Ethan knocked.
“Enter.”
“Open the door, Sheriff.”
There was no window in this imposing door. Ethan opened it and stepped into a library that held books floor to ceiling on all four of its walls. It was twenty feet deep, and against the back wall there was a large mahogany desk, and behind it stood a man wearing a white robe belted at the waist with a gold-link chain. He was a fine-looking man, in his fifties, tall, slim, his eyes a deep, shocking blue, eyes that pinned you. He held a small pistol in his hand.
Joanna wanted to tell him he looked ridiculous, but the truth was he didn’t. He looked like a biblical prophet. She saw a strange pendant hanging from the belt. She wasn’t close enough to see what it was.
Ethan said, “Caldicot Whistler, I presume?”
“Yes.” Whistler held the gun in an elegant hand, an artist’s hand, long-fingered and graceful. If Ethan wasn’t mistaken, it was a Colt-style 1911 .45 semiautomatic aimed at him, not Joanna or Autumn, and for that he was grateful.
“Blessed told me you were bringing them to me, Kjell. Please stay close. You will be needed again.”
Kjell gave Whistler a slight bow and left the room, closing the door behind him.
Whistler stepped from behind his desk, but he didn’t come close enough for Ethan to make a try for him. Smart man. He said, staring down at Autumn for a long moment, “So this is the child.”
Autumn pressed harder against Joanna’s side.
“Her name is Autumn Backman,” Joanna said.
Whistler ignored her. “I did not know if Blessed would manage it. He is immensely powerful, but there were obviously problems for him this time, and so the two of you are here with her.”
Ethan said, “Did Blessed tell you that Grace is dead?”
Whistler paled. “Yes,” he whispered. “Blessed gave me that tragic news. And it is you who brings it up, Sheriff? You kill a great man, and you think to mock me with it?”
“If I indeed killed him, I have no memory of it, since Blessed had stymied both me and Joanna.”
Whistler closed his eyes an instant, then stared again at Ethan. “Blessed was so upset he ran to see the Father with the news. I knew Blessed was shot in the shoulder by that FBI agent, but this—it is too terrible.”
Joanna said, “What’s terrible is murdering an innocent man and kidnapping a child.”
“Shut up, woman, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Ah, this is unbearable. Grace was incredibly powerful. He was unique; nothing like his talent has ever before been recorded.” He waved a graceful white hand at the shelves of books.
“How could you possibly get close enough to shoot Grace?”
“As I told you, I have no memory of anything.”
Whistler’s face went hard. “It doesn’t matter.” He raised his gun hand.
Joanna said, “The child is watching you, Caldicot. What will happen if you shoot Ethan? What will this Father person think of you then?”
Whistler slowly lowered the gun. “You are alive, Sheriff, only as long as it suits the Father. You need to remember that.” He fell silent, shook his head back and forth. “It is hard to believe Grace is dead. What a huge loss for all of us. The devout will miss him. And the Father will be desolate.”
Ethan said, “Even the powerful die, you know that.”
Whistler looked at each of them, his eyes coming to rest on Autumn. “Blessed knew I would want to see you, speak to you. I fear you cannot take your uncle’s place; no one can. It is a pity, child, that you will never know your uncle’s devotion, his loyalty to his family, his infinite patience with our people. He held such high hopes for you, but now he will never see what you become. He hoped that in the fullness of time you would achieve powers that will astound everyone, as he knew his did. He died for you.”
Ethan said, “No, he died because he tried to kidnap her and murder us. Whatever else he was, he was a criminal.”
“It would give me infinite pleasure to shoot you, Sheriff.”
Ethan decided he just might, despite Autumn’s being there. He gave Whistler a big smile. “Your room is quite professorial. Is that your role here? To teach all the people who sign on here?”
“Like all the devout, I am also a student. I learn as they learn, pray for powers as they pray. In addition, I am the financial officer of Twilight.”
“It must have cost very big bucks to build this underground bunker.”
“Indeed, but then, money is very easy to come by for us, Sheriff. Even with Grace’s passing, it will not be a problem. Blessed can simply walk into a bank and walk out with whatever amount is available. If one is accepted among us, poor or rich, money isn’t necessary.”