Ritual Sins Read Online Free

moved the chair and opened it, half expecting her nemesis to make a reappearance, but the person standing there was a far cry from Luke Bardell’s unsettling, lethal presence.
    She looked like the kind of mother Rachel had always secretly dreamed of. Plump and gray-haired, with kindly eyes and a sweet expression on her elderly face, the woman exuded warmth and concern. The kind of thing Rachel knew she should automatically distrust.
    But anger seemed to be taking too much of her energy. She looked at the sweet old lady and felt a treacherous, sentimental longing.
    “I’m Catherine Biddle,” the old woman said in a soft, gentle voice. “We spoke the night your mother died. My dear, I’m so very sorry I wasn’t able to give you more comfort at that sad time.”
    Rachel tried to summon forth her caustic tongue, but her efforts were mild. “I wasn’t in the mood for comfort at that point,” she said.
    “And you aren’t yet, are you?” Catherine said wisely. “Never mind, my dear. All things in their due course. I was hoping you might join me for dinner.”
    “Here?” She knew she sounded doubtful.
    “Where else would we go? All the answers we need are here with Luke’s People. We all share our meals—Santa Dolores is communal living at its purest. But if you care to join us at our table we would welcome you most happily.”
    “Everyone eats together?” she asked warily. Despite the fact that her mysterious ally would be there, she wasn’t in the mood to confront all the happy campers of the Foundation of Being en masse. Particularly their leader.
    “From the newest follower to Luke himself.”
    “I’m not a follower,” she said sharply.
    “Of course not, dear,” Catherine said comfortably. “I didn’t mean to imply that you were. Butyou’ve come to learn our ways, haven’t you? To see how your mother’s generous bequest is helping others less fortunate? You’ve come with an open mind and a willingness to partake of the peace and tranquility only Luke’s way can offer?”
    The very thought filled her with horror. But Catherine Biddle looked so sweet and hopeful, so trusting, that something kept Rachel from being blisteringly frank.
    “I’ve come to learn,” she said with complete honesty. And she would learn everything she could. Of course, she intended to use her newfound knowledge to strip the Foundation of her mother’s money as well as anything else she might manage to get away with. And to see Luke Bardell in hell if she could manage it.
    “Of course you have,” Catherine said approvingly. “And learn you shall. And all the Grandfathers will be glad to help.”
    “I don’t want to get anywhere near the Grandfathers,” Rachel said, following her into the hall. “I spend as little time as I can with old men in suits.”
    “Grandfather isn’t a particularly descriptive term for our group of leaders. Most of them are old, but they’re not all men.” Catherine appeared faintly amused. “The Grandfathers dress as everyone else does here. You can tell what people do by the color of their clothing. Newcomers wear green. The Grandfathers wear gray.”
    Catherine’s tunic and pants were a pale dove-gray. “Oh,” Rachel said.
    “We’re nothing to be afraid of, Rachel,” Catherine continued in her soft, friendly voice. “The Grandfathers are like everyone else here, using their life knowledge for the good of humanity. We’d really like to show you some of our ways.”
    For some reason the cynical response that rose to Rachel’s lips stayed there, unspoken. She may have been fiercely resistant to Luke Bardell’s mesmerizing tactics, but Catherine’s maternal warmth was a more potent threat.
    She compromised. “I expect it will all be very interesting,” she said carefully.
    Rachel hadn’t been paying attention to her sparse surroundings as they walked. Catherine had stopped by a pair of thick, plain doors, and she looked up at Rachel, her gray hair coming askew from its