White Heat (2 page)

Remembering what she'd been taught regarding the few elect who would rule with God, she made a face. “How do people fall for this crap?” She'd been steeped in it and still couldn't buy it, although there'd been plenty of times she'd wished she could. It would've made her life so much easier.

“I think psychologists say they're not happy with the world in which they're living. Some want to prove how unique and special they are. Others are just hoping to feel as if they belong.” He drummed his fingers on the table. “But who really knows? Motivations are as individual as people.”

“Doesn't sound to me like the world they're building will be any better than the one we've got.” No matter how hard her father and brother had tried to convince her that the afterlife was all that mattered. “How badly did Ethan Wycliff beat the woman who escaped?”

“She says it wasn't him. It was a public event—a stoning modeled after those in the Bible.”

She stiffened. “Stoning is a death sentence in the Bible.”

“Martha managed to escape.”

“How?”

“We don't know exactly. But according to her, Ethan's getting crazier by the day. She says everyone in
the church will wind up dead if someone doesn't do something soon.”

Rachel glanced at the photograph again. This time, Ethan's black eyes appeared far colder than they'd seemed before. “Looks like my job's about to get interesting. Again.” Interesting and potentially dangerous. The dangerous part never changed. But she didn't mind. It kept her fully occupied, kept her from having to acknowledge the fact that she had nothing in her life except the satisfaction of doing a job most people couldn't. “When do I leave?”

“
We
leave in the morning.”

She riveted her eyes on his face. They never worked the same case. He made sure of it. And they both knew the reason. So why the sudden change of heart? “You don't think I can handle it on my own?”

“Milt's decision, not mine.” His response divulged nothing of his own reaction. But she could easily guess how displeased he'd been when he heard the news. He probably feared she'd try to seduce him again. He'd made it very clear that he didn't want that.

“What about Rod?” she asked, trying to control her voice so it wouldn't reveal her panic. “He could go with me.” More than just a coworker, Roderick Guerrero was one of her best friends. She'd feel far more comfortable with him.

“Rod's on another job. So are Jonah, Drake and Kellen.”

“Then maybe Angelina would be a better choice for—”

He shook his head. “She's too new.”

And had no more business in this line of work than Rachel did. He didn't have to say that; Rachel knew he
didn't approve of having females taking on the dangerous stuff. “Then I can handle it alone,” she argued. A homicidal maniac, drunk on his own power, would be easier to face than daily association with Nate. “It'll be more difficult for
two
strangers to gain the trust we'll need.”

“Milt wants us to go in as a couple.”

“What?”
This went beyond going undercover together as…say, friends or acquaintances. What did it mean? Would she be sharing a room—a
bed
—with Nate?

She couldn't do it. Not after the way she'd thrown herself at him six months ago. “How will we get them to accept us?”

“They hold meetings they call Introductions. I'm not sure where. But they're open to the public. Once we find out where to go, you'll attend one, feign interest and drag me to the next one. We'll go from there.”

The plan already seemed set in stone, but surely there had to be a way out. “Where is this cult? Not here in Southern California…”

“No. Paradise, Arizona.”

Allowing his response to distract her, she frowned. “That's the name of the compound?”

“That's the name of the town they've taken over and has been since it was founded more than a century ago.”

“They bought a whole town?”

“Every parcel, and since no one else wanted it, they got it cheap.”

“They actually came across one named Paradise? Ironic, to say the least,” she said. Especially because it certainly wouldn't be Paradise for her.

“Arizona and paradise are an oxymoron, at least this time of year.”

“So it's as barren and hot and dry as the last place we worked?”

“Nevada? It's just as barren. But it's even hotter and dryer. I'd describe it as more of a white heat.”

“It's
that
hot?”

“It's
that
hot.”

He lowered his voice. “And there are a lot more snakes.”

The guys she worked with would never let her live down her fright at the pet boa constrictor Drake had put under her desk a few weeks ago. In a group of hard-asses, any weakness was to be exploited, if only for the sake of entertainment. But she got the impression Nate wasn't needling her for fun. He didn't like the idea of working together any more than she did. He wanted her to fight this assignment, to go outside the chain of command, if necessary, straight to Milt.

For a moment, she considered doing that. But she was relatively new and still trying to prove herself. She couldn't risk getting fired, not with her mortgage. Besides, if there was any way to change Milt's mind, Nate would've already tried it.

“I can put up with snakes,” she lied. “I just wasn't expecting one to come slithering up my leg.”

“I'm not talking about
pet
snakes. I'm talking about rattlers.”

“Doesn't matter.”

His jaw tightened. “This will be dangerous, Rachel.”

“Our job always is.” That was how she liked it. She didn't have to worry about heaven and hell, her father's
disapproval or anything else—just surviving from one day to the next.

They stared at each other in a virtual standoff. She wasn't sure what to do about this, but she wouldn't let him manipulate her into causing trouble inside the company. That would only convince everyone that she was as whiny and hard to please as the guys were afraid a female would be. “I'm not quitting. Or getting myself fired,” she said.

He cursed under his breath, but she ignored it.

“So where are we going
exactly?
Paradise must be south of Flagstaff if—”

“It's in the southeast corner of the state, not far from the Mexico and New Mexico borders. Used to be a ghost town. Until Wycliff decided to revive it, there weren't more than a handful of people living in the area.”

“Are those people still around?” Or did they leave when the Covenanters moved in the way
she
wanted to flee at any mention of prophecy, scriptures or the end of the world?

“For the most part, he either converted them or bought them out.”

She wiped damp palms on her jeans. She was the only female operative at Department 6 with any field experience. That was why Milt had chosen her. They were just beginning to hire women. But who said this assignment required a woman or even a couple? Maybe Nate could go in alone. “Where's Ethan getting the funds to buy land and build a town?” she asked, stalling.

“Like any cult leader, he requires converts to forfeit all their wealth for the greater good. And he makes
everyone work. They sell cheese, for one thing. He also has other resources.”

“Like…”

“A trust fund.”

She sat up straighter. Now Ethan's suit and polish made sense. Apparently, he hadn't attended Cornell on student loans. “He comes from money?”

“You could say that. His father is Robert Wycliff.”

The name meant nothing to her. “It's not as if you said Bill Gates. Who's Robert Wycliff?”

“The owner of the eighth-largest engineering firm in the country. Gets big government contracts, makes the
Forbes
list every year.”

She whistled. “I see. So…who wants to know what little Ethan is up to? The government? Or Daddy?”

“If you heard your son was amassing weapons and explosives, and you knew he once had a relationship with Charles Manson, wouldn't
you
be concerned enough to find out what's going on? Mr. Wycliff doesn't want anyone hurt. And he'd rather not see his only child in prison.”

“He has to have a security contractor? Wouldn't a PI work just as well?”

“He tried that. Ethan's group is isolated and very cliquish. The PI he hired couldn't get close enough. And because of the potential danger, Wycliff senior wanted people who could defend themselves—and others—if necessary.”

She wondered if part of Robert's concern stemmed from a desire to protect his family name. It would certainly be a consideration for her own father. He was forever asking her to make him proud. She'd just never
been able to do it. “How'd he lose track of junior in the first place?”

“He said there's always been something different about Ethan. Their relationship was strained almost from the beginning, but it's gotten worse with time. They've been completely estranged for more than a decade. Ethan dropped out of college, wouldn't work, never applied himself. Robert says he did what he could to turn his son into a productive individual. I get the impression he would've done more if Ethan's mother hadn't stood in his way. She insisted their son was fine, that he just needed to be himself and live his own life.”

“Classic denial,” she said, but she was intrigued in spite of herself. “So Robert backed off?”

“He immersed himself in his work and let her deal with Sonny, until Ethan started to preach in their neighborhood and town. They finally drew the line, so he left to take his followers to a place where they'd be ‘unmolested.' Robert was confident he wouldn't be able to make it work. He thought Ethan would eventually be forced to come home, hoped he'd quit with all the oddness and be the son they wanted him to be.”

“That didn't happen.”

“No. For months, they had no idea where he'd gone—until an assistant Robert hired to follow the money flowing from Ethan's trust fund sent a clipping from a Tucson newspaper. It was an article about the Church of the Covenant taking over Paradise.”

She opened the file and flipped through photocopies of several letters, all written in the blocky print so typical of males. But because she figured there might be a chance to duck this assignment, she closed the file without bothering to read them. “Are the Wycliffs
aware of the woman who claims she was stoned at their son's command?”

“I can't speak for Valerie. Robert is. The PI he used could tell him that much. But Robert's also aware that the police have visited Paradise and found nothing to substantiate Martha's claims.”

“So he's still hoping for the best.”

“Yes.”

Rachel tucked her long hair behind her ears. “What did Martha's husband have to say to the authorities?”

“His name's Todd. He said the same thing Ethan did. That she wanted to watch the children instead of work in the cheese factory and became more and more unhappy when she was denied. He told the police he was disappointed in her, that she wasn't worthy of enlightenment if she could become disaffected so easily and make up such terrible lies.”

“She had to sustain those injuries somehow,” Rachel mused.

“No one in the compound seems to know anything about how she might've been hurt. And unless someone's willing to talk, there's not a whole lot the police can do.”

A growing sense of injustice, the kind that had fueled her desire to get involved in undercover work, began to percolate in Rachel's blood. Society had to take a stand before these cancers grew out of control. And she was willing to be part of the solution. At least in this fight she wouldn't have to hold anything back, the opposite of what she'd experienced with her father. That call to duty tempted her. She wanted to infiltrate the Covenanters and seek justice for the woman who'd been stoned, put an end to Ethan's reign of terror—if
that was indeed what it was. But she couldn't do this assignment pretending to be Nathan's wife. There was too much residual emotion between them. “Why do we need two people on this?”

His eyelids lowered. “If you don't want to do it, you should talk to Milt.”

Of course. They were back where he'd been trying to lead her all along. “Why bother? You've already tried, haven't you?”

He didn't respond.

“I'll take that as a yes. What did he say?”

Stretching out his legs, he crossed them at the ankles. “He said Ethan likes women. Pretty women. He said you're the bait that'll get us both in.”

Here was the difference between Milt and Nate, Rachel thought. Milt would send his own wife undercover if there was something to be gained by it. But it was Nate's job to make sure everyone remained safe, which was why he wasn't thrilled when Milt began using women in the field. He came from a conservative family where he'd been taught to protect “the fairer sex.” And his SEAL training supported his upbringing.

“That's a pretty unequivocal no,” she said.

Nate's eyes nearly drilled holes into her. “You could always quit. Someone as qualified as you would have no trouble getting back on the police force.”

And lose her house to the bank? No, thank you.

She leaned forward to prove she wasn't intimidated by him. “Sorry to disappoint you, but it's my life and I'd rather get paid well for the risks I take.” She also liked having a clearly defined target for the legacy of anger her father had left her, and she had more latitude working for Department 6. “If you're afraid you can't
effectively manage me or Angelina or any other woman Milt might hire, maybe
you
should be the one considering a career change.”

Silence. He definitely wasn't happy with her challenge.