could be two different things.”

      “That’s true,” Nate agreed. But she didn’t seem to be convinced. The dream of fixing her granddaughter held too much allure.

      “But he’s never been up there,” she argued, “never seen it for himself. And the police looked into the matter. If Martha was telling the truth, they would’ve done something about it, wouldn’t they? The sheriff and his deputies came in here for lunch not long ago. I asked them about Martha’s accusations and they said they couldn’t prove a darn thing.”

      Nate knew police work from the other side. “Investigations rarely occur overnight. There’s the truth. And then there’s proof of the truth. Truth without proof won’t build a case.”

      “I guess.” She jingled the change in her pocket. “Chaske keeps talking about Jim Jones and David Koresh and what they got away with. He thinks Ethan’s no better.”

      Abby approached with a pitcher of water, distracting Thelma. She touched the child’s face with such love, Nate worried that Thelma’s desire to see Abby healed would eventually overtake her good sense.

      “You’re a wonderful child. Aren’t you, Abby?” she said.

      The girl smiled up at her grandmother, then refilled their water glasses.

      “I’d heard Paradise was a ghost town,” Nate said. “Before we learned about the Covenanters, I was planning to go up that way, take a look around, maybe get some shots.”

      “They won’t like you taking pictures,” Thelma said. “They’re very private. They know what other people are saying about them. When I was there, they definitely seemed a bit…defensive.”

      Abby, who’d refused to look at him or Rachel since they’d come in, was watching them both closely. Gone was the shyness and reluctance he’d witnessed in her mannerisms and bearing so far. Not only was she staring at him directly, she was shaking her head.

      “You don’t like it up there, Abby?” Rachel asked.

      She shook her head again, even more adamantly.

      “She doesn’t want you to go to Paradise,” Thelma said. “She thinks her grandfather is right, that Ethan is dangerous.”

      Nate leaned toward the child to let her know he was talking to her. “As long as we don’t bother him, we should be okay taking a few pictures, don’t you think?”

      The child’s eyes widened and she jerked her head again.

      “Don’t listen to her,” Thelma said. “She can read lips better than you can imagine and picks up on far too much. Richard and Lynne Sinclair have scared her, that’s all.”

      Rachel placed her napkin on the table. “Who’re Richard and Lynne?”

      “They own a ranch between here and Rodeo. They’ve been stopping in almost every day, spouting all kinds of accusations against the Covenanters.”

      “Like?” Rachel prompted.

      Abby didn’t leave. She tapped her grandmother’s arm to get her to turn so that she could see her lips; she seemed to be closely monitoring the conversation.

      “Courtney, their teenage daughter, went missing last month,” Thelma said. “They swear up and down she’s been kidnapped by the Covenanters.”

      “You don’t believe it,” Nate said.

      “No. That girl was always a handful. Cutting herself and thumbing rides with anyone who came through town. She dressed in that gothic garb. You know, the black pants and black T-shirts with black boots. She even wore black nail polish and lipstick. They actually caught her propositioning a couple of old birders! She’d gone out to their campsite to trade you-know-what for the chance to ‘get out of this dump’ as she put it.” She waved a hand in apparent disgust. “She musta run off. She’s done it before.”

      Nate rubbed the condensation on his glass. “What makes her parents believe otherwise?”

      “She went to one of the Covenant meetings a week or two before she disappeared and came home gushing about Ethan. She thought he was—” she made quotation marks with her fingers “—‘hot.’ That’s all. It’s not much to go on, which is why the police haven’t been able to help. They can’t force the Covenanters to let them search without some evidence that she might be in the compound.”

      Rachel took a sip of water. “No one’s seen her since?”

      “No one.”

      “How many Covenanters attend the Introduction Meetings?” Nate asked.

      “Quite a few. Fifteen or twenty. Ethan usually officiates—him or one of the Spiritual Guides.”

      “Aren’t there any women in the leadership?” Rachel asked.

      “No, the men hold all the power.”

      Nate could almost hear Rachel’s spine snapping straight with indignation. She’d come from a church with a strict patriarchal order where that power had been abused. “That doesn’t bother you?”

      “Isn’t that the way it usually is?”

      Nate cut in before the conversation could drift away from what he was interested in learning. “So once people join the commune, can they maintain relationships with their former friends and family?” If so, it might be possible to gain more information from those on the outside. That was his hope in asking, but Thelma’s answer didn’t surprise him.

      “They’re not allowed to see them again, unless Ethan sends them on the Errand of God.”

      “I take it the Errand of God isn’t just getting supplies.”

      “No, the Spiritual Guides get all the supplies. Right after a convert is baptized, he’s sent to warn his family that they’re risking God’s wrath by rejecting the truth. That’s the Errand of God.”

      Sounded more like Ethan’s errand. The more people he converted, the more it would increase his power and enrich his coffers. “Otherwise, they sacrifice all association with their friends and family?”

      “Yep.”

      “And you think that’s okay?”

      “Not exactly okay, but I can understand why they do it. Ethan says Covenanters are in the world but not of the world. They offer spiritual peace and prosperity, and you can’t do that if you’re always looking at the person you used to be before being born again.”

      So, like any good cult leader, Ethan made the most of isolation and alienation. Very convenient. “I see.”

      A noise by the entrance distracted Thelma. A woman and two middle-grade boys had come in. “I’d better get to work,” she said. “It was great chatting with you. We’re happy to have new folks in town.”

      “I’m sure you’ll be seeing a lot more of us,” Rachel said. “Breakfast was delicious.”

      “I’m glad.” Taking their empty plates, she paused by the door on her way to the kitchen. “I’ll be right with you folks,” Nate heard her say. Abby followed her grandmother but returned a moment later with a sheet of paper she’d taken from a stack at the register. She thrust it at him, then stood resolutely beside the table as if she could communicate her thoughts simply by glaring at them.

      Nate glanced at the sheet. It was a Missing flyer for the girl Thelma had been telling them about—Courtney Sinclair.

      “Do you know where Courtney might be?” Rachel asked.

      Shaking her head, the child made several darting hand signals.


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