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How he’d get into the building once he breached the perimeter, he had no idea. He was hoping it wasn’t locked. It probably wasn’t. They lived behind a tall fence patrolled by armed guards. Why would it be necessary to lock the doors?
If the place was locked, he’d just have to break in.
He could do that.
Maybe…
The ground was as hard next to the fence as elsewhere in the desert. Silently cursing the rocks jabbing into his knees as he knelt, he used wire cutters to create the opening. Then he bent the fence and slid underneath on his back so he wouldn’t get snared on a piece of sharp wire.
Once he’d made it through, he saw that the damage to the fence was more obvious than he’d expected. He considered repairing it, at least superficially, but the fact that it was nearly eleven o’clock and most people were in their tents satisfied him that it was safe to wait.
He bent the fence back as far as he could, donned the ball cap he carried in his pocket and took off his jacket and gloves.
Movement and voices from inside the tents reached Nate’s ears as he passed. Keeping to the shadows as much as possible, he put his head down and moved with purpose, and no one seemed to notice him—until he rounded the corner of the cheese factory and started across the open courtyard. Then he encountered a man and a woman, holding hands as they strolled. He attempted to walk right past them, but the man stopped and caught his arm. “Hey, do we know you?”
The Enlightenment Hall was completely empty. Rachel had already tiptoed through the kitchen, which had been cleaned and abandoned for the night, plus the room where they’d performed her baptism and initiation, the conference/dining room and Ethan’s office, all without running into a soul. Now she was back on the second story, standing in a suite of rooms that could only be Ethan’s private chambers. The scent of his cologne was stronger here, and one of his robes had been tossed over a chair.
Hesitating near the door, she listened to make sure no one was coming. Then she shored up her nerve and moved farther into the suite, which consisted of three bedrooms and two baths. The first bedroom, obviously Ethan’s, was the grandest. The second looked lived in, as well, but she wasn’t positive it was Bart’s room until she spotted his blue jalabiya in the closet.
Ethan kept his head of security very close, closer than she would’ve expected. But maybe he was paranoid. Maybe he’d done enough horrible stuff that he should be paranoid….
Beneath the various garments Bartholomew owned was a guitar. She hadn’t thought of him as someone who’d be interested in music.
There were other surprises, as well. The boxes stacked on the shelves above the clothes rail contained photo albums from when Bartholomew was a child. Although Rachel was curious and wanted to look through them—she couldn’t imagine Bartholomew ever being a child—she didn’t dare take the time, not when he and Ethan could return at any moment.
She shoved the albums back where they belonged and poked her head into Bart’s bathroom, but there wasn’t even a washcloth to suggest he’d used it recently. If this was his bedroom, why didn’t he use the bathroom?
“Interesting arrangement,” she murmured, and visited the third room, which was obviously unoccupied.
Once she had an overview of the suite and knew for sure that it was empty, Ethan’s room became her main focus. She went through his closet and drawers and quickly found drug paraphernalia—a pipe and what appeared to be a dime bag of meth. She wished she could turn him in for possession, but that wouldn’t put him out of circulation for very long. She had to come up with something bigger.
The entrance to Ethan’s bathroom was right next to his dresser. It had elegant washbasins, marble floors and a gigantic shower made of clear glass. It was unusually large, almost as big as his bedroom, but the bathroom drawers held the same toiletries found in most bathrooms.
Then it occurred to her—there were two toothbrushes in the holder.
She fingered the bristles. They were both wet.
I was wondering when you were coming to bed….
Ethan’s words had sounded a bit like one married partner speaking to another, but she’d shrugged them off. Bart was Ethan’s bodyguard. Of course they’d stay close. But…those toothbrushes made her wonder just how close.
“Hiding a few more secrets than I expected?” she breathed. If Ethan was g*y, it would be quite ironic that he led a church that followed most other Judeo-Christian religions in condemning homosexuality.
A noise caused Rachel to freeze. She’d put Ethan’s meth in the pocket of her robe. Having discovered some evidence of wrongdoing, she was reluctant to give it up, even though it wasn’t the kind of evidence she needed. But now she wished she’d left it. She didn’t want to be caught in his bathroom with his drugs. They proved she’d been snooping and made it impossible to use the excuse that she was merely seeking him out so they could talk about her conversion or her situation with her husband or whatever.
Listening for the sound she’d heard a moment earlier, she tiptoed through the bedroom and peeked into the hall. The noise wasn’t repeated, but she was fairly sure someone else was in the house. Had Ethan returned? Was he on his way to bed?
A creak broke the silence, coming from the stairs, but it was too dark to see anyone. Should she return the dope or get the hell out?
The second creak convinced her. Someone was climbing the stairs. If she didn’t get out, she’d be trapped.
Swallowing hard, she moved as quietly as possible into the hall. Snippets of her conversation with Nate played in her mind as her heart rate spiked. She didn’t want to be Ethan’s next target. Help me make it. Please help me make it, she prayed.
She breathed more easily once she got to her room. Whatever she’d heard must’ve been a product of her imagination, reinforced by nerves, because as far as she could tell she was still alone. At least, she thought she was alone—until she closed the door. Then someone grabbed her from behind and clapped a hand over her mouth.
Bart was surprised to find their housekeeper, Maxine Maynard, waiting for him at the door to the pit. They’d held no public rituals tonight. They’d had a private meeting for the Guides alone. So why hadn’t she left at ten, as usual? What was she doing here at nearly two in the morning?
“Holy One!” An expression of relief swept over her face the second she spotted Ethan in the crowd coming up the metal staircase, but Bart quickly intercepted her. Ethan wasn’t in his right mind. He wouldn’t be able to respond coherently. If they had a problem on their hands, Bart didn’t even want him to know about it. When he was like this, there was no telling how he might react, how difficult it might be to get him to go to bed and leave the important decisions to Bart.
