“She was… killed, dear,” Bess said quietly.
“Killed?” Evelyn felt as if she had started a book in the middle. “What happened to her?”
“She was murdered,” Harold said flatly.
“She was also… molested,” Otis said tightly.
“That’s why we were so worried about you, dear,” Bess said, whimpering.
“Molested?”
“Raped,” Harold snapped impatiently.
“Harold, don’t use that word,” Bess whispered and put her hand to her throat.
“They found her down in the old cistern where the Overstreet house burned,” Otis explained quietly. “Dr. Latham went looking for her when he found out she hadn’t gotten to the Willets’. He found her overnight case near the old foundation. When he looked around, some of the boards had been taken off the cistern… Then the tent show burned down.”
“I knew about that. I saw it on my way home.”
“All those people killed.” Bess shivered. “Everyone there was killed except that Haverstock person and the Mexican.”
Evelyn looked at her in horror. If Henry and Tim were dead, what would Angel do?
“I’m still waiting to hear where you were last night,” Otis brought them back to the subject.
“Oh, that…” She fidgeted.
“Yes, that. I’m waiting.”
Evelyn glanced at the car. Harold looked at her suspiciously and followed her gaze. Evelyn moved toward the house, trying to get them inside. “I spent the night at Francine’s,” she said lamely.
“Francine’s?” Bess gasped.
“Why did you put the car out by the barn?” Harold asked and narrowed his eyes at her.
Evelyn ignored him. “Francine wasn’t there. I didn’t know anything about… I thought she was at Rose’s.”
“Then what were you doing there?” Otis demanded.
“There was an accident. I…”
“An accident?” Bess fluttered her hands. “Were you hurt? Is that why you were at the doctor’s?”
Evelyn went through the door, followed by her anxious parents. Harold paused and looked at the car speculatively, then went in after them.
“No, I wasn’t hurt. I just didn’t feel like going to Rose’s party.”
“Why didn’t you call us?”
“I’m sorry. I guess I didn’t think about it. I didn’t know you’d be worried.”
Angel watched them go into the house, then slipped from the car on the opposite side and ran crouching into the barn. He looked around for a place to hide. “Angel!” A voice hissed at him from above. He jerked his head up and saw Henry peering down at him. “I thought you’d show up here sooner or later,” Henry said.
A grin of delight and relief split Angel’s face. He rubbed his damp palms on the seat of his pants and shifted from one foot to the other.
“Come on up,” Henry said, smiling. “We have some serious decisions to make.”
A little later Otis and Bess left for church, but Evelyn begged off. “I really don’t feel like going,” she said as they stood on the porch.
Bess brushed a speck of lint from Otis’s sleeve. “All right, dear. I don’t know what people will think, with you and Harold both not showing up.”
Otis tugged at his tight collar. “Harold is a grown man. If he doesn’t want to go to church today, we should respect his wishes.”
Bess sighed and pulled on her gloves. “Everything is such a muddle this morning. I don’t know whether I’m coming or going.”
They got into the car and drove off. Evelyn watched the car go down the lane and turn onto the main road. Then she looked around for Harold and wondered why he had so mysteriously stayed home. She didn’t see him anywhere and walked furtively to the barn.
A dozen blackbirds pecked and quarreled in the feedlot, then flew away with a flutter of wings when she approached. They settled back as if nothing had disturbed them as she went inside. The interior was silent and warmly pungent with the odors of hay and alfalfa and the still lingering cow smells where her father and Harold had milked early that morning.
She looked around and didn’t see Angel. She felt a momentary panic that he hadn’t waited.
“Angel,” she called softly and heard a movement above her. Angel’s grinning face and Henry’s dour visage looked down at her.
“We’re up here,” Henry said.
She gasped. “Henry!” she cried with delight. “I thought… Everyone thinks you were killed in the fire.”
“It would be fine with me if everyone did think so,” he said sourly, “but there are a couple who I wasn’t.”
Evelyn scrambled up the ladder to the loft and climbed into the cotton-seed bin with them.
“Tim! You’re all right, too,” she said, beaming.
“For the moment.” He grimaced.
“What happened?” She sat on the soft cottonseed beside Angel, feeling a warmth from his nearness.
Henry leaned morosely against the wall of the bin. “Things went completely to hell last night. The Minotaur raped and killed one of the town girls…”
“Francine!” Evelyn cried and felt the strangest sensation in her thighs.
“I don’t know what her name was.”
“The Minotaur?” She remembered him standing in the aisle, leaning across Francine so Harold could examine his horns. She remembered his massive body and satin skin and the straining loincloth. She also remembered Francine’s peculiar tears and strained reaction, which she had thought was only embarrassment. Francine was so easily embarrassed. And the doctor said she had been acting strangely all day Saturday. Thoughts tangled in her head and she shivered. But she looked up and saw Angel reading her soul again. He took her hand and warmth drove away the chill.
“It wasn’t the first time,” Henry continued, not noticing. “Haverstock’s always managed to cover it up before, but last night he went berserk. He killed the Minotaur, then set fire to the place and killed everyone else. Tim and I managed to escape. Haverstock was in such a blind rage he didn’t see us.”
“My mother said the Mexican…”
“Louis!” Tim spat.
“Yeah,” Henry snorted. “I guess he thought Louis was still useful. That’s a matched set if I ever saw one.” He looked at Evelyn seriously. “Listen, Miss Bradley, we appreciate all you’ve done to help Angel, but we can’t stay here. He knows about you and he’s bound to come here looking for us. Our only chance is to stay out of his way. If he ever finds us, we’re dead. There’s nothing we can do to defend ourselves.”
“How does he know about me?”
“I told him,” Tim said softly, shame in his voice and pain on his ugly little face.
“You told him? Why?” Evelyn asked incredulously.
“Don’t blame Tim, Miss Bradley,” Henry assured her. “No one could resist Haverstock’s questions for very long.”
“There’s one thing I didn’t tell him,” Tim said. “I didn’t tell him we know Angel has the gift too, that Angel used it yesterday morning when he kept you from falling into the water. But the only reason I didn’t tell him is that he didn’t ask me.” His voice trembled, remembering. “Most important he doesn’t know that Angel is aware he has the gift. I think that is the last thing Haverstock wants, for Angel to know.”
“If Angel has the same power, can’t we fight back?” Evelyn asked.
“He doesn’t know how to use it,” Henry sighed. “And Haverstock isn’t about to let him live long enough to find out.”
“Then the only thing we can do is keep out of his way until Angel does learn how.” Evelyn said logically.
“Miss Bradley,” Henry said firmly, “it would be very dangerous for you to get mixed up in this.”