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.
