'Father Le Moyne?' Sam asked when the door opened.
'Yes,' the priest said.
'I'm Sam Balon. This is my wife, Nydia. May we come in? I'd—we'd like very much to talk with you.'
The priest looked at the young couple. Good-looking young man, very beautiful young woman. He looked at them for a long moment. The moment he had dreaded had arrived. Thank God in human form. Father Le Moyne longed desperately to close the door to his small living quarters. Wanted to shut out the young couple. But he knew he could not do that.
'You're here to tell me the Devil is in Logandale.' It was not a question.
'Yes, sir,' Sam replied. 'I've fought him before, just as my Dad did back in '58. We both beat him—in a manner of speaking—and I feel I can do it again.'
Father Le Moyne's knees felt weak; made of rubber. He did not know if they would support his weight. He leaned against the door jamb for a few seconds. With a deep sigh, and an inner plea for forgiveness from the Lord for his doubts, Father Le Moyne straightened up and reluctantly waved the young couple inside.
When they were seated, Le Moyne said, 'Have you heard about the poor Fowler girl?'
Sam and Nydia said they had not.
Le Moyne told them.
'I'm surprised the Beasts didn't eat her,' Sam said. 'Unless they have other plans for her.'
Le Moyne could detect no fear or surprise in the young man's reply.
'The Beasts? Other plans?'
Sam leaned forward, Nydia holding onto his hand. 'Father Le Moyne, I'm going to tell you a story that you are going to find very hard to believe.'
'No,' the priest said with an almost painful sigh. 'I've known the Dark One was near; knew the time would come when I would have to face him.'
'That time is here, Father,' Nydia said. The priest closed his eyes. 'Tell me your story, Mr. Balon.'
'There's a hole in the ground over here,' Joe called. 'All covered over with brush. And God, does it stink.'
Monty walked across the orchard to stand by Joe. His nose wrinkled at the foul odor coming from the hole in the earth. 'Jesus H. Christ! What would cause a smell like that?'
'I ain't never smelled anything like that, Chief. And I worked in the mines down in Kentucky as a kid, 'fore my daddy moved us all up here. I thought I'd done smelled everything God could possibly put in the ground, but nothing like this here.'
'I thought you were a native, Joe,' Monty said with a smile.
'Sure you did. 'Way I talk? I think like a native, but I ain't. I was fifteen when my dad brung us up here. I've lived here forty years.'
The men looked down into the dark hole. A glint of something metallic caught Monty's eyes. It gleamed from just inside the yawning hole. With Joe holding on to his ankles to keep him from tumbling into the darkness, Monty retrieved the piece of jewelry. An earring.
'You reckon that's Miss Mayberry's?' Joe asked.
'I'd bet on it. And I'd also bet the neighbors aren't going to tell us a thing.'
'You and me both, Chief. Don't turn around, but there's a face at damn near every window back of us. We're being watched real close.'
'What the hell is going on in this town, Joe?'
'I don't know, Chief. But I get the feeling it's—don't laugh at me, now—evil.'
'That's as good a word as any, Joe. Did Miss Mayberry socialize much?'
Joe smiled. 'I wouldn't want to say she was gettin' any on a regular basis, but she's been seein' that ol' boy owns the hardware store. Will Gibson.'
'Let's go pay Mr. Gibson a visit.'
'I'm ridin' with you, Chief.'
The paramedics were found sitting in their ambulance, halfway between Logandale and Blaine. The body of Marie Fowler was not in the ambulance. Since the highway cop who found the ambulance and the dead men knew nothing of their mission, he did not find it odd no one was in the rear of the ambulance. He had looked, but the stretcher did not appear mussed. The paramedics' logbook was missing, so the highway cop could not check that. He did not call in to Clark County because the men were taking a short cut and were in McGray County when whatever happened to them occurred. It was an independently owned ambulance service, so the hospital at Blaine would know nothing of Marie Fowler.
But what did appear odd to the highway patrolman was the condition of the men. There was not a mark on either of them that he could see. But they were so pale-looking. It looked as though there was not a drop of blood left in either man. But there was no blood anywhere in or around the ambulance.
The highway cop stood looking at the men, a perplexed look on his face. He radioed the McGray County Sheriffs Department. They notified the coroner. But he and his small staff were up to their elbows doing an autopsy on an entire family that had been found dead in their van, parked on the edge of the park. The M.E. felt sure they had all died of carbon monoxide poisoning, but he still had to open them all up. And to complicate matters further, a lot of drugs had been discovered in the van. Of the recreational variety rather than medical type.
'Stick them in the cooler,' the M.E. told his assistant. 'We'll get to them Monday or Tuesday. Damn this Saturday work.'
