Divine Evil

fall to her knees. “I don't know who it was. I don't.”
    “Not good enough.” He hooked an arm around her waist.
    “I don't. I swear. He just called. He told me what to say and mailed me the money. Cash.”
    Cam hunkered down beside her. “I want a name.”
    “Biff's the only name I knew. He was a customer, just like I said.” She inched away until her back was to thewall. “Couple years back, he told me about this, well, kind of club or something. Said they'd pay me two hundred for the night. So I went.”
    “Where?”
    “I don't know.” Eyes wide, she tumbled down to one elbow. “I swear I don't. I was blindfolded. It was kind of kinky, you know? Biff picked me up, and we drove out of town, into the country. Then he stopped and blindfolded me, and we drove some more. After a while we had to walk. In the woods or something. He didn't take the blindfold off until we got to this place. They did rites and stuff there. You know, Satanism. But mostly it was just a bunch of guys who wanted some ass and thrills.”
    “I want descriptions.”
    “They wore masks. The whole time. I never knew none of them but Biff. It was weird, sure, but the pay was good. I went back every couple of months.”
    “Okay, Mona.” He helped her up, though she cringed back. “Let's sit down. You're going to tell me all about it.”

Chapter 30
    A LICE LICE TIDIED UP the kitchen for lack of anything better to do. Behind her Blair paced back and forth. It had been a long week, she thought, for everyone. No one believed that Clare had just lit out. That was fine for someone like Sarah Hewitt, but not Clare. It didn't make sense.
    The big sculpture she'd been working on was still standing out in the drive. Like a sign. People walked by it and stopped and traded speculations on a daily basis. Min Atherton had even taken Polaroid pictures of it and showed them off at Betty's.
    The mayor had called a special town meeting, offering a reward. It had been a moving speech, too, Alice remembered. All about taking care of your own and looking out for your neighbor. The mayor could talk as good as a tent evangelist. There'd hardly been a dry eye in the town hall.
    Except for the sheriff. He'd been dry-eyed. And haggard, she thought now. It was clear that he hadn't been doing much sleeping or eating in the six days since Clare had disappeared. He'd gotten up at the end of the meeting to answer questions from the townspeople and the reporterswho had crowded the small auditorium. Not just local people either, Alice reflected, but big-city reporters from D.C., New York, and Philadelphia.
    She ran the dishcloth under the water, then wrung it out to wipe off the counters. The air was hot and still, the temperature more suited to August dog days than June. But no one had thought to turn on the air conditioner. Clare's mother and her new husband were staying at the house, and so were the LeBeaus. Nobody complained about the heat.
    She glanced over at Blair and felt a kinship that had already replaced the longtime crush.
    “I could fix you something to eat,” she offered. “A sandwich maybe, or some soup.”
    “Thanks. Later maybe. I thought Angie and Jean-Paul would be back by now.”
    “They'll be along.” She spread the cloth over the lip of the sink. It was a helpless feeling, not being able to offer more than ham on rye or Campbell's chicken and rice. “It doesn't do any good not to eat. I could fix something up. The others'll be hungry when they get back.”
    He started to snap but stopped himself. Alice was as hollow-eyed and jumpy as the rest of them. “Fine. That's fine.” They both rushed into the garage at the sound of a motorcycle. Before Cam could climb off, Blair was beside him.
    “Anything?”
    “No.” Cam rubbed his gritty eyes, then swung his rubbery legs off the cycle. He'd been riding most of the day, down back roads, over old logging trails, covering ground that had already been covered and covered again.
    “I'm making sandwiches,” Alice said. “You come in and have one before you go again. I mean it, Cam. You need fuel just like that machine of yours.”
    Cam sat down on the cycle again as Alice hurried back in. “How's your mother?” Cam asked Blair.
    “Worried sick. She and Jerry are driving around.” He looked helplessly at the sculpture that towered behind them. “Like everyone. Christ, Cam, it's been almost a week.”
    He knew exactly how long it had been, to the hour. “We're doing a house-to-house,