Page 113 of Forever Dark
A small sound came from Arnold then, almost like he’d forgotten to breathe quietly.
Connor did not look away.“Flock.”
“That’s what we are.”
“You hear yourself?”
“I hearyou,” Ruth Ann said.“You’re frightened because you can’t tell the difference between faith and obedience.”
Connor felt something cold settle at the base of his spine.
This was no longer a room full of lonely believers or county oddballs finding comfort under canvas.Something in the center of it had hardened past that.Maybe not in all of them, but in enough.
“Did Croft tell you to say this?”Connor asked.
“He doesn’t have to tell the faithful how to love him.”
That was enough.
Connor put his notebook away.“If you think of anything useful, you call the office.”
Ruth Ann inclined her head.“I won’t.My communication is with the Holy Spirit.”
Outside, the porch boards creaked under their boots.The sun had gone low enough to turn the pines black at the edges.Arnold walked all the way to the SUV before speaking.
“Sheriff?”
Connor opened his door.
“That lady was nuts.Can we call it a day?”
Connor looked back at the house.Ruth Ann still stood in the doorway, one hand resting lightly on the frame, not waving, not moving, just watching them leave.
“Yeah,” he said quietly.“But I don’t think nuts covers it.”
Arnold followed his gaze.“What do you think it is?”
Connor got in and started the engine, but for a second, he did not put the SUV in gear.
Four interviews.Three eccentrics.One fanatic.All of them circling the same center.Protecting the same man.Speaking about him in tones that had less to do with worship than surrender.
By the time he pulled away from the ridge, one thought had begun to press harder than the rest.
This wasn’t just a religious congregation.
It was starting to look like a cult.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Morning in the motel room came in weak and colorless through the curtains.She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep.
Selena stood at the sink in the tiny bathroom with one hand braced on the counter, brushing her teeth while the tap dripped in a slow, irregular rhythm.The mirror above the basin had gone cloudy at the edges years ago.It reflected a woman who looked sharper than she felt.Hair pinned back.Jacket laid out on the bed.Gun holstered and ready.Face composed enough for work.
Inside, things were less tidy.
She had not slept well.The motel mattress had folded under her in the middle, and every time she drifted off, she had seen some version of the same thing.Tara Brennan in the silo.Croft’s calm face across the interrogation table.Connor in the parking lot, saying he was trying to help her be right.
What is happening?she thought.She felt like something was eroding at her spirit.Something that was slowly but surely seeping into her soul and casting dark shadows there.She wondered if it was Harlan County itself or just her guilt for leaving it behind.
