Hallowed Bones by Carolyn Haines Page A

That isn't the case. I was working with these men and making progress. In order to love, you first have to believe that you can be loved. Some men--and some women, too, but it's more often men--have never experienced the true intimacy of love. Sex is an access to intimacy. If I reveal the names of these men to the police, I'll break the fragile bond of trust that I've been able to establish. I may do more damage than you can ever imagine."
    I sighed. "Give me the list. I'll investigate them."
    "And you won't share the names with the police?"
    "Not at this time. Not unless there's some indication that one of the men is involved in murdering your child."
    She nodded. "Thaddeus Clay."
    I didn't even start to write. I looked at her. "Senator Thaddeus Clay? United States Senator Thaddeus Clay?"
    "Yes. He lives in
New Orleans
."
    I wasn't a maven of current events, but even I had heard of Thaddeus Clay, the head of the Senate Environmental Committee as well as cochair of Ways and Means. He was serving his fourth term. He was also married to a former
New York
model, Ellisea Boudet, known throughout the fashion world as El.
    "I was also sleeping with Michael Anderson. He's in charge of the financial aspects of my ministry," Doreen said. "And Oren Weaver."
    Once again the name stopped me. "The televangelist?"
    She nodded.
    Oren Weaver hailed from my neck of the woods. He'd come up hardscrabble, poor as dirt, but with a powerful ability to orate.
    "Oren could be a great healer," Doreen said. "He hums with energy. Literally. But with all of this talent, he lacks the ability to love."
    "He loves money," I pointed out. He'd been the subject of several television newsmagazine investigations. He'd made millions with his television ministry, rooking those desperate for healing and faith into sending in donations, promising that fifty-dollar prayer handkerchiefs could heal. Of course, when the prayer cloths didn't work, it was always because the buyer lacked faith.
    "Yes, Oren loves money. But he has the capacity to truly love. And if that is ever unleashed in him, he could help thousands of people."
    "And what is the senator's gift?" I asked. I could clearly see what an advantage it would be for Doreen to align herself with two such powerful men.
    "If he were truly to love himself," she said softly, "it would influence our government, the policies that are made. He would look at the world, our natural world, as a place to cherish rather than rape."
    "And Michael Anderson? What does he offer?"
    "Michael offers hope. Beneath his mild manners, he's the angriest man I've ever met. He doesn't believe in love at all. He isn't a powerful or public man, but that isn't important. I don't select the men I help, the gods, or God if you prefer--it doesn't really matter what you call the Divine--put them in my path. I only know that given time, I can reach Michael. I can make a difference for him, and there is no telling the impact of one man who believes in the power of love."
    I hadn't committed a single name to my notepad. I didn't need to write a list. The names were branded into my brain. "Is there anyone else?"
    She smiled with a hint of a secret. "Not at this time. And you promised that you wouldn't reveal these names to the police, remember. "
    "At this time, I don't see a need. You're positive none of these men believed he was the father?" I could see motive a mile high with the senator and the minister. Both men would lose a lot if it became public knowledge they'd fathered a child by a woman who professed to use sex as a therapeutic tool. I'd have to dig a little deeper into Michael Anderson to find a motive for him, but I hadn't forgotten that he held the purse strings to Doreen's ministry. Baby Rebekah could certainly be bad for the faith-healing business if some of Doreen's followers ever began to ask why Doreen didn't heal her own child.
    "Each of the men knew I had other... patients. That's an improper word, but the best one I can come