dived under the covers like a frightened child.
Daniel moved quickly. He walked over and was about to rip the covers off Roger when he glanced at the photos, now strewn all across the bed. He could immediately tell what the images were.
Until now, Daniel had been fairly restrained. But witnessing the blatant and graphic violation of children, something snapped. He tore the blanket from the blubbering man, who instinctively threw up his arms in front of his face for protection. “Please, please don’t hurt me,” he wailed.
“Open your fucking eyes, you pervert.”
Roger closed them tighter, as if trying in vain to escape a supernatural horror.
“I said open them.” Daniel’s voice was strangely calm even as his pulse was racing. Easy, Old Hoss, he thought to himself. The last thing he needed was to throw a clot at this critical juncture.
Reassured by the steadiness of Daniel’s voice, Roger opened his eyes. The moment he did so, Daniel thrust the muzzle with all his might right into Roger’s left eye socket and squeezed the trigger repeatedly.
Daniel quickly fled the scene. He sprinted across the hall and kicked open the door to the reverend and his wife’s room without even bothering to check whether it was unlocked. The door was made of cheap wood and flew off its hinges.
They were already awake, fighting back sleep and trying to get their bearings. Daniel stood in the doorway.
Reverend Bradley instinctively reached for the landline phone on his nightstand. He grabbed the handset and furiously punched 9-1-1. He tried a few more times—Daniel watching, smiling—before realizing that the line had been cut.
Daniel knew that the reverend kept his guns locked in his den. To reach them, to escape, Bradley or his wife would have to go through Daniel. And that wasn’t happening.
With all the Bradley children dead and the staff ladies taking care of the children, Daniel could finally take his time.
To Reverend Bradley, he said, “I’ll give you a moment to get your wits about you. But try anything funny . . .” He held up the gun, making sure they saw it.
Dorothy Bradley looked at her husband, completely terrified. “Seamus, what’s happening?” Daniel almost felt bad for her. Thinking this frail old man could protect her.
Reverend Bradley studied Daniel, then turned to his wife. “It will be all right, Dorothy. Just do as the gentleman says.” Daniel could tell the reverend was racking his brain, trying to think of a way out of this predicament. Trying to place him. Figure out who he was. What he wanted.
Daniel allowed his face to go slack, to become an expressionless mask, no more revealing than the one he had worn when he entered Miriam Manor. “No, no, it most certainly will not, Reverend.”
He could tell that Dorothy believed him. Her husband, however, was still confident in his powers of negotiation. “Just tell me who you are, my son. How you’re hurting. Together, we can work through this.”
Daniel had to admit, he was a powerful and persuasive speaker, and he could easily see how an unsophisticated congregation could be enraptured by his oratory.
“You haven’t guessed?” mocked Daniel. “I go by many names. Belial. Beelzebub. Ba’al.”
“Impossible.”
Daniel tried to suppress a small smile. “Come now, Reverend. Of course it’s possible. After all, isn’t that what you’ve built your whole sick little empire on? The existence of evil. You hold these girls hostage, offering them protection. Salvation. You must believe in the Devil and all his minions. Or what would you be? A worthless pederast? Just a regular old hypocrite?”
“You filthy heathen!” the reverend spat with white-hot anger. Daniel didn’t think this was an act. A hypocrite he may have been, but Reverend Bradley was also really pissed off.
“Let me ask you something,” Daniel said, turning his attention to Dorothy. “Did it ever give you pause? All the injustices you visited upon these poor innocent young women. Did you ever step back and wonder what perverted version of religion could endorse such evil?”
“It was . . . the word of God,” she stammered, hardly convincing.
“And your love of God is absolute?”
“Of course,” she answered quickly, seemingly aware of her previous hesitation.
Daniel began to pace around the room, considering his options while always keeping one eye on the couple. “Then renounce him.”
“Excuse me?”
“Renounce Jesus Christ.”
“Don’t you dare, Dorothy,” the reverend chimed in.
Daniel trained his gun on him and ran his thumb over the rear sight. “I’ll get to you, Reverend. But right now, I’m having a conversation with your wife. Interrupt us