White Heat

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.

“I’m sorry…I don’t sign.”

She made the same signals again, more slowly this time, then hurried off.

The flyer had a picture of a girl that reminded Nate of the character Lily on The Munsters. “What do you suppose that was all about?”

Rachel shrugged, so he took the flyer and tossed twenty dollars on the table to cover the bill plus a tip.

Thelma was busy seating her new patrons as they started across the restaurant, but a grizzled Indian with bowed legs and a black cowboy hat stood in the kitchen doorway, watching.

Rachel must have assumed he was Chaske, because she paused the moment she spotted him and mimicked the child’s motions. “What does this mean?”

“Bad people,” he answered, and turned away.

8

Bartholomew took one look at Ethan and quickly clasped his arm, then turned him around. His hair was mussed, his pupils dilated, and he smelled as though he’d walked out of a massage parlor. Ethan was doing too many drugs. Normally, Bartholomew didn’t mind. He believed in freedom of choice and expression as much as Ethan did and wasn’t opposed to running the compound when Ethan was indisposed. But Ethan needed to be coherent in times of trouble, and that meant now.

“You’re not well, Holy One,” he said when Ethan tried to yank his arm away.

“Didn’t you hear? Courtney’s mother is at the gate.”

“I know.” Bartholomew encouraged him to return to the Enlightenment Hall, but Ethan tried to shake him off again.

“I need to tell that bitch to get lost!”

“I doubt she’d react favorably to that. But don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”

“What will you tell her?”

When Ethan stumbled over his own feet, Bartholomew had to keep him from falling facefirst in the dirt. “I’ll tell her what we agreed to say.”

They finally reached the Enlightenment Hall and walked through the front doors. “What was that?”

“You’ll remember when you can think straight.”

Sister Maxine stood in the doorway to the kitchen. “Is everything okay?”

Bart waved her away and led Ethan toward the stairs. He didn’t want her or anyone else to see the Holy One in such a state. Despite his open acceptance of drug use, he had an image to uphold. He could not appear to be letting it get the best of him. “It’s fine. Go back to your dishes.”

“Maybe you should invite her in.” Ethan was still talking about Mrs. Sinclair. “Maybe if we give her an audience, we can convince her Courtney was never here.”

“No.” Bart wasn’t willing to even consider it.

Ethan’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We could take her to the pit, teach her to mind her own business.”

The pit was used for their most sacred, and secret, rituals. There was one key to the heavy metal door; Ethan held it. Only the Brethren, their wives and select Covenant members knew what went on there, and they’d all taken an oath not to divulge the smallest detail. It was part of the Covenant of Brotherly Love. So far, they’d been able to maintain absolute secrecy. Each person knew what would happen if he or she talked. But a greater deterrent than the threat of harm was the fact that they were all involved. Telling would incriminate the whistle-blower as much as the rest.

“That would just make the problem bigger,” he said, and helped Ethan up the stairs.

“She won’t leave us alone. She’ll keep coming.”

“No, she won’t.” Hoping to distract him, Bart changed the subject. “I’m afraid this isn’t any happier news, but I received notice from the investigator we hired a few weeks ago that Martha’s suing the church.”

Ethan stumbled again. “What? Where’s she getting the money to do that?”

Bart stabilized him until he could recover his balance. “Who knows? Donations, maybe. Or she’s made friends with some sympathetic and overzealous lawyer. She’s got the whole outside world feeling sorry for her.”

At last they reached the landing. “You told me you were going to bring her back!”

“I am.”

“When?”

“As soon as I can.”

Ethan seemed to lose direction until Bart gently guided him toward his room. “What does she hope to gain?”

“The return of her property.”

They hesitated outside the door to the suite where they each had a room. “She deserves to lose the small amount she gave up when she joined us,” Ethan said. “She’s the one who broke her covenants. She’s the one who disobeyed. That whore’s possessed by demons.”

“When we get her back, you can cast them out.” The idea of an exorcism excited Bart. He loved watching Ethan in action. It was a sight to behold. And, as the only woman who’d ever defied them and lived to tell about it, Martha was the perfect candidate for this painful and degrading process. It galled Bart to think she was in the outside world, walking around, saying anything she wanted, after the effort they’d exerted to keep their actions, thoughts and practices to themselves. Eighty percent of the compound didn’t know as much as she did. Besides taking the Covenant, she’d participated in some of the rituals in the pit.

Bart lowered his voice to a whisper. “You should know that several of the Brethren disagree with bringing her back here.”

“Who cares? I’m the only one who matters.”

Bart swung the door wide. Fortunately, the women were dressed and leaving. He waited until they were gone to continue. “You and I know that. But they might make trouble. And we can’t risk a division. Internal strife leads to self-destruction.”

“What do they expect me to do?”

“Nothing.” Bart pushed Ethan down onto the bed. “They prefer to let the scandal die.”

“The only way it will die is if she dies with it. What we’ve built is too good to allow Satan to destroy it. We’ll use the minds and hands God gave us to protect His work.”

“Of course you’re right, Holy One. I’ll see that it happens.”