John’s throat was dry. “What last time?” he croaked, but he knew what the man was talking about.
“When you killed the Coven leaders. What would you have told the police?”
“I told Captain Card…who wasn’t—”
“No, he wasn’t a policeman, but he kept you from sounding like a madman or perhaps a psychopath.”
“But the bodies weren’t even there when I took him down the—how the hell do you know about that?”
The man ignored the question and pointed to the turn- off for Route 107 North toward Salem. John got onto 107 and waited until they were at cruising speed, safely tucked into the right lane, then he turned his head. “Okay, enough bullshit. Who are you?”
The priest looked at him, his bright blue eyes calm and guileless. “Father Rupert Faust.”
Turning his eyes back to the road, John shook
