"Margie!" Susan said, looking up. She took in her friend's wild eyes, her flushed face and tear-streaked cheeks. She quickly opened the door and pulled Margie in.

"Good G.o.d, Margie! What's happened?"

"Susan, you're not ... going to believe this. But I swear to you it's the truth. I swear it."

"Look, you go wash your face and try to calm down. I'll pour us coffee. We'll talk in the den." She gave her friend a gentle push toward the bathroom. "Go on, Margie. Then we'll talk."

"You young fool!" Father Javotte said to Don. "Not everything one encounters in this world can be easily explained away. Not all is black and white. Now sit down and be silent!"

Sonny Pa.s.son sat and stared in shock at the priest. He'd never seen Father Daniel Javotte behave in such a manner. He'd never seen any any priest behave like this. priest behave like this.

Don sat down, a look of astonishment on his face.

Javotte swung his eyes back to Sam. "Sam, I can believe what you said. I have no problem with it. But others? ..." He let that drift off into silence.

"I know, Padre. I'm sure my dad had the same problems almost thirty years ago."

"The devil?" Sonny whispered. "Here? In Becancour?"

"You hit me, Father," Don said. "You hit me!"

"I got your attention, didn't I?" Javotte asked.

"d.a.m.n sure did," the deputy agreed.

"Now, listen to me, all of you," Sam said. The men looked at him. "I can tell you all almost exactly what has been happening in this town. I've seen it before. Drinking is up; incidents of depression are up; family violence is up; the young people have become sullen; s.e.xual promiscuity is up ... and people are behaving strangely. Right?"

Don looked at Sam, new interest in his eyes. The side of his face was still red where Father Javotte had popped him. "All right," the deputy said. "I'll give you that much. Yeah; You're right."

"Satan is insidious," Sam said. "The Dark One moves slowly in his conquests. There is no need for him to rush matters. You see, the Prince of Darkness knows that he rules the earth."

"Let's a.s.sume that I accept all-or even a part-of what you've told me," Sonny said. "I mean ... well, what's the next move?"

"Waiting," Sam said. He smiled grimly. "You see, Satan knows that Christians are virtually helpless, powerless to do anything-legally-concerning the situation. Drinking and partying and rejecting Christ and engaging in s.e.xual activities ... none of those things are against the law. And neither is forming a coven, providing no human or animal sacrifices take place."

"Animal mutilations," Don muttered, recalling the sheep and cattle he'd found in this part of the parish.

"That would be part of it," Sam said. "Was there any blood left in the animals?"

Don shook his head. "I didn't check, Sam. But there were strange carvings cut into the flesh of the animals."

"Stars, moons, stick-men?"

"Yeah. And that means ... what to you?"

"That the coven is firmly established in Becancour."

"What the h.e.l.l is a coven?" Sonny asked. "What do people do at these ... covens?"

"All depends," Sam said, looking not at Sonny but at Father Javotte. "Call out evil spirits. Worship Satan. And call for the Undead to rise and once more walk the earth."

"The Undead?" Undead?" Sonny blurted. "You mean like in the movies and books and c.r.a.p like that?" Sonny blurted. "You mean like in the movies and books and c.r.a.p like that?"

"Yes."

"Rita told me that she's had to run kids out of the graveyard several times," Don said, looking at Chief Pa.s.son.

"Yeah. There's been some vandalism in there, all right." Sonny rose, almost knocking over his chair doing so. "Look, people. I got to go for a drive. I got to clear my head. I got to think about all this ... stuff ya'll been telling me." He paused. "Wait a minute. We're forgetting why we gathered here this morning. How about Jackson Dorgenois?"

"How about the Dorgenois family as a whole?" Sam asked.

"What about them?" Don asked.

"Their history. When they came here ... and more importantly ... why?"

Sonny shrugged. "I never was much of a student of history, Sam Balon. So I can't tell you the why of their coming here. But ... there have been rumors about them over the years."

"What kind of rumors?"

"Rumors that the Dorgenoises are in league with the devil," Father Javotte said. "I don't believe it and never have. Not about R. M. and Romy. Talk was stronger about Jackson, though. But I don't know. I was not here when Jackson did ... what Dr. Livaudais wrote he did."

"Who was the priest then?"

"Twenty years ago? Well ... that would have beer Father Landry. But he's dead. After him ... Father Ramagos. Father Landry was ill when Father Ramagos came. I'm told the two men became good friends before Father Landry died."

"What did Landry die of?" Sam asked.

The priest shrugged. "Why ... I don't know. Father Ramagos didn't say and I never thought to ask."

n.o.body seemed to notice when Sonny Pa9son slipped quietly out the front door and was gone into the already hot morning.

The phone rang. Don jerked it up, glad to have something else on his mind besides all that hocus-pocus Sam Balon had been spewing. "Yeah? No. No, I haven't seen him this morning." He hung up and looked at Sam and Father Javotte. "The clinic. Looking for Tony."

"You've got to get hold of yourself, Margie," Tony told the woman.

Susan had called him after listening to less than one minute of Margie's story. Susan was afraid her friend was cracking up, emotionally.

Margie took several deep breaths. When she spoke, her voice was deadly flat. "I have told you both exactly what happened last night ... early this morning, excuse me. I am not crazy." She cut her eyes to Susan. "I've told you for years that at times Dave's behavior is, well, suspect, at best. But he's never raised a hand to me-and still hasn't-don't get me wrong. But Dave needs help. And I mean, he needs it ... right now!" right now!"

"Let me sound him out, Margie," Tony said. But he was thinking: Cats! They're popping up just too many times to be just mere coincidence.

"You wanna go wade through my backyard, Tony?" Margie asked him. "It's full of cat s.h.i.t."

"I don't doubt you, Margie." And then Tony was mildly astonished to hear the words pushing out of his mouth. "I don't doubt any of your story."

Susan looked at the doctor, her boss, strangely. "I'm going to be at Margie's house when Dave comes home for lunch. I'll do some checking of my own, Dr. Livaudais."

"Fine, Susan," Tony said, almost absently. He checked his wrist.w.a.tch. "I got to go. I'm due at a meeting ten minutes ago."

He walked out the front door.

"Now, what's wrong with him?" Susan questioned.

"What's wrong with a lot of people, Susan?" Margie asked.

"What do you mean?"

"I was shopping yesterday down at Antini's. Mrs. Carmon pa.s.sed me in one aisle. Margie, she smelled bad. She was ... grimy. grimy. And she's always been one of the most fastidious people in town. Over in the next aisle, I saw that Bob ... what's-his-name? ... runs the garage? ... And she's always been one of the most fastidious people in town. Over in the next aisle, I saw that Bob ... what's-his-name? ... runs the garage? ...

"Gannon."

"Yes. Him. He was ... well, fondling Alma Clayton. Brazenly. Henry would kill him, and maybe her, too, if he found that out. But they behaved as if they didn't care. Then ... that got me to thinking about some things I've seen over the past couple of weeks. People are behaving ... oddly, Susan. And I can't think of exactly how to describe it."

Susan sat down beside her friend on the couch. She was thoughtful for a moment. "You know, you're right, Margie. You're right. I just haven't paid any attention to it. But people are behaving ... well, you said it, oddly." oddly."

The thing that was getting to Sonny was that Don was the one who brought up all this devil worship c.r.a.p in the first place. Now he acts like he's never heard of it before.

Sonny cut the wheel to avoid hitting a kid on a motorcycle. Stopping, Sonny backed up to where the kid had pulled over. Fred Johnson.

"Fred." Sonny stuck his head out the window of his patrol car. "You better start watching where you're going, boy."

"Yeah, yeah, fine," the boy said.

Sonny looked at him. "Don't yeah-yeah-fine me, boy. I'll hang a ticket on your smart mouth before you can blink, you don't watch that lip."

Fred laughed at him. He toed his bike into gear and roared off.

Sonny sat with his head hanging out the window, a look of pure astonishment on his tanned face. "What the h.e.l.l? ..." he muttered.

A sharp banging noise startled Sonny. He jerked his head around to find old lady Wheeler banging a broom head on the hood of his car.

"Chief Pa.s.son!" she squalled. "I want you to stop these hoodlums from coming around my house at night, tormenting me. Me comprenez-vous?" Me comprenez-vous?"

"Oui, en effet," Sonny replied in the language the old woman had switched to in her anger. He winced as she pounded the hood of his car with the broom. He got out of the car. "Mrs. Wheeler, will you please stop doing that?" Sonny replied in the language the old woman had switched to in her anger. He winced as she pounded the hood of his car with the broom. He got out of the car. "Mrs. Wheeler, will you please stop doing that?"

She ceased her hammering with the broom.

"Thank you, Mrs. Wheeler." He cut his eyes, inspecting the hood for damage. No dents. "What's wrong? What's been happening?"

"What's been happening?" she squalled at him. "As if you didn't know, Sonny Pa.s.son. I took a stick to your behind when you were young, and I'll do it again you talk uppity to me."

"Mrs. Wheeler ..." Sonny had to hide a grin. Mrs. Wheeler had been one of his teachers in high school; and for sure, she'd laid the board of education to his b.u.t.t more than once. "I don't know what you're talking about. Pouvez-vous comprendre ce que je dis?" Pouvez-vous comprendre ce que je dis?"

"Haw! You trying to tell me you don't read the reports people call into your office, Sonny Pa.s.son?"

Sonny's eyes narrowed. "You've called the police to report ... what's been happening, Mrs. Wheeler?"

"Three times, Sonny. Three times I spoke with that white-trash Louis Black. Last time he said awful things to me."

"What things, Mrs. Wheeler?"

She told him, bluntly, as had always been her fashion.

Sonny balled his big hands into bigger fists and gritted his teeth. "You wait on the porch for me, Mrs. Wheeler. I'll be right back."

Louis Black's b.u.t.t hit the carpet in his bedroom. He had been awakened rudely ... by being jerked out of bed and dumped to the floor. He looked up at Chief Sonny Pa.s.son standing over him.

"Jesus Christ, Sonny!" Louis protested.

"You dumb son of a b.i.t.c.h!" Sonny cussed him. "I've put up with you because I thought you had the makings of a good cop. And because I felt sorry for you." He looked around him. The room, the house, was positively nasty. nasty. "Jesus G.o.d, you're living in filth! Now you tell me what's going on over at Mrs. Wheeler's house." "Jesus G.o.d, you're living in filth! Now you tell me what's going on over at Mrs. Wheeler's house."

"Nothin'," Louis said sullenly.

"You haven't spoken with her?"

"Naw."

"Menteur!" Sonny shouted at him. "I talked to C. B. not three minutes ago. He was on duty all three times she called requesting help. He said you handled the calls. But you never showed up. Then you tell old Mrs. Wheeler to get f.u.c.ked. You wanna deny that, Louis?" Sonny shouted at him. "I talked to C. B. not three minutes ago. He was on duty all three times she called requesting help. He said you handled the calls. But you never showed up. Then you tell old Mrs. Wheeler to get f.u.c.ked. You wanna deny that, Louis?"

'Naw. It don't make a s.h.i.t no more, Pa.s.son."

"What doesn't make a s.h.i.t, Louis? What?" doesn't make a s.h.i.t, Louis? What?"

Louis grinned, rolled over on one side, and pulled down his dirty drawers.

"He did what?" Don asked.

Sonny had called Don at the substation and asked him, and Sam, if Sam was still there, to come over to Mrs. Wheeler's house. And bring the priest, too. The four men now stood outside the old lady's house.

"Stuck his a.s.s in my face. I kicked him right in his big b.u.t.t. After I fired him."

Don shook his head. "Incredible. I always knew Louis was dumb; I never thought he was stupid."

"And you say his house was dirty?" Sam asked.

"No, Sam-it was filthy. Nasty. And his drawers looked like he'd been wearing them for a week. It was disgusting."

Mrs. Wheeler's screaming cut the hot morning air. The men ran for the house.

11.

Mrs. Wheeler pointed with the handle of her broom. The men looked in that direction. b.l.o.o.d.y internal organs from an animal were scattered on the old woman's back porch. Above the grisly scene, spray-painted on the outside wall, were the words: THE DEAD SHALL RISE AND WALK AT NIGHT.