Dance with the Devil

people don't need reasons that normal people would understand,” Michael said. “They operate in another dimension altogether, on a plane of lesser sanity.”
        “Still-”
        “Think, Katherine!” he demanded. He sounded desperately concerned for her. She remembered the kiss, the way he had been so protective about her in the cafe… “Think of all that's happened in Owlsden since you've come there-including Yuri's murder. Doesn't it seem likely that someone in the house is a cultist?”
        “You mean-Alex might have-”
        “Killed Yuri.”
        She did not reply.
        She could not reply.
        All that she could think of was Alex Boland's unpleasantly negative outlook on life and the strange, pessimistic conversation of his closest friends…
        “Are you there, Katherine?”
        “Yes.”
        “Will you be ready by eleven?”
        “It won't be easy. Couldn't we wait until morning…” Even though she was frightened badly, she did not want to admit that what Michael had told her might be true.
        “Then leave your bags,” he said. “Just come along with me and look at the evidence. If you don't think it incriminates Alex, I'll take you right back to Owlsden. But I don't believe you'll want to go back, not after you see what I've seen.”
        “Can't you tell me on the phone?” she asked.
        “It loses its dramatic impact that way. I'm not taking any chances on under-selling this to you. I want you to see it, to be as frightened as I was-as I am.”
        “I'll be outside at eleven,” she said.
        “Not in front of the house.”
        “Where, then?”
        “At the top of the ski slope,” he said.
        “You can bring the Rover up that way?”
        “As easy as the road,” he said. “Maybe easier.”
        “I'll be there.”
        “Take care.”
        “I will.”
        “Eleven.”
        “Sharp,” she said.
        She hung up and turned around to go upstairs, the book in her hand forgotten now, and she confronted Alex who stood only a dozen feet away, as if he had been listening.
        “Going out?” he asked.
        His eyes seemed darker and more intense than ever.
        “In the morning,” she said, thinking fast. She tried desperately to remember how much she had said, what details he might have learned from hearing one side of the conversation. “If Lydia doesn't have anything for me to do.”
        “Going with Michael Harrison?” he asked.
        “Yes, as a matter of fact.”
        How long had he been standing there? How much did he know, and how much was he guessing at? Had he heard her mention his name…?
        “I wish you wouldn't, Katherine.”
        “You've got an obsession about him, haven't you?”
        “No. I just know him better than you do.”
        “Your mother thinks he is-”
        “I know him better than she does.”
        “Well, I like him.”
        “Katherine, I honestly believe that he is capable of almost anything.” He stepped into the center of the hall, his arms spread slightly at his sides, as if he were pleading with her. Or as if he were blocking the way so that she could not get past him unless he permitted it.
        “Must you always think the worst of everyone and everything?” she asked, a bit too harshly. She was goaded on by fear as well as by anger. “You never look at the positive side, the bright side of anything, Alex. Sometimes, you're absolutely morbid.”
        He seemed shocked by the evaluation, but he recovered quickly as she took a step toward him, his hands still slightly open at his sides. “Are you going skiing with him?”
        She hesitated, realized that he must have overheard something to do with the rendezvous point. It would be better to admit to this much so as not to make him doubt her word that the meeting was not until the following morning. “Yes, skiing,” she said.
        “Maybe I could go along, make it a threesome,” he said, though it was surely the last thing in the world he would enjoy.
        “Maybe you could,” she said, rather than antagonize him. Since she wouldn't be going skiing with Michael in the morning, what harm did it do to agree with Alex now?
        “What time?” he asked.
        “Eleven.”
        “At the slope?”
        “Yes.”
        He stepped out of her way and smiled at her. “I'll be there just to prove that I don't always look on the gloomy side of things-and to