"Actually, it's a little more serious than that. Somethin' happened out at Jake Cumberland's last night." He told Ted what had happened to Jake last night, and what he and Corinne Beckwith had found in Jake's trunk.

"And when Corinne said you have a golden retriever, I figured I better come over here."

Ted Conway gazed steadily at the policeman. "So you think Jared took his own dog out to Jake's place and killed it." He shook his head almost sadly. "You sure you haven't been talking to Father MacNeill? It sounds exactly like the kind of thing he'd come up with." His voice hardened. "But it doesn't really make much sense, does it?" A frown creased his brow. "Except, of course, that Scout is missing. Jared let him out right after he got home last night, and he didn't come back in." He shrugged helplessly. "We figured there must be a bitch in heat somewhere in the neighborhood, and you know how dogs are. Once they get that scent, there's no stopping them, is there?"

Ray Beckwith shook his head. "No way," he agreed. "Sometimes they can be worse'n tomcats." He pulled a small notebook out of his jacket pocket. "You say it was Jared that let him out?"

"That's right," Ted replied. "In fact, I was with him. We were both in the kitchen. The minute Jared opened the door, Scout was off like a rocket."

"And what about your boy? He go out again?"

Ted shook his head. "It was already pretty late, and it was a school night, too. Besides, he wasn't feeling well-went right to bed after we gave up trying to get the dog back. Still feeling kind of flu-ish this morning, so we're keeping him home from school. But I'll tell you what-how about if I have him give you a call once he's feeling a little better? Then you can ask him anything you want."

Ray Beckwith closed the notebook and tucked it back into his pocket. "Don't really see that that'll be necessary," he said. "Seems like you've pretty much told me what I need to know. Sounds like someone came across the dog and took him out to Jake's. Used it for some kind of voodoo ceremony. I guess someone really had it in for Jake-"

"Or for us," Ted Conway interjected. "Maybe whoever did it used Scout for a reason." His eyes fixed on Beckwith.

The sheriff frowned as he turned Ted Conway's words over in his mind. Then he thought he understood what the other man meant. "You mean Father Mack?" he asked.

Ted Conway shrugged again. "You said that, Ray," he said softly. "Not me."

As Ted Conway's eyes remained steadily on him, Ray Beckwith wondered why he'd let Corinne talk him into coming over here. It was suddenly so obvious that the Conways didn't have anything to do with the vandalism, he felt he was just wasting time. "No sir, Mr. Conway," he said. "I'm sure not gonna let that happen." Shaking hands with Ted, he strode off the porch.

"Well?" Corinne asked anxiously. "Was it their dog?"

Ray nodded. "But none of them had anything to do with it, babe. The dog took off last night, and the boy was in bed, sick. Still is."

Corinne's lips pursed suspiciously. "Did you see him?"

"I didn't need to see him," Beckwith shot back. "You've been married to me long enough to know I can tell when someone's lying to me. Ted Conway wasn't lying."

Corinne's gaze shifted back to the house. Ted Conway was still standing on the porch, and as his eyes met hers, Corinne felt as if a wave of hatred had broken over her.

Suddenly, all Corinne Beckwith wanted was to get away.

As far away as she could.

Kim sat through the first hour of classes barely hearing a word that Sister Clarence said. She continually glanced out the window, hoping to see Jared coming across the square toward the school, but by the time the class was half over, she knew he wasn't coming. Even then she couldn't concentrate. From the moment she'd seen Sandy Engstrom, she knew something was wrong. Sandy arrived at school just as the bell rang, and when she rushed by her, Kim assumed Sandy was trying to get to her locker while she still had time. But when Sandy finally arrived in class-two minutes late-her friend hadn't taken her regular seat right next to her.

Instead, she slid into an empty desk at the back of the classroom.

Sister Clarence had gone silent when Sandy entered the room, and Kim expected her friend to be sent directly to Father Bernard's office. But after fixing Sandy with a stern glare, Sister Clarence's face took on a look of concern. "Sandra? Are you all right?"

Every head in the class turned to gaze at Sandy. She was wearing more makeup than Kim had ever seen on her before, but even the makeup couldn't cover the pallor of her complexion.

"I'm fine, Sister Clarence," she announced in a challenging tone that made Kim brace herself for her immediate banishment to Father Bernard's office. The whole class held its collective breath, waiting. But for the first time in anyone's memory, Sister Clarence backed down.

"Very well," she said. "But I won't tolerate your being late again."

For the rest of the hour Kim kept stealing peeks at her friend, but Sandy never looked back at her. When the bell rang, Sandy was out the door before Kim had even finished packing her books into her bag. She hurried after Sandy, threading her way through the crowded corridor toward the lockers, where the two girls had fallen into the habit of meeting between classes.

Sandy was nowhere to be seen.

Sandy hadn't been in church yesterday.

Sandy hadn't called her yesterday, either.

And now, this morning, she hadn't even spoken to her.

Kim was just starting back toward her own locker when she caught a glimpse of Sandy through the glass of the school's front door. She glanced at the big clock on the wall above the door, and saw that she still had five minutes before her next class. Working her way through her milling classmates, she pushed the front door open and went out onto the sidewalk.

Sandy was deep in conversation with Luke Roberts. As Kim approached them, both teenagers fell silent.

"Sandy?" Kim asked uncertainly. "What's going on?"

Sandy turned to gaze at her. As Kim met Sandy's eyes-which seemed to have sunk within her skull-she saw it.

The same look she'd seen in her brother's eyes this morning. And her father's.

Then Luke turned to look at her, and there it was in his eyes, too.

Kim's pulse raced as an image rose in her mind, from the nightmare she'd had, when she saw Sandy and Luke writhing in front of that strange candlelit altar with the inverted cross.

Then Sandy spoke, in an angry, hissing voice Kim had never heard from her before. "Leave us alone, you stupid bitch!"

Kim's eyes widened in shock, but even as the words battered her, another memory rose in her mind.

Sandy sounded like Jared! Just like Jared when Father MacNeill had come to the house yesterday afternoon!

She took a step toward her friend. Without warning, Sandy spat at her, sending a great wad of greenish phlegm oozing down the front of Kim's blouse. Kim stared at the mess in shock, then, as peals of ugly laughter erupted from Luke and Sandy, she turned and fled back into the school. Tears of pain and humiliation streamed down her cheeks, and the crowd, already thinning as the students drained into the classrooms, parted to make way for her as she lurched toward the girls' room. She dropped her book bag on the floor and stared at herself in the mirror. Her face looked almost as pale as Sandy's, and as more images and memories tumbled through her mind-some of them dreamed, some of them real, all of them terrifying-confusion and terror overwhelmed her.

She ran the water in the sink, splashed some on her face, then gingerly scraped the wad of phlegm from her blouse. Sandy had spit at her! Actually spit at her! How could she have-