by Julie Cave
"I represent a powerful international humanist organization," the other person explained. "We've had success in other countries lobbying in areas such as separation of church and state, human rights, and freedom of expression. I heard through the grapevine that you might be looking for our services."
"Really," said Winters guardedly. "What services do you provide, exactly?"
"We have extensive experience in lobbying governments. We have a large network of contacts within media organizations that can publicize our latest reforms. We have high-profile supporters who are able to raise funds very quickly, if need be. We have writers and speakers who can produce the materials we need to distribute among the population."
Winters knew all of this. He was nothing if not a thoroughly prepared and meticulous individual.
"Our support base is growing constantly. Secular humanism has all but replaced organized religion in the developed world, and we have become very powerful. I'm confident we can help you achieve what you are aiming for."
Winters considered this in silence for several moments. Secular humanism was a philosophy that embraced human reason and justice, and rejected supernatural and religious doctrine as the basis for morality and decision-making.
Winters looked at his companion with hooded eyes. "What do your services cost?"
"We simply require your public endorsement. You are an influential and significant individual in this culture. Your support would assist in cementing our presence here in the States."
Winters thought about it. "You don't want financial assistance?"
The contact smiled. "We would ask for your help with fundraising activities, if required."
Winters nodded. "What do you know about what I'm trying to do?"
"I know only in broad terms that you want to further widen the separation between church and state."
"That is correct," Winters confirmed. "There are two issues I want to resolve. The first is that recently the United States Court of Appeals for the Ninth Circuit ruled that the phrase 'under God' in the Pledge of Allegiance does not violate the Constitution. The second is the refusal of the same court to remove the words 'In God We Trust' from our currency. Both are clear violations of the human rights of the secularist."
His companion watched him shrewdly. "That's it?"
"Isn't that enough?" Winters demanded.
"What about Christmas nativity scenes? Singing Christmas carols in shopping malls? Governmental funding of Christian ministries?"
Winters pursed his lips. "I hadn't thought of that," he admitted.
"There is much we can help you with. What if I told you I have the capability to enlist some churches in your campaign?"
Winters raised his eyebrows. "What? You can use Christians to fight against Christianity?"
"There is no limit to what we can do. We have an extensive network within churches, as well."
Winters ate in silence for a moment, then he said, "You know, I think we'll get along just fine."
After the humanist contact had left, Winters finished his meal in blessed solitude. He was tempted to let himself think about what he could achieve with his humanist agenda, but first he had the small matter of those losers from the Movement to think about. Drumming his fingers on the table, he thought quickly. A solution surfaced in his mind, and he smiled.
****
When Dinah's cell phone rang, she knew immediately who it would be.
"Hello, Senator Winters," she said warily.
"Well, Dinah. Still among the land of the living?" he inquired.
"No thanks to your efforts," snapped Dinah.
"How was the vodka?"
Dinah didn't reply.
Senator Winters laughed. "I knew you'd drink it, you hopeless lush."
"Do you actually have a point to this call?" Dinah demanded.
"Did you hear about the Health Care Reform Bill being passed in the Senate?" Winters asked. "I know you've become friends with those Christian fundamentalists, so I thought you might be interested to know that it was largely my contribution that got that bill through."
"What do you want, a slap on the back? Applause?" Dinah asked.
"It'll be thanks to my bill that when you're an old drunk dying of cirrhosis in a hospital that we'll be able to euthanize you before you waste any more valuable resources," said Winters maliciously. "I only hope I'll be around to see the day."
"I'm sure that first your murderous history will be discovered and you'll spend the rest of your days rotting in a jail cell," rejoined Dinah. "How's that for a waste of resources?"
"Oh, Dinah." Winters laughed. "I'd forgotten how funny you are. That'll never happen, because I'm strong and you're weak. That means that I'll win and you'll lose."
"If you're trying to scare me, you're failing miserably," Dinah said.
"I'm rich and powerful," snarled Winters, suddenly losing his composure for a second. "It should scare you."
Dinah remained silent.
"I see you managed to catch a killer," Winters said conversationally, after a beat.
"A killer remarkably like you," Dinah said. "Very little concern for human life, considered himself superior to everyone else."
"A man after my own heart," Winters said.
"Just a man, living out the rest of his life in jail," Dinah said. "Like you should be."
"It'll never happen," snapped Winters.
Then Dinah had an idea. "You know, I've got to change the way I think about you," she said. "I think of you as an enemy but I have pretty clear instructions about how I'm supposed to treat you."
"Oh, here we go," Winters said derisively. "Are you about to start some religious rant?"
"I'm supposed to love my enemies, and turn the other cheek," Dinah said. "If Jesus can do that while hanging in agony on the Cross, then surely I can follow His example. So from now on, Senator, I will treat you with love, not hatred."
Winters laughed. "That is the most nauseating thing I've ever heard."
"Second," Dinah continued, undaunted, "God is just as concerned about the destination of your eternal spirit as anyone else's. And so I am going to pray for your salvation every day. I pray that you will come to know the transforming power of Christ's sacrifice on the Cross, just as I have."
Winters actually seemed stunned for a moment. Then he snarled, "You can pray for me, Dinah. In the meantime, I'll continue to run this country."
Abruptly, he hung up. Dinah smiled. It was like she had poured hot coals on his head.
****
Captain Stuart Messina wiped his brow and stood back from the flames. The fellow firefighter standing next to him, Will Frost, trained the hose on a window where fire leaped up as though trying to escape its own inferno.
"This is too hot," Stuart remarked.
"My guess is accelerant," agreed Will. "Can you smell gasoline or something like that?"
"Not yet," said Stuart, gulping down some water. "We'll have to wait and…."
He was cut off by a loud cracking noise as the roof of the cabin collapsed. Sparks shot into the air and the flames began devouring the roof structure greedily.
Stuart glanced around him. Thankfully it was a rural property and there were no other buildings nearby to which the fire could spread. The fire had been well out of control when his truck had arrived, and all they could do was lessen the time the fire raged. The building would be completely destroyed.
The neighbors claimed that the cabin was mostly empty, and there had been no vehicles parked outside it. It was owned by a supermarket entrepreneur from DC who occasionally used it for vacations. Consequently, Stuart had not ordered a search-and-rescue. It would probably have been a moot point anyway, given the stage of the fire and the temperature. He doubted that anyone could have safely entered the cabin to mount an operation.
The firefighters battled to control the blaze as the night wore on. Eventually, it began to die down and the intense heat began to dissipate. Six hours after their arrival, he finally all
owed a team to enter what remained of the building to assess the damage.
It didn't take long for an alarmed shout to rise from the cabin like a startled bird. Stuart tensed, a second of dread filling his heart. He raced to the back, where his team had entered. Will Frost stood near what looked like a damaged fireplace built of stone. Worry etched lines on his blackened face.
"What is it?" Stuart asked.
Will pointed, and Stuart followed with his eyes. Lying near the fireplace were three bodies, unidentifiable due to the flames. There was no mistaking their human form.
Stuart felt sick. "The neighbors said there wouldn't be anyone home!" he exclaimed.
"Captain, it doesn't matter," said Will. "The heat was too intense. There is no way we could have gotten in here to save them."
Professionally, Stuart knew this was true. But he never ceased to be gutted by the loss of human life.
"Another thing," said Will. "The fireplace was doused with gasoline. I can smell it."
Stuart sniffed and compartmentalized the scorched wood, the singed electrical, and the smoke. Underneath it all was the unmistakable sweet tang of gasoline.
"Arson and murder," he muttered. "What a great night. I'll call the cops and an ambulance."
Stuart returned to the truck, where he radioed for help. As he did so, he couldn't help but wonder — how had the three people arrived at the building without a vehicle? How had the neighbors missed seeing anyone at the cabin? Were they brought here specifically to be murdered?
Stuart ordered his team out of the cabin to preserve the crime scene. While the cabin smoldered, his weary firefighters began to pack up their equipment.
He spoke to the police who arrived and he watched the ambulance slowly drive away with three human bodies inside. At first light, the arson investigators would comb through the cabin and he would be required to be there. First light was only a few hours away.
It would necessitate dental records to identify the three deceased persons. They would be identified as Edward Sable, Leonard Marks, and Susan Epping. Nobody knew why they were at the cabin or, indeed, how they'd even gotten there. Nobody knew that they had been the president, secretary, and treasurer, respectively, of the Movement, a shadowy and secretive eugenics organization that few people had realized even existed. Nobody knew but Senator Winters.
And he wasn't talking.
Excerpt from Pieces of Light
Enjoy a sneak preview of the third book in the compelling new Dinah Harris mystery series, Pieces of Light, available June 2011!
I dream that I have a normal life — loving parents, perhaps a wife and kids. I dream of being stuck in traffic, waiting on a delayed flight in an airport, being unable to find a parking space, and a thousand other little grievances because it would mean that I was free. I know there aren't many who feel sympathy for me. After all, what about the lives of the victims?
That's true. I don't have a reply to that.
Someone is coming who might be able to help me understand. Her name is Dinah Harris.
So I guess the truth is that I've agreed to do these interviews with an ulterior motive. I want to question her as much as she wants to question me. I want what she's got — compassion, peace, and understanding so powerful that they have somehow defeated despair, bitterness, and judgment.
How did she do it?
He drove the van carefully. The cargo in the back was heavy and although not unstable, he didn't want the barrels to fall over. He also drove carefully to ensure a passing cop wouldn't pay him any attention.
He wore high-visibility work clothes, so that he looked like he had work to do wherever he stopped.
With his heart making a staccato rhythm in his throat, he waited for someone to yell at him or stop him. At the end of the street, pretending to have a conversation on his cell, he turned around and scoped out the surroundings. All the visible pedestrians were too busy to take notice of the van and hurried by without a backward glance. He then looked at the buildings around the church, where somebody looking out of a window might have seen him and wondered what he was doing.
Everything had gone according to plan.
At seven o'clock precisely, evening mass began at Our Lady of Mercy Catholic Church. At 7:14 the bomber, seated at a bench overlooking the street pretended to take another cell phone call. Except this time, he pressed the "receive" button.
The explosion could be seen before the loud rumble reached his ears and the seat beneath him shook a little. A smoky orange ball rose above the rooftops and the bomber had to suppress a smile at its beauty.
"What happened?" he asked a young lady standing nearby. "Do you know what happened?"
"Something's been blown up," she said, her voice high-pitched. "People are saying a church has been blown up!"
"What?" he said, faking incredulity. "Who would do such a thing?"
"Terrorists," she said, gravely.
He shook his head as if he couldn't believe his ears.
As he'd known it would, his bomb shut down the city. By morning, the news would be able to paint a clearer picture. Two people were dead, 35 were injured. The church looked like a listing, stricken warship, one entire wall missing and the roof leaning precariously to one side. A burning, acidic odor wafted pungently over the bomb site.
Everyone in the city whispered to themselves and each other. Mostly, they wondered: who did this and why?
Download your exclusive first look at chapter 1 of this exciting story at juliecave.com.
About the Author
Julie Cave
Julie has loved books all her life and began writing at the age of 12. At the age of 15, she heard a creation science speaker at her church which ignited her interest in creation science and sparked an enthusiasm for defending the Bible's account of creation. It wasn't until she was in her mid-twenties, after re-dedicating her life to Jesus, that she began thinking about combining the two as a Christian ministry. In the meantime, she obtained a university degree in health science, worked in banking and finance for ten years, and is currently completing a university degree in law. Julie is married with one daughter and lives on the east coast of Australia. Her interests include reading, writing, and spending time at the beach.
Keep track of Julie's latest writing projects through:
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her tweets on twitter.com/julieacave