“Max Clinter.” He began to relate what the man had told him, but he noticed the time on the clock. “Sorry, it’s later than I thought. I need to be in Sasparilla at nine forty-five.”

“And I’m on my way to the bathroom.”

A few minutes later, he called in to her that he was leaving. She called out for him to be careful.

“Love you,” he said.

“Love you,” she said.

Five minutes after that, when he was about a mile down the mountain road, he saw a Priority Mail truck coming up toward him. There were only two other houses between that point and his own, both occupied mainly on weekends, meaning that the delivery was probably for him or for Madeleine. He pulled over and waved as he got out of his car.

The driver stopped, recognized him, retrieved a Priority envelope from the back of the truck, and handed it to him. After the exchange of a few commiserating words about the too-chilly spring, the driver departed and Gurney opened the envelope, which was addressed to him.

Inside the outer envelope was a plain manila envelope, which he also opened, extracting a single sheet of paper. He read:

Greed spreads in a family like septic blood in bathwater. It infects everyone it touches. Therefore the wives and children you hold up as objects of sorrow and pity shall also be cut down. The children of greed are evil, and evil are those whom they embrace. Therefore they, too, shall be cut down. Whomsoever you hold up for the fools of the world to console, they all shall be cut down, whether related by blood or by marriage to the children of greed.

To consume the product of greed is to consume its stain. The fruit leaves its mark. The beneficiaries of greed bear the guilt of greed, and they must bear its punishment. They will die in the spotlight of your praise. Your praise shall be their undoing. Your pity is a poison. Your sympathy condemns them to death.

Can you not see the truth? Have you gone blind?

The world has gone mad. Greed masquerades as laudable ambition. Wealth pretends to be proof of talent and worth. The channels of communication have fallen into the hands of monsters. The worst of the worst are exalted.

With devils in pulpits and angels ignored, it falls to the honest to punish what the mad world rewards.

These are the true and final words of the Good Shepherd.

Chapter 35

Invitation to the Party

As Gurney turned onto Route 7, the main road through Sasparilla, his phone rang. The ID said it was Kyle, but the voice was Kim’s.

The guilt and anger of the previous day’s call had been replaced by shock and fear. “Something came a minute ago by rush mail … from him … the Good Shepherd … It talks about people being cut down … people dying.”