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“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.
“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.”
