The Devil's Touch

'Very good. I think you shall find the events of this evening most interesting and pleasant. We will have a task for you later on.'

'Tonight?'

'That, too. But that is not the task I speak of.'

'Then what?'

'The young woman of your dreams. The one occupying your mind while you practiced self-abuse in the darkness of your bedroom.'

Tired as he was, Jon's heart quickened at the thought. 'Nydia?'

'None other.'

'Will you answer a question for me?'

'Possibly.'

'Are you Satan?'

'Possibly. The Master is always close—one form or another—to those who choose to serve him.'

'The Master!'

'Of course, young man. I am now your Master. We made a deal. You said you would return a favor for a favor. My side of the bargain has been—' The voice giggled. '—Consummated. Now it is your turn.'

Jon did not give it much thought. He didn't care. 'All right,' he said.

'Ta-ta, Jon,' the voice cheerfully replied, then faded away.

'If you know so much,' a badly shaken Chief Draper spoke to Nydia. 'If you can read minds and—whatever else it is you do, how come you didn't see all this— whatever is happening—and warn people about it?'

'Because I was blocked out. Because Satan knows I renounced his dark faith and became a Christian. Satan rules the earth, Chief, God the Heavens. But my mother was, remember, a witch, and some of her powers did show up in me.'

'Lordy,' Joe said.

Monty shook his head in confusion and disbelief.

Sam answered the knock on the front door. Janet stepped in, smiling as usual. 'I'm a little early,' she said. 'But I knew you wouldn't mind.' She spoke politely to Father Le Moyne, Chief Draper, and Joe. 'Is something the matter?' She looked at Sam.

'Nothing we can't handle, Janet,' Sam said, returning the smile.

All could see the afternoon had melted into dusk, with the sky overcast, already dripping moisture and sculpturing hollow pockets of gloom around the land.

'Do you want me to leave, Sam? I get the feeling I'm interrupting some grown-up talk.'

'No, you stay, Janet. Nydia and I won't be going to the movies this evening.' He glanced at Monty. 'We usually drive over to Blaine for dinner and a movie on Saturday evenings,' he explained. He swung his eyes to Janet. 'But there is some community business we're—involved in. And we might be late. Your parents won't object if you stay over?'

'Oh, no. I'll just call and tell them.' She hefted a large purse. 'You know I always bring a change with me, just in case you want me to spend the night.'

Her eyes were bright and clear and full of innocence, despite the rape she had endured as a child kidnapped and brought to Falcon House in Canada. The teenager had been rescued by Sam and returned to her parents. Rescued, so Sam and Nydia were led to believe. Janet had been Little Sam's babysitter since his moment of birth.

Janet had plans for Little Sam.

Monty, Joe, and Father Le Moyne rose as if on silent cue. Monty said, 'Well—Sam, Nydia, we'll see the both of you at the house in about an hour. We'll continue this—discussion there. You'll stay for dinner, of course.' The men moved toward the door and the approaching night.

Outside, the door closed behind them, Joe looked toward the old orchard. 'Can you imagine eating on that goddamn thing out there?' He looked at Father Le Moyne. ''Cuse me, Father.'

'I couldn't have put it more aptly myself,' the priest said, taking no offense. 'Gentlemen, I have mass to attend to. I'll see you both around eight-thirty.' He walked to his car, backed around the police car, and disappeared into the night.

'Monty?' Joe said.

'Yeah?'

'I'm scared and confused.'

'Join the club, Joe.'

'How come you didn't level with Sheriff Jenkins this morning?'

'I—don't know, Joe.' But he did know.

'You think he's one of—them?'

'I don't know. Maybe. Yeah,' Monty said, his voice containing resignation. 'Yeah, I do.'