to join his great cause, to use her talent, as he used his, in the service of the Lord.
He deeply regretted that his psychic abilities were so limited. He knew God had meant for his powers to be greater, but his stupid parents had stifled the natural growth of his powers. If only Jeannie Alverson had joined him, there would have been no limit to the heights he could have reached. Together, they could have been the most powerful force for good in the world.
But Jeannie had shown her true colors. She dared not use her powers in the Lord's service, when her real master was the devil. The woman was a witch, not a saint, as he had hoped. She and her guardian, Dundee, would annihilate him if they could. Satan had given her enormous power, power far greater than those Maynard himself had been blessed with. He had no choice but to destroy her, before she destroyed him.
'May I help you, Father?' the nurse asked.
'Yes, my child. I've come to see Julian Howell.' Reeves stood tall and straight in his priest's disguise, one he knew might gain him an audience with Dr. Howell.
'Are you his priest?'
'My parish is near New Orleans,' Reeves lied. 'I'm a family friend who has been called in for special prayers.'
'Dr. Howell's daughter hasn't arrived yet,' the nurse said. 'And Ms. McCorkle has gone to make a few phone calls. I really need the family's permission before I allow you to visit Dr. Howell.'
'My dear child, I am here at the family's request.' He lifted the white Bible he held in his hand. 'They know I will be a comfort to Julian.'
'Well, I don't suppose there would be anything wrong with letting you come in for a few minutes.'
Maynard flashed her his most charming smile, the smile he had used often to persuade ladies to donate large sums of money to the Righteous Light Church. 'I need only a few minutes.'
Maynard found Julian Howell resting comfortably, his every bodily function monitored. The young nurse stayed with him, still a bit uneasy about allowing someone other than immediate family to visit an ICU patient.
Placing his hand over Julian's, Maynard closed his eyes and began mumbling something he hoped would sound like a prayer. He lowered his voice, allowing it to drift off into silence. Closing his eyes, he concentrated on Julian. Hazy, sleepy, surreal thoughts and images clouded Julian's mind. Maynard probed deeper.
Visions of blue sky and water formed in Maynard's mind, then an island, lush and green, a big raised French cottage resting high on a hill.
Dundee had taken her to an island. But where?
When Maynard tried to delve deeper into Julian's subconscious mind, he realized Jeannie's foster father was fighting him, trying to keep him out before he acquired the much-needed information.
Julian thrashed about in the bed. The nurse rushed to his side. 'I'm afraid you'll have to leave. Something's wrong. Dr. Howell is becoming quite agitated.'
Maynard forced his way past the barrier in Julian's mind. Le Bijou Bleu. The distance from Biloxi and the location of the island flashed through Julian's thoughts, and then his mind closed.
'Father, please leave,' the nurse repeated her request.
Opening his eyes, Maynard smiled. 'Yes, of course. I'll return later, when he's awake and calm.'
When Maynard opened the door to exit the ICU unit, Lieutenant Painter met him. How had that idiot found him? He'd been certain he'd ditched the policeman following him.
'Changed religious affiliations, Reverend Reeves?' Painter asked. 'Or should I call you Father Reeves now?
'Reverend Reeves will do. What are you doing here, Lieutenant?'
'I was about to ask you the same question.'
'Visiting the sick, of course.'
'I'm sure I could hold you in jail overnight, Reverend. Impersonating a priest might not stick in court, but I could drum up some other charges to go with it so we could haul your butt in for questioning.'
'The clothing I choose to wear in my role as a minster of the gospel is my business, and the fact that a young nurse mistook me for a priest is not my fault.' Maynard wasn't afraid of the police. He had outsmarted them time and again. No, he didn't have anything to fear from the likes of Rufus Painter.
'What the hell is he doing here?' A deep voice roared from the doorway leading into the waiting room.
Maynard jerked around, his eyes widening with surprise. Sam Dundee. And, at his side, Jeannie Alverson. Maynard smiled. So, he would not have to go in search of the witch after all. She had returned. No doubt to cast a spell to cure her foster father.
Jeannie clung to her protector's arm. She was so sure he could guard her from the inevitable. Well, she was wrong. Sam Dundee was indeed a formidable opponent, but all Maynard needed was a little time to figure out how to bring the big man down.
'I thought y'all were watching him,' Jeannie said. 'How did he get in here to see Julian?'
'He's leaving right now,' Painter said. 'I'm driving him to the station, where he can call his lawyer before answering a few questions for us.'
'This is all a waste of time,' Maynard told them. 'You cannot condemn an innocent man. And you have no evidence that I've committed any crime.'
'Lieutenant, would you mind going with Jeannie to see Dr. Howell?' Sam asked. 'Reeves is right. Taking him in would be a waste of time. Yours and his.'
'How wise of you to understand,' Maynard said.
'Please, Lieutenant, go with Jeannie. She's anxious to see her father.'
'Sam?' Jeannie said, questioning his intentions.
'Go on. See about Julian.'
Lieutenant Painter escorted a reluctant Jeannie into the private ICU cubicle, leaving Maynard alone in the waiting area with Sam.
'Watch her day and night, Dundee.' Maynard laughed, the sound robust and confident. 'You know not time hour or the day I will strike.'
Sam grabbed Maynard by the neck, dragging his face up to his. My God, what did the man intend to do? Kill him on the spot? Maynard lifted his trembling hands, desperately trying to dislodge himself from Dundee's choking hold. Maynard gasped, then struggled for air when Sam tightened the pressure on his windpipe.
'Know this, Reeves—if any harm comes to Jeannie, you will die. And a soul as black as yours will surely rot in hell forever.'
« ^ »
Jeannie sat at Julian's bedside, his hand clasped in hers. She had stayed with him since her return to Biloxi, thirty-six hours earlier. Sam had done everything short of knocking her out and throwing her over his shoulder to get her to leave for a short rest, but she had refused. The doctors had told them Julian was out of any immediate danger, but with a heart-attack victim, nothing could be certain.
Jeannie had been given special permission to stay with Julian in ICU, but Sam had been banished to the waiting area, except for regularly scheduled visits. The past thirty-six hours had been an exercise in torture for him. Keeping guard at a distance was not Sam's style of protection.
The ICU door opened and Jeannie walked out, a wide smile on her face. 'They're moving Julian to a private room. He's improving quickly. The doctors are astonished.'
Sam dropped the newspaper he'd been scanning, stood and walked over to Jeannie. 'They don't realize Julian's had a little extra help in his recovery.' He slipped his arm around her.
'Julian loves roses. While they're moving him, I want to order some flowers for him. Two or three dozen roses. And you can run by the house … no, not by the house, by the cottage, and pick up some pajamas and a robe for Julian, and—'
Sam kissed her into silence, then released her quickly. 'I'm not going anywhere. Call Ollie and have her bring over Julian's things.'
'Julian gave Ollie a much-needed vacation to visit her sister in Tupelo, while the repairs are being done on our
