Free Dance with the Devil by Dean Koontz Page A

occupied the central position of venerability. Hanging from each of the crossarms was a dead dog. Both dogs had been gutted from throat to hind-quarters, and their blood had been splashed over everything. That and the fat, black candles that had been stuck at a few points on the altar and were now mostly disfigured stumps was clue enough as to what had transpired here: the cultists again.
        When Michael touched her and called her name soothingly, she screamed and jumped nearly a foot. He put his arm around her and drew her to him, forcibly turned her away from the altar. He said, “Don't look at it, Katherine.”
        She followed his suggestion and was facing the rear of the church when she said, “Two times in two days.,. It's almost as if they put this here for us-for me to find.”
        “Nonsense,” he said.
        She gagged into her handkerchief, then began coughing uncontrollably. Tears came to her eyes and rolled down her cheeks. In the vestibule to which he had slowly been leading her, she said, “But in just two days, I've-”
        “Had some very bad luck,” he finished for her. “Nothing more than that.” But his face was pale.
        “Where was the minister when they were doing this?” she asked.
        “The church doesn't have a resident clergyman,” he explained, still holding her, steadying her. “Our minister travels between four area churches.”
        “What should we do?”
        “I'll talk to the constable right away,” he said. “Those things can be taken down quickly enough, before the whole grisly story gets around town and draws a crowd. One thing is certain. Now, maybe they'll realize how close to home this stinking business hits. When their own church has been violated, maybe they'll feel like doing something for a change, no matter how much Lydia and Alex ridicule the notion that these cultists are dangerous.”
        “Can we go now?” she asked, thinking of the sacrificial animals hanging in the church behind her.
        “Yes,” he said. He turned her to him and kissed her squarely on the lips. “You're a strong-hearted girl to have taken all that without fainting.”
        Strangely, the simple fact of his kiss did a great deal toward ameliorating the worst of the scene's impression. She wondered why she should find such solace in a kiss and why, after having just met him, she should react to him so quickly, be so pleased with him. But now was not the time for the answers to those questions. She said, “I may faint yet if you don't get me out of here.”
        He pushed open the church door and helped her down the steps into the cold afternoon air. “We'll go directly to the constable,” he said. “I'm going to set fire under his apathetic tail.”

CHAPTER 6
        
        She retired early that night, showered, dressed for bed and lay down to sort out the events of the long and complicated day, trying to put them into some reasonable perspective. She was close to exhaustion, but she felt that she had to come to terms with the rather unpleasant developments and decide what she was going to do next-remain in Owlsden as Lydia's secretary and try to weather these strange events, or leave soon and search for another job that might be far less remunerative but easier on the nerves.
        One of the first things the constable had done was to call the Bolands and let them know that the Satanists had not only been at work again, but had violated the very church they attended regularly and which Lydia's father had planned and constructed with his own funds. In an hour, thanks to the quick work of the plow that had opened the road that morning and early afternoon, Lydia and Alex were there to look over the damage and assess the insanity of those who had been responsible. Throughout the re-examination of the church, Katherine had noticed a smug look on the constable's face. He was a thin, dark little man named Cartier, and he was not good at disguising an