Divine Evil

your position as deputy, you should be able to steer him in another direction. Perhaps what we need is some new evidence.”
    “Evidence?”
    “Leave it to me.”
    “I was thinking …” Mick tried to choose his words carefully. “With Cam poking around like he is, and the town so edgy, we might postpone the next couple of ceremonies. Maybe until Lammas Night. By then—”
    “Postpone?” Atherton's voice was no longer hushed, but sharp as a scalpel. “Postpone our rites because of fools and weaklings? We postpone nothing. We yield nothing. We fear nothing.” Gracefully, he rose to tower over the other men. “We will have our
messe noir
on schedule. And we will demand that His wrath fall on those who would persecute us.”
    It was after four when Clare dragged herself into the house. She went straight to the refrigerator, popped open a beer, and chugged half of it. It helped wash the taste of cranberry parfait punch out of her mouth.
    She stepped out of her shoes as she walked from the kitchen to the living room. “Blair? Blair, are you home? Guess not,” she muttered into her beer when there was no answer. She shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it in the direction of a chair. She started upstairs, tilting the beer with one hand and unbuttoning her blouse with the other.
    When she heard the movement above her head, sheswallowed slowly. A creak, the sound of something heavy being dragged. Silent in her stocking feet, she moved to the top of the steps.
    The attic door was open. Her heart sank a little at the idea of Blair going through those boxes of memories as she had.
    But when she stood in the doorway, it was Cam she saw, not her brother.
    “What are you doing?”
    Cam looked up from the box he was emptying. “I didn't hear you come in.”
    “Obviously.” She stepped inside the room. Her father—those pieces of his life—had been uncovered and stacked on the floor. “I asked what you were doing.”
    “Looking for something that might help.” He sat back on his heels. One look at her face warned him he'd better go carefully. “Your father might have had something else. A notebook. Some papers.”
    “I see.” She set the half-finished beer aside to pick up the gardening shirt. “Got a search warrant, Sheriff?”
    He struggled for patience and at least found understanding. “No. Blair gave the go-ahead. Clare, are we going to cover the same ground again?”
    She shook her head and turned away. Slowly, with infinite care, she refolded the shirt and set it down. “No. No, go through every scrap if it'll help put this aside once and for all.”
    “I can take the boxes home, if it would be more comfortable for you.”
    “I'd rather you did it here.” She turned back. “Sorry for the bitch routine.” But she didn't look at the boxes. “This is the best way, and it helps that you're the one doing it. Do you want some help?”
    It was a nice feeling to be able to admire as well as loveher. “Maybe. I haven't found anything.” He rose to go to her. “What did you do to your hair?”
    She reached a hand to it automatically. “I cut it a little.”
    “I like it.”
    “Thanks. So, where is Blair?”
    “He was with me earlier. We ran into Trudy Wilson. She was in her nurse's uniform.”
    “Oh?”
    “Well, Blair's tongue was hanging out. Guess he goes for crepe-soled shoes, so I left him in Trudy's capable hands.” Cam glanced down to where Clare's blouse gaped open. “Have you got anything on under that?”
    She looked down. “Probably not. I got dressed in a hurry.”
    “Jesus, Slim, it makes me crazy always wondering whether or not you're wearing underwear.”
    She smiled, toying with the last two fastened buttons. “Why don't you find out for yourself?”
    He picked her up and had just carried her down the attic steps when Blair met them on the landing. Oops.
    Cam gave him a narrowed look. “There's that way with words again.”
    “Sorry. I, ah, just came by to tell you I have a date.”
    “Good for you.” Clare tossed the hair out of her eyes. “Want me to wait up?”
    “No. I'm going to take a shower.” He started down the hall. “By the way, you're on in about fifteen minutes.”
    “On what?”
    “TV. Alice told me. And if you two could wait to play Rhett and Scarlett until after I'm done, I'd appreciate it.” He closed the bathroom door.
    “TV?”
    “Oh, it's nothing.” Clare went back to nuzzling Cam's neck. “That Ladies Club thing.”
    “I forgot. How'd