I glanced over at the dead woman. Whoever had broken her neck had laid her out on the bench as if she were sleeping. She was wearing a long, blue-flowered challis skirt and a white blouse. Her skirt had been neatly tucked around black boots whose soles were encrusted with red clay. And she had to be young from the appearance of the coppery mass of hair cascading to the floor.

Damn. I shivered.

I was about to return to the white sales at Bed Bath & Beyond when Mary Alice announced that the 911 people would be there in a few minutes. And did I know where the nearest hospital was?

“Oneonta?” I guessed. “Gadsden?” I pressed my fingers against Luke’s pulse again. Was it my imagination or was it thready? “I hope not far. I think Luke’s going into shock. Bring me your cape. We’ve got to get him warm.”

“It’ll get blood on it.”

“Damn it, Sister!”

She came down the aisle slowly and sideways so she wouldn’t see the woman’s body.

“He doesn’t look good, does he?” she said, handing me the cape. “Luke? You okay?” She yelled the latter as if deafness were Luke’s problem.

I took the cape, spread it over Luke, and added my coat.

“He came in while the murderer was still here, didn’t he? And the murderer tried to kill him.”

“I doubt it.” I pointed toward the woman. “I think she’s been dead awhile. Look at her hand hanging over the bench. It’s almost black. I don’t know what you call that, but it’s got a name, where the blood seeps down to the lowest part.”

Sister turned green and dashed from the church again. Served her right.

Luke opened his eyes and then closed them again. I rubbed his arms and hands. I needed something to elevate his legs. Hymnals, I thought. But there weren’t any in the church.

From a distance there was the welcome sound of a siren. Then it died out. And then I heard it again. Coming up the mountain, I realized, the hairpin curves breaking the sound.

The door opened.

“They’re coming,” Sister announced. “I’ll flag them down.”

The sound was steady now. They were crossing the Horse Pens plateau, beginning their descent toward the church. And then they were pulling into the driveway where I could hear Sister yelling, “This way!”

I held Luke’s hand and waited.

Three large men dressed in uniforms rushed through the door and then stopped so suddenly they almost fell over each other.

“Lady, you by yourself?” one of them asked.

“What?”

“The snakes up?”

“We’re not coming no farther less they are,” a second one said.

“What are you talking about? There’s a hurt man here and a dead woman.”

“No snakes?”

“Of course not. What’s the matter with you?”