How could Whit afford to do this? And why would he do it even if he could? Whit was no Holy Roller.
What was the money going to be used for? Rich found himself wondering.
Judging on past actions, Wheeler was not going to donate it to the poor or use it to help need} families.
The woman seated behind the table looked up at him smiling a Stepford smile. "Would you like to buy a chano to win a new Blazer? It's only five dollars"
Rich shook his head, moved away from the table "not today."
The afternoon dragged on. He and Corrie and Ann: ate together, standing with the crowd watching the relay races, then played a few of the games. He wandereq around taking a roll of photos, letting Anna carry the camera case. Several men on the fringes of the festivid grew progressively drunker, progressively louder, as hours passed, and members of Wheeler's congregatio kept sneaking furtive glances at the pastor to see what his reaction would be. But there was no reaction, no sermonizing, no lecturing. Although Wheeler's eyes seemed grow blank when he looked over at the drunks, he remained cheerfully tolerant of their excesses, choosing put up with them rather than make them an exam pl Rich found himself thinking that, in con artist terms, i was easier to take a drunk mark than a sober one.
That's what Wheeler reminded him of. A con artist. "What's the money being raised for?" Rich asked Co tie as they walked back to the car.
Behind them, the noun cement of the raffle winner was about to take plac
"The church just purchased more construction mate rials from the Valley," she said. "Pastor Wheeler is in. hurry to build the Church of the Living Christ."
Great, Rich thought, another monument to a shyste preacher's vanity.
What was next? A prayer tower? A broac casting tower? A TV show? But he said nothing.
The three of them walked back to the car in silence.
The Branding Iron, Rio Verde's only real bar, was the last building on the desolate east end of town, a low nondescript structure on the highway to Casa Grande that was separated from the Shell station the end of the town proper by a good half-mile of empty desert. The building was brick, with a small lone window next to the perpetually open front door through which shone the neon lights of red and blue beer signs. There were hitching posts around two sides of the building, and on summer ' weekends, for two days straight, an army of motorcycles remained parked in front of the posts, chrome shining in the desert sun, gleaming under the desert moon.
Tonight there were no hogs in front of the bar, only a few broken-down pickups. And Brad Woods's Buick.
Robert pulled next to the coroner's car and got out, yawning. He was fired. He'd spent most of the morning on the phone and most of the afternoon on his feet, and he'd been planning to go home and go to bed when Woods called and asked to meet him at the Branding Iron. He would've begged off, but the coroner had sounded half-crocked, and the fact that he refused to discuss what was bothering him over the phone alerted Robert's police sense.
He didn't want to meet Woods, but he had to.
Robert walked around to the front of the bar and through the door into the darkness. He heard the coronet's voice before his eyes had completely adjusted, and he made his way toward the far corner, feeling his way around the tables
There were three empty glasses in front of Woods and a half-full glass in his hand. He did not look up as Robert approached but moved over on the vinyl seat, patting the bench. "Pull up, have a sit down."
"Knock off the B-movie crap." Robert swiveled the end of the table so he could fit in and slid into the seat.
"What's all this abouL" "Vampires." "Shit."
"I'm serious."
"About vampires?"
"You know me, Robert. I'm not a superstitious man. But I'm also not a stupid man. I'm open-minded enough that I'll discard theories if they don't work, or adjust my worldview if evidence shows that I've been wrong." He swallowed a healthy amount of his drink. "And I have been wrong."
"Come on, you're drunk."
"I am drunk, but I'm not thinking this because I've had too much to drink. I've had too much to drink be cause I've been thinking this.
There are vampires, my friend. And we've got one here. Or more than one. Who knows?" He finished his glass, called for another.
Robert felt cold, but he kept his voice even, rational. "What brought this on?"
"I've been thinking on it for a while. Since Manuel's autopsy. I'm sure you know I was the one to suggest he be cremated. And I'm sure you know why."
Robert said nothing, suddenly wishing he'd ordered a drink as well.
"I got a call from Ed Durham this afternoon. Ed, you know, autopsied the animals. He didn't seem to be as spooked by them as I was by Manuel, maybe because they were animals, not people, but he sounded weird ar plenty scared when he called today. He told me to con over right away, he had a big problem. I knew somethir was up, so I hurried over there as quickly as I could.
"When I walked into the animal hospital, the place was silent. Silent.
You know what that place's like. Usually il so noisy that you can't even hear yourself think: meowin barking, braying, what have you. But there was nothing this time, and I'm telling you it gave me the creeps.
I came out, and he looked like a damn ghost. He didr say anything, just held open the door into the back, yard I followed him.
"The animals were dead, all dead. Drained. Just like] the ones from the arroyo. I could see them lying in the cages, the dogs and the cats and the hamsters and fluffy rabbits, and outside, through the window, in the dirt, horses. I've never seen anything like it. For a second, thought maybe it was some sort of unknown virus. thought maybe some government biological agent had been accidentally released into the wind and doused and that I hadn't detected it in Manuel's autopsy because I hadn't known what it was. But'I looked into the ca next to me, a tabby cat who'd been shaved around his neck for surgery, and I saw the wounds, and I knew it was a vampire. I knew it. I kept wondering if the vampire has; opened each and every cage, had grabbed the animal i side, bit into it, replaced it, and locked the cage.
"Ed asked me how he would tell people that their pets had died. He asked me about his insurance. He was we tied about all this small stuff, and I told him he had some thing bigger to worry about, and he became silent. I thi he knew it all along but didn't want to admit it." "Great," Robert muttered.
The bartender arrived with Woods's drink, and Rol ordered a Scotch.
Double.
"What I want to know is what are we going to do about this? We know what's going on here, and we can't walk around with ocular recta litis---"
"Is that what you think we're doing?"
"Don't get your damn feathers all ruffled. I know you're trying to find the murdererwthe vampire, let's be honest about it--but I'm talking about offensive, not fen sive measures. We should be practicing some pre tative medicine," ':" The bartender eturnd with Robert's drink. He 1 the man and downed it. "You really think there's a vampire here?"
"Don't you?"
Robert shook his head. "I don't know."
"But you admit it's a posslbfllty.
" He nodded. "Yeah."
"We need to start planning." He grinned. "Rein, her Jaws? If I've learned anything from movies, it's people in power should not stonewall the public if t have facts in their possession."
"Facts?"
"We have to come up with some sort of civil defense plan. Publicity should be no problem. We have you. brother We can't paniC people."
Woods finished his drink. "You think there is a yamF don't you?"
Robert took a deep breath. "Maybe." Woods looked at him, nodded.
They both ordered another drink.
Robert drove himself home. It was stupid and irresclass="underline" sible, having had several drinks, but he was the police chief, and there was hardly anyone on the road at time of night.