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And Elsbeth? Did she realize her husband was mad? Maybe she didn’t want to admit it, but she had to know, just as she had to be involved in all the efforts to get hold of Sam.

“My boy isn’t expected to live,” Miles said, his voice filled with rage. “Because of you, you fanatic bastard, my boy is probably going to die. Do you understand that, you moron? A six-year-old boy is going to die because of you! No one else, just you.”

He walked toward Reverend McCamy, one step at a time, staring into those mad eyes of his until he had him backed up against the wall. He put his face right into his, grabbed his robe lapels, and shook him. He screamed in his face, “And you call yourself a man of God?” Miles yanked him close again, shaking him so hard his head lolled on his neck.

Reverend McCamy tried to pull Miles’s hands away, but he couldn’t. He yelled, “You fool, you conceited buffoon! Sam doesn’t belong to you!

Miles felt the man’s spittle on his cheek. He pressed closer and yelled back, “He sure in hell doesn’t belong to you!”

Reverend McCamy was shaking his head wildly, back and forth. “No! He belongs to God! And God won’t let him die, he won’t! I must go to the hospital, don’t you understand? I must go. I’m the only one who can save him!”

Katie said, “Why won’t God let him die, Reverend McCamy?”

Elsbeth said, “No, Reverend McCamy, don’t let them fluster you.”

Reverend McCamy slipped out of Miles’s grasp and dashed past him. Miles let him go. He watched him stumble over a Victorian umbrella stand, sending it crashing onto its side and splitting it open. Two umbrellas rolled out. Reverend McCamy took off running down the long hallway.

Elsbeth stood there in her sexy pink robe, staring after her husband. Katie and Miles ignored her, and turned to run after Reverend McCamy. He tried to slam the library door in their faces, but Miles shoved it back against him. He retreated back across the room where he did his couples counseling. There were three sofa pillows on the carpet. Why, for heaven’s sake?

As they closed in, he fetched up against the book-shelved wall, his hands out to ward them off.

Miles stopped in front of the desk, leaned forward and splayed his fingers on the desktop. “We want you to talk to us, Reverend McCamy. We want you to tell us why my son belongs to God.”

“No!” Elsbeth shouted. “Leave him alone, do you hear me? Go away!” She turned on Katie, and smashed her fist into her jaw. Katie, focused on Miles and Reverend McCamy, lurched to the side, nearly falling. She saw stars, but felt more surprise than pain. Katie grabbed Elsbeth’s arm, jerked her close, and pulled both her arms behind her. She pulled her against her, leaned over, and whispered in her ear through all that beautiful tangled blond hair, “Just hold still, Elsbeth. Assaulting a police officer isn’t going to help the Reverend. We’re not going to hurt him.”

“No, you can’t make me-” She moaned as Katie tightened her hold. Her pink silk robe came open.

“Woman, do not show your body to these sinners!”

“We’re not looking at her body,” Miles said, his attention never wavering from Reverend McCamy. “I’m waiting, Reverend McCamy. Why does Sam belong to God?”

Reverend McCamy’s mouth was a thin pale line. Suddenly, he shouted at them, “You’re not worthy, you godless cretin! Why God gave such a son to you is beyond me. But His ways are not always clear to those who worship Him. It is not our right to question Him, for we are nothing compared to Him. The Lord showed me that I must take Samuel, to teach him to understand that he is one of God’s favored ones. You don’t understand, do you? Sam is an ecstatic! He must learn to accept the sublime suffering he once showed as a small child. He will learn to accept it again. He will throw himself into the well of God’s mercy and greet this suffering with great happiness because he was chosen by God.”

Reverend McCamy walked around the desk until he came right up into Miles’s face. “Don’t you understand, you fool? Sam is a victim of love-God’s love. He has shown the stigmata! He will experience sublime suffering for all mankind, and his suffering will be radiant in its ecstasy. His very soul will know the beauty and sacrifice of our Lord!”

Miles felt as though he’d fallen down Alice’s rabbit hole. He plowed his way through all the mad words. He stood back from Reverend McCamy, studying him. “What are you talking about? What nonsense is this? So you think Sam has shown the stigmata? Is that what this is all about? There is no such thing, you fool!”

Suddenly, Elsbeth stiffened and jerked free of Katie. She ran right at Miles, her fists swinging, screaming, “Leave him alone! Reverend McCamy, they don’t understand. They never will. Say no more. Make them leave. They don’t belong here. Make them leave!”

“She’s right, you’ll never understand,” Reverend McCamy said, coming around the desk to his wife, reaching out his hands, for what reason, neither Miles nor Katie knew. Then he slammed both fists onto the desktop. “Sam-it is not his name! His name is Samuel, his biblical name. He can’t die! Save the boy, oh Lord, he is part of You, he is Your beloved victim. You must save him!”

Reverend McCamy was shaking so hard that he appeared to be having a seizure. Tears streamed down his face. “Elsbeth is right. Get out, both of you!”

A man’s voice came from the doorway. “I can’t let you do this to him, Sheriff, I just can’t. Back away from Reverend McCamy.”

Reverend McCamy screamed, “Are you crazy? What are you doing here, Thomas? Get out!”

Katie turned slowly around to see Tom Boone, a local postman for twenty years, standing just inside the library door holding a rifle on her. She smiled. “Well, I think there walks my proof on the hoof. Is there anyone else getting ready to come through that door? Or was it just you, Mr. Boone?”

“It was just me, Sheriff, and I’m enough to deal with you. I’m sorry, Reverend McCamy, but she’s got a gun, you know. It’s right there in her belt holster. I didn’t want her to hurt you. You, Mr. Kettering, you get away from Reverend McCamy!”

Miles stepped away.

Katie remembered seeing Mr. Boone on Sunday, at the Sinful Children of God. She said, “Do you believe in this madman enough to try to kill me and Keely and Mr. Kettering to get to Sam?”

“I didn’t try to kill nobody.”

“Just be quiet, Thomas. Go away from here.”

“No, Reverend, not just yet. I’ve got to tell her how it really was, that I wasn’t there to hurt anyone, then she’ll leave you alone. I did what I had to do, Sheriff, what the Reverend and God commanded me to do.”

“What are you talking about, Mr. Boone? God doesn’t have anything to do with this. It was this madman who gave you your marching orders. It was this madman who ordered you to take Sam. Didn’t you hear what happened to the other two men he sent to get Sam?”

“I heard, Sheriff. You killed both of them. You, a woman, killed two men. You’re an abomination.”

Katie could only stare at him and shake her head. “And just look at what you did. You threw gas bombs into my kitchen and fired at me in my truck. Then you stayed around and tried to kill me again. What were you thinking?”

Mr. Boone, asthmatic all his life, panted hard now because he was scared. The drizzling rain and cold air had gone into his chest, he could feel it, choking off his air. He looked at the man who had helped him before, the saintly man who’d laid his hands on his chest and prayed and had eased his breathing. Thomas had known it was a miracle. He looked over at Reverend McCamy.

“It was God’s orders as well,” Reverend McCamy shouted. “I promised that you would be rewarded, Thomas. I promised that I would heal your asthma forever, but only if you finished what you started.”

Katie asked, “What else did the Reverend here offer you as a reward, Mr. Boone?”