That was a chilling thought all on its own, but she didn't have time to pursue it. Instead, she hissed fiercely in the woman's ear, "I won't hurt you if you stay still. Understand?"

  The woman gave a nod. She was breathing hard.

  "Please, please don't kill me," she whispered in a shaking voice. The words made Cora recoil. Her compliance wasn't just learned behavior. It was a frantic effort to save herself.

  Something dark and chilling was afoot here. Being killed? She was now sure that others had been.

  It didn't seem like the woman was going to scream. Not right now, anyway. Cora didn't know about what would happen later, but she knew she needed to be fast.

  She dragged her backward, behind the cover of the tree, to where Gabe was waiting.

  "Take off your robe," she said. "I need it. I need to get in there."

  The woman's eyes widened in fear as Cora tugged the white cloak off her shoulders. Underneath it, she was wearing clothing that Cora guessed had been issued by the cult. A gray skirt and a black top, shapeless and cheap and loose fitting.

  "Why are you doing this?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. "Who are you?"

  "We're looking to help you. People have died, right?" Cora whispered back. “Is that what you’ve heard?”

  The woman pressed her lips together and shook her head, her eyes bright with fear. For sure, she knew something had happened. But for sure, she wasn't talking.

  She was too scared to. But she could try to push it, at least.

  "Who died?" she asked, hissing out the words. "Did a woman called Heidi die?"

  Again, the other woman shook her head. She wasn't saying a thing. If Cora wanted answers, she'd need to go in and find someone who could give them to her.

  Cora quickly pulled the cloak on over her own clothes, covering herself from head to toe. She tugged the hood over her head, wrapped the loose folds around her. She hoped she’d pass as one of them.

  "Do not scream," she threatened the woman again as Gabe grasped her arms. "We won't hurt you, but if you scream, that promise goes out the window."

  Cora was already moving away towards the church. She couldn't wait, couldn't hesitate. She had to do this.

  She picked up the basket that the woman had dropped and filled it with a few more pine needles.

  Then, with her head down, walking slowly, she rounded the corner of the church. She almost bumped into another of the white-robed acolytes, also heading out with an empty basket. That was an additional risk. Cora hoped to hell that wherever this woman was going, it would not be close enough for Gabe and his hostage to be seen.

  Or for the hostage to decide that it was worth screaming for help.

  Those were risks she couldn't do anything about right now.

  The woman murmured an acknowledgment as she passed. Keeping her head down, Cora muttered something unintelligible back under her breath.

  Then she rounded the corner and approached the church door.

  The guard standing there moved toward her, and Cora caught her breath. Surely she wasn't going to be searched or checked for some form of ID?

  Her heart accelerated, but to her relief, all the guard did was produce some essential oil, which he sprinkled over the pine needles, before taking out a cigarette lighter and lighting them so that they smoldered. The blend of pine and oil produced a suffocatingly strong smell that made Cora's eyes water and her nose twitch. Holding the smoking basket, she headed inside and joined the circle, picking an empty spot and hoping she was standing in the right place.

  Nobody was saying anything, and she wasn’t getting any strange looks, so hopefully she was blending in.

  Discreetly, Cora glanced around her, taking in what was happening here because now the chanting was rising to a crescendo. Now she thought that the real business of the evening was going to get underway.

  And so it was. A tall man stepped into the center of the circle. Looking at him closely, Cora thought he was the man that she'd seen earlier in the ballroom with the black mask. He was definitely a senior figure, if not the leader. She wasn’t close enough to see if he looked like Pierre Maison.

  He began to speak, his voice deep and commanding. He was also using English. She guessed that since the foundation attracted people from many countries, it was the language that was the most convenient to use.

  "Today, we are going to take in one more person into an inner circle of our family to become one of our closest and most privileged brothers and sisters," he said. "Not everybody is able to walk this far on their journey with the Foundation. This is the highest level and a great accolade."

  Everyone was listening in breathless silence to his words.

  "The ones who are chosen will be blessed and spiritually enriched in a way I cannot describe. But the road is not easy. They will also be the ones who need to put in the labor, the loving toil, to earn their place. It is for that reason that we choose very carefully, and there are certain qualities that you have to possess, or else develop, to reach this point.”

  It seemed like everyone in the circle was holding their breath. She sensed tension filling the air.

  “If you are unworthy, you may be asked to leave,” he said. “There is always a place for the worthy and strong. But not for the weak, not here.”

  Now, the silence was so intense that Cora could hear the rapid breathing of the women on either side of her. As for her, cold shivers were racing their way up and down her spine.

  Was this leader doing this, causing these deaths? Was he killing people that he deemed unworthy or not strong enough to join this cult? That was her deep suspicion, and if that was the case, then every single woman in this circle was at risk.

  And she had to catch him in the act.

  He took a deep breath and read out a name.

  "Maria Ferozzi, step forward."

  A woman standing two away from Cora in the circle caught her breath. She moved forward, almost as if in a trance. She approached the man, and he took her hands.

  "Come with me. It is time for the ceremony."

  He led her with him out of the church's main hall and into a side room. The side room had a wooden door which was standing partway open. He didn’t close it, and from beyond, she could hear the murmur of voices. But she couldn’t see what was happening in there. Where would this acolyte go from here? Would she return to the room or not? Would she be alive, or would he kill her – or else sentence her to some strange death?

  She glanced up at the balconies above. Nope, she would have had to have positioned herself there much earlier to get a look, and they had no way of knowing this was going to happen. So she would have to get closer to that door.

  Trying to stay unobtrusive, she sidled a few steps closer to that door, checking it out, holding her smoldering basket aloft, just one of many white-garbed figures who were anonymous and clearly disposable.

  Looking at the door, and the scenario, more closely, she had her answer.

  She wasn’t going to do it subtly. Not this time.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  As Cora looked closely at that door, so big and solid, she saw that the latch was on the inside. And that changed everything. It meant if she could get in there, she could close herself in and the others out. And then, up close and personal with this leader or senior, she was going to get answers using whatever means it took.

  Was there anyone senior still in this room? Now that the duo had disappeared into the side room, Cora noted that the group seemed more relaxed. She even heard a couple of whispers. People were talking among themselves. She heard some admiring notes in the low voices and also a barbed moment of jealousy.

  Achieving one of these coveted places made you enemies, that was clear.

  But she was sure the more relaxed atmosphere would not have developed if anyone senior had been present, and that meant that there were no decision-makers here.

  There was the man at the door, but he was one person only. Calling for backup would take time. And perhaps nobody would realize what was happening in this place where everyone seemed conditioned to just accept.

  Cora guessed she was close enough to make her move.

  She put the basket down. Then, discreetly, keeping her head low, she walked to the door, just as if she was supposed to be doing it. She took a look inside, needing to assess the situation before she got herself into it.

  Sure enough, as she'd expected, the leader was sitting on a bench with the new acolyte. His hands were on her shoulders, and he was looking deeply into her eyes. Clearly, Cora guessed cynically, she was passing the test very well and would swiftly be accepted into the inner circle.

  But close contact aside, it was clear it was just him and her in here. She turned, shut the door quietly, and snapped the latch closed.

  Now, nobody could open it from the outside. Now it was just the three of them in this room, nice and cozy. Time for answers.

  Already, the leader was jumping to his feet. His face was horrified, furious, and Cora guessed that his first impression had been that she was a real recruit who'd gone rogue.

  When she flung back her hood, staring him in the eye as he jumped up and strode over, he realized differently, and she saw the shock in his face.

  It was Pierre Maison. She was face to face with the astounded leader, without his defenses or his followers or his guards. They were on the other side of a bolted door. The only person with him was a terrified acolyte.

  "Who are you? And what are you doing here?" he demanded, trying to regain control of the situation. His voice was shaking with shock and also with anger, she thought. But even at this pressured moment, he kept his words quiet. Cora guessed immediately that he didn't want anyone outside of the room to know what was happening. They must not know that he'd been caught at a disadvantage.

  Behind him, the new recruit shrank back on the bench, staring horrified at what was happening but not saying a word. Glancing at her, Cora saw real fear in her face, too. All these people were scared to death, and it was time to get the reasons out into the open.

  It was time to find out if this man himself was the reason.

  "I'm here because I’ve been asked to find out about Heidi le Roux. What happened to her?"

  Under the robe, Cora had her hand on her gun. She wouldn’t hesitate to use it. She was sure this leader must be manipulating people, brainwashing them, prying them away from their families, and forcing them to serve the cult, along with everything that was involved.

  But was he killing the ones who refused to comply or who didn't meet his standards? Cora felt white-hot rage consume her at that thought. It was taking things way too far. Destroy their lives; that was bad enough. But take their lives?

  If he’d done that, then this man was going to pay for it.

  There was silence outside. She guessed none of the other acolytes knew that there was anything wrong. They were not hammering on the door and trying to break in, and nor could she hear any raised voices. She was sure there were whispers. Lots of whispers.

  "Tell me," she said. Her hand moved over the grip of her gun. Its size and shape felt unfamiliar to her; it wasn't the easy familiarity of her own weapon. But any gun's grip was good enough for her. Any gun's grip was a reassuring feeling. And at least she knew this one worked just fine, and it had five bullets still waiting.

  He stared at her, his chest rising and falling. He couldn't get to the door. She was blocking it. He couldn't shout for help, or his credibility with the group outside would be blown. And if he tried to reach for his phone, or if he happened to have a weapon on him - well, Cora knew for a fact he wouldn't get it out of wherever he was hiding it before her own bullet plowed into him.

  But he didn't. He stared at her for a moment, the expression on his face watchful and combative and suddenly looking a lot less sleekly handsome than he had done.

  The veneer of charm had crumbled. Now, the true person under it could be seen.

  But still, he was sticking to his lines.

  "You don't understand. We are doing important work here. Work that nobody else is brave enough to undertake. The world is in chaos, and we are trying to find a way to save it," he said.

  "All well and good," Cora said. "But it doesn't answer any of my questions. I asked them for a reason, and I was short on time. If you're not going to answer them, I'll have to find another way of persuading you. It won't be as nice." She paused. "Heidi Le Roux. Was she an acolyte here? What happened to her? Why isn't her family getting messages from her anymore?"

  He stared at her, his gaze darting back and forth from her face to the hand at her hip. She thought he knew pretty well what was there. And that she was prepared to use it.

  Eventually, he said in a low voice, "She died."

  "Died? She died, and you didn't inform her family? She died, and you never told a soul?" The grip felt hard and firm in her hand as rage boiled inside her.

  "She had been initiated," he insisted, his jaw jutting, his voice defensive. "She made the choice to give up her worldly past, renounce her family. She wanted to cut ties with them. She was unhappy in her old life. She shared some moments between herself and her parents that had influenced her choices. She was glad to renounce them. She signed legal documents that requested no more contact with her family. We were her new family and her new life. So we were the ones who gave her a burial. We mourned her death."

  "Why did you kill her?" Cora seethed, wanting nothing more now than to pull that trigger and wipe this man off the face of the earth. He was a slimeball, a murderous one to boot. He didn't deserve to breathe any more air. She should just do it right now and save humanity from any more of this evil.

  He stared at her some more, and this time, she saw the beginnings of fear.

  "I did not kill her. We would never do such a thing here," he said.

  Narrow-eyed, she stared at him, not buying his story for a moment.

  "Then who did? How did she die?"

  The question rang out loudly. The words hung in the air, heavy as incense.

  And then, the leader shook his head, and for the first time, Cora thought she was seeing genuine honesty without the artifice and the arrogance. This man was scared.

  "Her death was impossible," he whispered.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Cora stared at Pierre Maison, not trusting him fully. The foundation leader was giving her an explanation, but she wasn't buying it. Not yet.

  But he was also giving her surprising perspectives. He had tried to argue that there were two sides to Heidi Le Roux's decision and that it truly had been an unbiased choice to renounce her family. She didn't know if she believed that, but at least he'd offered it up.

  What she did believe was that he was traumatized by the deaths. That she could see in his body language. Even if running a 'foundation,' as it was euphemistically called, was nothing more than a cynical machine that revolved around money and power, they were in trouble now. These deaths were affecting business, and they were affecting him personally.

  “But have you called the police?” she asked. “Have these deaths even been reported? How do you do things here? Because I have to say, so far, the answer is ‘weirdly.”

  “Of course, we have called the police! But they found nothing," he said defensively.

  Now, Cora really wasn’t buying that. The only explanation she could think of was that someone in the police was getting paid to turn a blind eye.

  "What happened?" she asked.

  He didn't answer. He turned away and grasped the young female acolyte gently by the shoulders. He helped her up and turned her in the direction of a door on the far side.

  Cora looked at him suspiciously.

  "Maria needs to go through. This conversation is not for her ears,” he said firmly

  Cora hadn't heard anything from behind that door, but she didn't trust this.

  "Open it," she snapped.

  He opened the door. Cora moved sideways, not too far from her guarding post. She could see beyond. And it looked like a tiny storeroom, where there was nothing except a few white robes. That was what it seemed to be, but for all she knew, there was a secret passage leading outside. She didn't know and suddenly felt as if she'd lost a few points of initiative here. But he wasn't asking her. This was clearly a non-negotiable.

  The leader ushered Maria in. As he closed the door, he leaned forward and whispered a few words to her. Cora's focus sharpened. Was he reassuring her and telling her everything would be okay and that this was just a minor issue, just a small problem that had to be resolved? Was that what he was saying soothingly?

  Or was he whispering a threat to her, warning her that if she said a word about this, ever, she would suffer dire consequences and a similar fate?

  Cora was not thrilled about that idea but acknowledged it was a possibility.

  The third option that she liked the least was that he was telling her to sound the alarm, to call in the guards, to bring help and backup. And he might just be doing that. This foundation seemed to operate on the borderline of the law. She didn't know if she trusted any of what this leader said.

  For now, though, she had a promise to keep, a promise she’d made to Stefan’s family. She had to find out the truth about Heidi. And she knew he wouldn’t want to tell her everything. He’d been briefly surprised, but he would regroup, and she’d have to be ready to outmaneuver the master of trickery himself.

  She was up for the battle.

  He turned to her, and now she saw the anger in his eyes.

  “You have no right to come in here, to interrupt a private ceremony, and at a time when we are locking down, hard, on security,” he said. “I should call the police for you.”

  "Go ahead," she said, folding her arms. "Call them now. I'll wait."

  He stared at her. Then he let out a slow breath.

 

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