The kitchen was cleaner but didn’t smell any better. The trash overflowed with pizza boxes and teriyaki take- out cartons. There were three kitty-litter trays in the corner.
The sapphire dog wasn’t in there, either. The back door was locked and the basement door had a discolored circle at the bottom.
I twisted the knob and jiggled the door. The discolored circle collapsed into a billowing cloud of dust. The sapphire dog must have entered the basement and come up through there. I went back into the living room and found a flight of stairs leading to the second floor. I started up, avoiding stacks of cheap paperbacks by the rail.
I heard something slide upstairs and called Aaron’s name. Again, no answer. Footsteps sounded above me.
I rushed to the top of the stairs. There were three doors up there, and one was partly open. That was the bathroom, and it was dark. I went through the door on the left.
It was the master bedroom. There were clothes all over the floor. Below the window was a double bed with piles of dirty laundry on one side. Three big cats stared at me from under a clothes bureau.
Damn. The pastor didn’t have a family in this house. He had run toward a predator because of his damn cats.
I raced into the hall, then into the other room. It was storage, with banker’s boxes stacked against the walls.
The window was open. I rushed to it. The pastor had climbed down the porch roof and was already on the lawn. He opened the door to his truck, and something low and blue slithered into the passenger seat.
I reached for the gun in my pocket, but it snagged on my jacket and clattered to the floor. I cursed at myself as I picked it up. It was only a second’s delay, but it was long enough for Aaron to get into the driver’s seat.
I looked down at him. He looked up at me. Just before he closed the door of his truck, I saw by the cab light that he had a single white dot on his forehead.
He started the truck and began to back away. I put two bullets into the grille, then two more into the front driver’s corner, where the battery should be. Aaron slammed the truck into reverse and did a one-point U-turn onto the church parking lot. I emptied the gun at his tires, but I’ve never been what you’d call a crack shot. I was pretty sure I’d missed the battery, too.
The truck labored onto the street. I ran through the house and out the porch door. The pastor’s taillights turned onto the road toward town. At least he’d left the fairgrounds. I sprinted across the grass and parking lot. I was never going to catch them on foot, but I hoped the truck would break down before the sapphire dog could reach another victim.
I ran out into the road and jogged after them, but the truck was already out of sight. Headlights appeared behind me and I stepped onto the shoulder of the road. An ambulance screamed by, with Steve Cardinal’s car close behind. I waved to him, and he stomped on the brake, screeching to a halt.
Justy was in the passenger seat. She rolled down the window, but it was Steve who spoke. “What in heaven’s name have you been doing?”
“I saw it! It just caught a guy in a blue pickup.”
“My God. Who?”
“Aaron. The pastor. I don’t know his whole name. I damaged his truck. We need to catch him before he finds another ride.”
“Well, get in then.”
I pulled the back door open and climbed in. He stomped on the gas before I could get fully into his car. I yanked my foot inside just as the car’s momentum slammed the door shut. I fussed with the seat belt. Steve was talking. “Reverend Dolan’s a good man. He’s forthright and strong in his faith. He grew up here. When he was a boy—”
“Don’t write his eulogy yet.” I didn’t say that the pastor wasn’t important. It was the sapphire dog that mattered.
“It’s not a eulogy. He’s a strong man. Maybe he’ll resist it.” Steve was quiet for a couple of seconds, then said: “I’ve been to the estate.”
“What?”
“I’ve been to the Wilbur estate. No one was there. Everything was locked up and dark, but I found where they’ve been holding it all these years. I found the plastic cage with all the lights. Was it the plastic that kept it trapped?”
“No,” I said. “It can go through plastic.”
“The lights, then. It was the lights that held it all this time?”
“Maybe. There are a couple of things you need to know about, though: there’s a girl named Shannon at the Conner house. She’s all alone there.” Justy took out her phone and began typing out a text message. “The adults are all dead or … damaged like Penny. And I saw Regina Wilbur in town. She had a shotgun. You might want to —”
“There!” Justy suddenly shouted. “I saw brake lights.” She pointed toward a gravel turnoff on the right.
Steve slammed on the brakes. “Are you sure?”
“Positive.”
Steve backed up and turned onto the path. “Where does this lead?” I asked.
“Back to the fairgrounds.”
The road curved to the right, then led downhill to connect with the fairgrounds parking lot at the opposite side from the church. Justy finished her text message without glancing down at her phone.
