Haverstock looked down at Louis and shook his head tragically. “Louis. I’m so very disappointed in you.” He turned to Angel and Evelyn, spreading his hands magnanimously. “It appears that Tim has managed to elude Louis and defend himself rather cleverly. I shall miss Louis. Such a handsome young man, and so randy. It’s true what they say about hot-blooded Latins.” He began to applaud slowly. “Bravo, Tim, bravo!” he called. “Splendidly done!”
He stopped applauding and his voice became unpleasant. “However, I fear it has only postponed the inevitable. I’m taking Angel and Miss Bradley back to town now. I suggest you don’t go outside, Tim. There are wild animals: wolves, foxes, coyotes, skunks, badgers, weasels, snakes, oh, and owls. I know they’re out there because I’m gathering them right now. A solid ring, Tim. A solid ring of appetites around the house. I’m sure any of them would be delighted to see you step outside. You would make a very tasty morsel.
“I’ll be back momentarily. I may even bring some friends with me. How would you like me to bring a hundred cats, Tim?” He laughed and ushered Angel and Evelyn from the house.
Outside, he turned to Evelyn. “I hope you aren’t easily panicked, Miss Bradley. What you are about to experience is really quite startling to the uninitiated.”
The three of them rose slowly from the ground. Evelyn gasped. “Don’t be alarmed, Miss Bradley. I’m taking the two of you back to my wagon, where we will have a few of the creature comforts. I suggest you make the journey silently. If you should see anyone and call out to them, you are forfeiting their lives. Is that quite clear?”
“Yes,” she said.
“Very well. This will be quite breathtaking, but perfectly safe. Please remain calm.” They began to move, drifting across the countryside, keeping low and away from signs of habitation. They followed Crooked Creek the last mile or so, staying between the trees and brush that lined the banks. They went under the bridge and circled around the depot, coming to the burned-out Wonder Show from behind. Evelyn saw no one on the street. Everything was closed but the café, and it would be soon. They settled to the ground behind the single remaining wagon. Haverstock opened the door and motioned them in. Angel went in first, still moving mechanically, his face blank. Haverstock bolted the door behind them.
He lit a hanging kerosene lamp. He adjusted the wick and sat in the chair at his desk. He breathed heavily and wiped perspiration from his forehead. Evelyn realized that he, like Angel, was physically tired after using the gift. He smiled, playing the host, and indicated the cot. Evelyn and Angel sat, but she wasn’t sure if Angel was in control of his movements.
“Rather spectacular way to travel, don’t you think?” Haverstock said, smiling. “Almost like magic.”
Evelyn shrugged and he looked at her suspiciously.
“My,” he said, laughing, “you are a spunky girl.” He narrowed his eyes. “One would almost think you were experienced at this sort of thing.” He opened one of the desk drawers and took out a bottle of brandy. He held it up and raised his eyebrows inquiringly.
Evelyn shook her head.
“It’s the real thing,” Haverstock said proudly. “Pre-Prohibition.”
“No, thank you,” Evelyn said.
Haverstock shrugged and poured some in a glass. “No point in offering it to Angel. He, too, is a teetotaler.” He put the bottle back in the desk drawer. “Now, Miss Bradley, you must tell me all about the little adventures Angel has had since he left my company for yours. What sort of mischief has the dear boy gotten into?”
Tim crept from Angel’s trouser leg and moved back under the cot against the wall. His mind was a whirling mass of fear and confusion. He had to do something to save Angel and Evelyn, but he didn’t know what it could be. He put the thought aside and concentrated on his first objective: how to get out of the wagon. The door was closed and bolted. He had seen that from behind Angel’s foot. The only other way was the small high window.
He moved to the end of the cot and behind a carton. He looked up. The window was open. But how to get up there? Haverstock sat almost directly below it. He studied a route. If he climbed the bookcases, he could crawl along the top and be within two inches of the window.
“How did you find us?” Evelyn asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, dear, I was hoping to spare you this.”
“Spare me what?” she asked nervously.
“This is so distressing, so distressing. Your brother told me where you were.” He frowned regretfully.
“I don’t believe you,” she said flatly, but then she remembered that Harold had not brought the food.
“Oh, rest assured that he didn’t do it voluntarily. No, no, my child. Don’t think harshly of your brother. He resisted for quite a long time. But, in the end, of course…” He spread his hands.
She felt dizzy. His voice echoed in her ears. “What did you do to him?”
“You really wouldn’t want to know.”
“Is he… all right?” But she knew.
“I’m afraid not, my dear,” he said sadly, but his eyes twinkled. “There was no choice, you see.”
“You killed him?” She could barely force the words through her tight throat.
Haverstock shrugged. “One of life’s unfortunate necessities, I’m afraid. Such a shame, too. He was such a good-looking boy.” He smiled wistfully and his eyes unfocused for a moment.
Evelyn began to sob quietly. Angel put his arms around her and held her to him. Haverstock watched them and smiled.
Tim inched along the top of the bookcase on his hands and knees. He reached the window and tried to decide the best way to get out.
“When your parents get home…” Haverstock shifted around in the chair and looked up at the high window. Tim ducked and rolled tightly against the trailer wall, his heart almost stopping. Haverstock stood and looked out the window, his head only inches from Tim. Only a bare afterglow of the sunset remained. He turned to face the two on the cot.
“Your parents must have gone home long ago, if they are like most farmer folk and have to be there to put the chickens to bed.” He sat again in the chair. “They found your brother dead of a simple heart attack. No fuss. No alarms.”
As Haverstock sat, Tim jumped onto the windowsill, swung his arms for balance, then dropped from sight. But Haverstock caught the movement from the corner of his eye. He jerked his head up but saw nothing. The window was empty and dark. He frowned in puzzlement, then got out of the chair. He unbolted the door and went outside. He looked around the wagon, then up at the window. A sleepy sparrow, perched on the scrollwork above the window, looked back at him. Haverstock smiled and stopped the bird’s heart. It fell to the ground like a stone.
“Can you do anything?” Evelyn whispered to Angel. He shook his head, the agony of Henry’s death still on his face. “Tim will bring help,” she whispered. Angel looked doubtful.
Haverstock came back in and rebolted the door.
Tim crawled from behind the wagon wheel and looked at the dead sparrow. He wished he had the gift and spent a few seconds on pleasant images of Haverstock taking months to die. But he had killed Louis, that he had done. A smile of grim pleasure twitched on his lips.
Then he looked around. Louis’s black Model-T was parked beside the caravan. The burned-out Wonder Show lay in black, untidy heaps. Tim was undecided about what to do. He knew he had to get help, but he had no idea where to go for it. The logical place was the sheriff’s office, but he didn’t know where it was, unless it was in the courthouse at the other end of town. He began running in that direction.