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Chapters (41)
  1. Dexter in the Darkby Jeff Lindsay
  2. IN THE BEGINNING
  3. ONE
  4. TWO
  5. THREE
  6. FOUR
  7. FIVE
  8. SIX
  9. SEVEN
  10. EIGHT
  11. NINE
  12. TEN
  13. ELEVEN
  14. TWELVE
  15. THIRTEEN
  16. FOURTEEN
  17. FIFTEEN
  18. SIXTEEN
  19. SEVENTEEN
  20. EIGHTEEN
  21. NINETEEN
  22. TWENTY
  23. TWENTY-ONE
  24. TWENTY-TWO
  25. TWENTY-THREE
  26. TWENTY-FOUR
  27. TWENTY-FIVE
  28. TWENTY-SIX
  29. TWENTY-SEVEN
  30. TWENTY-EIGHT
  31. TWENTY-NINE
  32. THIRTY
  33. THIRTY-ONE
  34. THIRTY-TWO
  35. THIRTY-THREE
  36. THIRTY-FOUR
  37. THIRTY-FIVE
  38. THIRTY-SIX
  39. THIRTY-SEVEN
  40. THIRTY-EIGHT
  41. THIRTY-NINE

Well, it was nice to have an answer, even if it wasn't the one I was looking for. I hadn't really expected Reverend Gilles to pull out a grimoire and cast a spell, but I admit it was a little disappointing. "All right, then," I said. "Any other questions?" he asked me with a very satisfied smile. "About our church, or anything about the ceremony?"

"Why, no," I said. "It seems very straightforward."
"We like to think so," he said. "As long as we put Christ first, everything else falls into place." "Amen," I said brightly. Rita gave me a bit of a look, but the reverend seemed to accept it.

"All right, then," he said, and he stood up and held out his hand, "June twenty-fourth it is." I stood up, too, and shook his hand. "But I expect to see you here before then," he said. "We have a great contemporary service at ten o'clock every Sunday." He winked and gave my hand an extra-manly squeeze. "Gets you home in time for the football game."

"That's terrific," I said, thinking how nice it is when a business anticipates the needs of its customers. He dropped my hand and grabbed Rita, wrapping her up in a full embrace. "Rita," he said. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you," Rita sobbed into his shoulder. She leaned against him for a moment longer and snuffled, and then stood upright again, rubbing her nose and looking at me. "Thank you, Dexter," she said. For what I don't know, but it's always nice to be included.

TWENTY-NINE

F OR THE FIRST TIME IN QUITE A WHILE I WAS ACTUALLY anxious to get back to my cubicle. Not because I was pining for blood spatter-but because of the idea that had descended on me in Reverend Gilles's study. Demonic possession. It had a certain ring to it. I had never really felt possessed, although Rita was certainly staking her claim. But it was at least some kind of explanation with a degree of history attached, and I was very eager to pursue it.

First I checked my answering machine and e-mail: no messages except a routine departmental memo on cleaning up the coffee area. No abject apology from Debs, either. I made a few careful calls and found that she was out trying to round up Kurt Wagner, which was a relief, since it meant she wasn't following me.