Page 102 of Lethal Danger

A gentle hand, softly comforting and supporting through the contact. “Did they try to brainwash you, too?” Her question was quiet, her voice colored with so much empathy that a lump clogged his throat.

He cleared it away before attempting to answer. “They tried through the school they have at the cult. Everything is carefully designed to indoctrinate the children into the cult’s philosophies and lies.”

He let go of the bumper and ran his sweaty palms down his jeans, sunshine pouring heat from the sky. “I was so angry that I think that helped keep me from believing what they taught us. And I had the evidence of the cult’s destructive power on my parents.” Hawthorne turned his head to meet Jazz’s gaze.

The compassion in her eyes hit him hard, slipping past his defenses again to knock on the walls of his heart.

He looked away, grabbing at what he’d been going to say before he could be tempted down an emotional path he shouldn’t take. “I realized later, it was really the grace of God that created the circumstances which kept me from buying Patch’s teaching.”

He let the statement float between them. If she wasn’t a believer, as Nevaeh had said, he was curious to see how she’d respond to the concept of God’s grace.

“You sound like some of the agents at PK-9.”

He glanced at her to catch the smirk on her lips.

“Are you a Christian, too?”

Too. As if she had more Christians than she wanted in her life. Well, good. Maybe God was already working on her. “I am. A chaplain led me to Christ when I was in the service.”

“Led you.” No missing her sardonic tone.

“Did I say something funny?”

“I just don’t know why you’d want anything you have to be led to. It’s like being forced to follow someone you don’t want to, just like Patch got your parents to do.” She swung a hand toward the commune for emphasis.

Hawthorne nodded. “I see your point. It could sound like that. But what I mean by led is more like someone showing me the better path that was there all along, but I hadn’t seen it before. Someone helping me realize what I didn’t know I wanted until I saw it. Does that make sense?”

She threw him a skeptical glance, then looked away. “Still sounds too much like Patch for my taste.”

“I didn’t have to be dragged or forced by any person to become a Christian. And I didn’t have to be conned or manipulated either. But I also didn’t want to be a Christian.”

She brought her gaze back to his face at that, surprise lifting her eyebrows.

“I didn’t want to be reconciled to God and forgiven of my sins until God changed me from the inside out. He had to change me so I could begin to want what I hadn’t known I most needed.”

“That sounds really confusing. And still a little like echoes of Patch.”

“Maybe in some ways. Evil and lies are often most convincing when they masquerade as poor imitations of the truth. What better way to get people to accept a twisted, destructive fake instead of the real thing?”

“I’ve seen plenty of imitations of Christians in my lifetime. My dad said my mom was a churchgoer. Aunt Joan and Uncle Pierce never missed a Sunday except when they were traveling or on their yacht.”

Hawthorne winced. A negative history with people who claimed to be Christians wouldn’t help Jazz want to come to Christ. “Anyone can go to church. That doesn’t make them Christians. What about your co-workers? Nevaeh?”

Jazz pressed her lips together. Hopefully an indication he’d pointed her in the right direction. But she lifted her wristwatch to eye level. “I should head out. Lunch plans.” She stood and turned toward him. “But I made an appointment for Thursday to interview some members of the cult.”

A twinge of something like worry pinged behind his ribs. “You sure you want to come back here?”

“No. But I do want to figure out who’s behind the sabotage before they strike again.” She grinned. “Be sure to tell me the code for next time so you can confirm they haven’t brainwashed me when I get out. Maybe ‘Venice has never been charming.’”

“You really do know Carson Steele.”

“Already read Seconds in Shadow twice. Kept me up when I should’ve been sleeping.”

He couldn’t help the big smile that stretched his mouth wide. “You liked it?”

“Let’s put it this way. I thought Midnight Sun would always be my favorite. But not anymore.” She flashed a meaningful smile. “This one is your best yet.”

That mixture of relief and elation he always felt when a reader loved his stories seeped through his chest. He should’ve said thank you or something charming. But he stood there like a dope just long enough for her to brush past him, dropping a parting, amused whisper in his ear.

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