“I’ve got to get back out to the site,” Sheriff Rockwell said. There was no need for her to specify which site. In Doraville, there was only one.

“Well, then…” The new visitor was as tentative as Simpson was self-assured. He was a small man, about five foot eight, pale and thin, with clear skin and the smile of a happy baby. He shook hands with our two outgoing visitors before he gave his attention to us.

“I’m Pastor Doak Garland,” he said, and we went through the handshaking ritual again. I was getting tired just from greeting people. “I serve Mount Ida Baptist Church, over on Route 114. I’m on chaplain duty here at the hospital this week. The local ministers take it in turn, and you folks were unlucky enough to get me.” He smiled angelically.

“I’m Tolliver Lang, and I accompany this lady, Harper Connelly. She finds bodies.”

Doak Garland cast a quick glance down at his feet, as if to conceal his reaction to this unusual introduction. What the hell was going on with Tolliver?

“Yes, sir, I heard of you-all,” the preacher said. “I’m Twyla Cotton’s pastor, and she especially asked me to come by. We’re going to have a special prayer service tomorrow night, and if you should happen to be out of the hospital by then, we hope you’ll attend. This is a special invitation, from our hearts. We are so glad to know what’s happened to young Jeff. There comes a point when knowing, whether good or bad, is more important than not knowing.”

I agreed with this completely. I nodded.

“Since you-all were instrumental in finding poor Jeff, we were hoping you would come, if you’re well enough. I won’t lie and say we don’t wonder about this special talent you have, and it seems to pass our understanding, but you’ve used it for the greater glory of God and to comfort our sister Twyla, and Parker, Bethalynn, and little Carson. We want to say thank you.”

On behalf of God? I tried not to smile openly because he was so sincere and seemed so vulnerable. “I appreciate your taking the time to come by the hospital to invite me,” I said, filling in time while I thought of a way to refuse the invitation.

Tolliver said, “If the doctor says Harper can leave the hospital tomorrow, you can count on us coming.”

Well, an alien had possessed him. That was the only conclusion I could draw.

Doak Garland seemed a bit surprised, but he said gamely, “That’s just what I wanted to hear. We’ll see you at seven o’clock tomorrow night. If you need directions, just give me a call.” He whipped a card out of his pocket in a surprisingly professional way and handed it to Tolliver.

“Thank you,” said Tolliver, and I could only say “Thanks” myself.