The sudden outburst of cheers and applause startled Sandy.
His attention had been drifting. He’d been to boring parties in his life but this one took the cake and all the candles. Six people hanging out for hours and not one word spoken. And it wasn’t that they were mutes or deafies; they didn’t use sign language either. They didn’t even hum as they had at the meeting he’d peeked in on the other night. Nothing.
The eeriness had worn off after a while, leaving him antsy for something to happen. And something was going to happen—he’d sensed the anticipation in their body language. And then again, maybe not. A certain tension in the air as well. Maybe something had gone wrong. Whatever was going on, Sandy had hoped he’d find out this century.
But then the sudden noise—real human voices—called his wandering thoughts back to the front room of the bungalow.
Grins, laughter, hugs all around—
What’s going on? What did I miss?
And then they settled down again into that numbing silence. But the tension seemed gone. All Sandy could sense now was the anticipation.
So weird. Wicked weird.
Maybe they were planning on sneaking Holdstock out of the country, or moving the whole cult somewhere to avoid prosecution.
And then he noticed that someone had moved the black-framed photo from its empty chair to a side table. Sandy could see the photo now. He repressed a gasp as he recognized the face: Ellen Blount, the woman who’d tried to knife the Savior in the back.
With the force of a blow Sandy was reminded that these innocuous-looking people already had killed one man and attempted to kill another. And here he was in the middle of nowhere peeping on them. Was he crazy? He should turn around and get the hell out of here. These people were killers and if they found him spying on them they’d kill him too.
Go back to the car, watch from a safe distance, and be ready and able to move on an instant’s notice. That was the smart thing to do.
But nobody got ahead by playing it safe.
And then he remembered what Savior had said: If the cops don’t pick up Holdstock, I’ll be paying him a visit myself.
Maybe he should give him a call and let him know about this. A visit from the man they tried to kill might liven up this party.
Sandy slipped away and headed down to the end of the block to check the name of the street so he could leave the address on the Savior’s voicemail.
If nothing was going to happen on its own, maybe Sandy could make something happen.