“Just Sooner and Elsbeth live here. Reverend McCamy has money from his aunt, but they don’t have anyone cleaning for them as far as I know. There’s a gardener who comes by, Mr. Dillard, a really old fellow with no teeth in his mouth, but he’s magic with flowers. The place should be empty. Let’s just check it out.”

Sherlock carried her SIG pressed downward, next to her leg.

Katie stopped abruptly.

“What is it?”

“I think I saw a flash of light in one of the upstairs windows.”

“What kind of flash?”

“Like someone was holding a mirror and it caught the sun.”

“Let’s just see if our guy’s here.”

They made their way to the back of the house and watched for a few minutes.

Sherlock said, “Okay, Katie, if you’d stay here for a little while, I’m going around to the front now and ring the front-door bell. If Clancy is in there, all his interest will be on the front door. You can come around the side and look in, see if you spot him. If he’s in there, hey, we’ve got hot pursuit.”

“Let’s do it.”

Sherlock jogged back into the forest and made her way back around to the road in front of the house, her SIG safely in her belt holster again. She started whistling when she turned into the driveway of 2001 Pine Wood Lane.

Are you there, Clancy?

She walked right up to the front door and rang the bell, whistling Bobby McFerrin’s song, “Don’t Worry Be Happy.”

There wasn’t a hint of anyone coming to the front door.

She rang again.

Was that a sound coming from inside?

She called out, “Anybody home? I’ve got some real great deals to offer you this morning. I know it’s Sunday, but do you want a chance to win a trip to Maui? Stay at the Grand Wailea?”

She rang again. She heard something, this time she was sure. She could practically see Clancy hovering near the front door, wondering what he should do.

Open the door, Clancy.

He wasn’t going to open the door, or maybe he just wasn’t there. Katie should be coming around the side of the house now, looking in through all the windows. Quiet, Katie, be careful.

Sherlock called out again, “Hey, I can hear you in there. Why don’t you want to talk to me? I’m tired, you know? Could I at least have a glass of water? I’ve been walking a whole lot this morning.”

Suddenly, the door opened.

K atie and Sherlock faced each other.

Katie whispered, “I didn’t see him. But you know? The back door was open, I kid you not. Let’s just take a quick look around.”

“We shouldn’t be in here, Katie. We’re the law and we’re supposed to have a warrant.”

“I know, but this is personal, Sherlock. This guy threatened me and Keely. Five minutes. Then we can drive the truck up all right and proper into the driveway and wait outside for Sooner and Elsbeth to come home for lunch. This is our best chance, before he knows we’re coming.”

Sherlock pulled her weapon out and the two women searched the downstairs. It took much longer than five minutes because the house was so big, with old-fashioned nooks and crannies.

Katie nodded toward the stairs, wide enough for both of them to go up side by side, but they didn’t. Katie motioned for Sherlock to follow her.

Katie had been in the house a couple of times, knew there were at least six rooms on the second level. They went through each of the rooms. Five were bedrooms and each was empty. There was nothing, not a sign that Clancy had been there.

The last door on the second level was the master bedroom, and it was something else. Katie and Sherlock, after checking every corner, stood in the middle of the room and stared.

“Preacher likes his comfort,” Sherlock said.

“I’ll say.” Katie stared at the huge bed with the white fur cover, and four pure white pillows. The only other color used was black, and that was just a single leather chair and hassock.

Sherlock raised her eyebrow. “White and black-good versus evil?”

“I guess it’s an endless struggle, even in the bedroom.” Katie checked the closet. It was small, too small, nothing much in it. She stood in front of it, frowning. Then she saw a small, nearly hidden latch on the back wall, and pressed it down.

Another door opened and she stepped into a room that was nearly as big as her dining room. “Sherlock, come take a look.”

Katie said, “This is the biggest walk-in closet I’ve ever seen. And look at that marble slab in the middle-what do they use that for? Look here, Sherlock, there are drawers under it, with underwear, her sweaters. And he’s got his shirts piled on top.”

“Oh my,” Sherlock said, stepping into the room, “you’re right. This green marble slab, isn’t it gorgeous, looks Italian. You know, this is odd, but I’d say that marble slab looks more like an altar than some place to stack your freshly laundered shirts.”

Katie walked around the large six-foot marble slab that was about three and a half feet off the white-carpeted floor. It was a lovely richly veined green, quite expensive. She saw something tucked under one corner of the marble. She easily flipped up an open stainless-steel cuff. A cuff? She found a cuff on each corner.

Katie raised an eyebrow.

Sherlock said, “I’d say they were for wrists and ankles.”

“Oh my,” Katie said, fingering one of the cuffs. “I’m kind of embarrassed. I was thinking Elsbeth was a regular garden-variety kind of subservient wife, but would you look at these cuffs? I can’t imagine it would be very comfortable lying on that hard marble.”

“No. I wonder what they do once he cuffs her down?”

Katie shuddered. “You know, maybe that’s not any of our business. This is creepy. Let’s check the rest of the house for Clancy, then we can come back here. Just maybe I can bust Reverend McCamy for something.”

“Nah, forget it, we’re actually breaking and entering here, Katie. Hang on just a second. What’s this?” Sherlock pulled two tie racks aside. She found a button and pushed it. A cabinet opened up. It was deep, maybe five feet high. On the left, there was an array of whips, artistically displayed. Next came a block of wood topped with thick fur, a netful of small silver balls, nearly a dozen dildoes of different sizes, shapes, and colors.

Near the top of the cabinet was a wide shelf with at least a dozen vials neatly lined up on it. “Illegal drugs?” Katie said, reaching for one. “If so, maybe I can figure out how to get a warrant.” She read the label. “Tears.”

“Tears? What could that be?” Sherlock reached out for the vial. She unfastened the round top and sniffed the liquid. “Phew!” Immediately she started to tear up. She swiped her fingers across her eyes. “It makes tears all right, Katie. Essence of onion?”

“Probably, but for what?”

“Well, maybe if she’s not crying enough while she’s being whipped, he gives her a whiff of this.” She refastened the cap and set the vial back on the shelf. She picked up another. “Look at this one. Of all things it’s called Man’s Instrument. I guess that says it all.”

Katie opened the lid and sniffed. “I wonder if a guy drinks it or rubs it on.”

Sherlock said, “Probably drinks it. Here’s one called Woman’s Gift. Pills, big red pills. I wonder what they’re for?”

“Maybe these pills assist the Man’s Instrument?”

“Viagra?”

“Could be.”

Katie said. “Well, it looks like there’s more to this than I’d ever imagined. Nothing illegal, though.”

“Even if we’d found a ton of cocaine, we couldn’t arrest him for it. Let’s go, Katie. I’d just as soon not be caught here by either the reverend or his wife.”

“There’s a thought that makes me shudder.”

Sherlock said as she closed the cabinet doors and rearranged the tie racks, “I guess everybody has their own version of hair rollers.”

They checked the third floor-former servants’ quarters, what looked like an old schoolroom, and an unfinished attic, filled with enough old stuff for a garage sale, but no Clancy.