The Mephisto Club

simple matter of hospitality, she should have offered him a cup of coffee and invited him to stay for a few minutes, after he’d been kind enough to drive her home. But she was not in a hospitable mood.
    To her relief, he didn’t linger, but turned to leave. “I’ll check in with you in the morning,” he said.
    “I’ll be fine.”
    “You need to be careful, Maura. We all do.”
    But I’m not one of you,
she thought.
I never wanted to be.
    The doorbell rang. They looked at each other.
    He said, quietly, “Why don’t you see who it is?”
    She took a breath and stepped into the foyer. She took one glance through the window and immediately opened the door. Even the blast of cold air could not drive the flush of heat from her cheeks as Daniel stepped inside, his arms already reaching for her. Then he saw the other man in the hallway, and he froze in place.
    Sansone smoothly stepped into the silence. “You must be Father Brophy,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Anthony Sansone. I saw you at Dr. O’Donnell’s house the other night, when you came to pick up Maura.”
    Daniel nodded. “I’ve heard about you.”
    The two men shook hands, a stiff and wary greeting. Then Sansone had the good sense to make a quick exit. “Arm your security system,” he reminded Maura.
    “I will.”
    Before he stepped out the front door, he shot one last speculative look at Brophy. Sansone was neither blind nor stupid; he could probably guess what this priest was doing in her house. “Good night,” he said, and walked out.
    She locked the door. “I missed you,” she said, and stepped into Daniel’s arms.
    “It felt like such a long day,” he murmured.
    “All I could think of was coming home. Being with you.”
    “That’s all I could think of, too. I’m sorry to just show up and take you by surprise. But I had to stop by.”
    “It’s the kind of surprise I like.”
    “I thought you’d be home much earlier.”
    “We stopped on the road, for dinner.”
    “It worried me, you know. That you were driving home with him.”
    “You had absolutely nothing to worry about.” She stepped back, smiling. “Let me take your coat.”
    But he made no move to remove it. “What have you learned about him, since you’ve spent the whole day together?”
    “I think he’s just an eccentric man with a lot of money. And a very strange hobby.”
    “Seeking all things satanic? That goes a little beyond what I think of as
strange.
”
    “The truly strange part is that he’s managed to gather a circle of friends who all believe the same thing.”
    “Doesn’t it worry you? That he’s so completely focused on the dark side? That he’s actually
searching
for the Devil? You know the saying. ‘When you look long into the abyss…’”
    “‘The abyss also looks into you.’ Yes, I know the quote.”
    “It’s worth remembering, Maura. How easily darkness can draw us in.”
    She laughed. “This sounds like something from one of your Sunday sermons.”
    “I’m serious. You don’t know enough about this man.”
    I know he worries you. I know he’s making you jealous.
    She touched his face. “Let’s stop talking about him. He doesn’t matter. Come on, let me take your coat.”
    He made no move to unbutton it. Only then did she understand.
    “You’re not staying tonight,” she said.
    He sighed. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”
    “Then why did you come here?”
    “I told you, I was worried. I wanted to make sure he got you home safely.”
    “You can’t stay, even for a few hours?”
    “I wish I could. But at the last minute, they asked me to attend a conference in Providence. I have to drive down there tonight.”
    They.
She had no claim to him. The church, of course, directed his life.
They
owned him.
    He wrapped his arms around her, his breath warming her hair. “Let’s go away sometime,” he murmured. “Somewhere out of town.”
    Where no one knows us.
    As he walked to his car, she stood with her door wide open, the cold streaming around her, into the house. Even after he drove away, she remained in the doorway, heedless of the cruel sting of the wind. It was her just punishment for wanting him. This was what his church demanded of them. Separate beds, separate lives. Could the Devil Himself be any crueler?
    If I could sell my soul to Satan for your love, I think I would.

THIRTY
    Mrs. Cora Bongers leaned her considerable weight against the barn door and it slid open with a tortured creak. From the dark