“It was nothing unusual.” I held my hands behind my back to conceal the trembling. “I got him to agree to see a psychiatrist, but then I think I blew it.”

He didn’t ask me how. I don’t think he even heard what I said. I sat down and picked up the Ashland newspaper. After a while I managed to read that the Sheriff had mounted an all-out effort to solve the murder of Stephanie Weber. Several members of a Cainesville motorcycle gang had been questioned and more members were being rounded up.

Shortly thereafter Father Jackson called. He had spoken with his brother, and Dr. Jackson would be willing to see Duff. Moreover, he was willing to come to Cainesville the next weekend. Could Father Jackson bring him to our house?

I didn’t think that was a good idea since Duff was so upset. I told him to take his brother to a Cainesville motel and I’d pay for the room. Then I’d do my best to get Duff there.

“There’s something else,” Father Jackson said. “I’m con­vinced now that you really did see a horse and rider on the road last night. I checked with the local grange and got the names of farmers who have riding horses. The fourth one I called owns a horse that fits the description of the one you saw. The man lives on Sycamore Road—that’s just east of your road—and listen to this. He says his horse was taken out of his barn last night and returned early this morning.”

“Could I see the horse?”

“I was going to suggest it. I’ll pick you up again in the morning and we’ll go over there.” He paused. “Your husband is going to think we’re having an affair.”

“Good,” I said. “I hope he does.”

“What’s that about a horse?” Jack yelled from the front room.

“I’m thinking of buying one.”

“Great. It’ll be good exercise for you. Who was on the phone?”

“My lover.”

“It was the priest, wasn’t it? That’s a fine thing to say about a priest.”

I went upstairs. Duff’s bedroom door was closed, so I went to the storeroom. He wasn’t there, but his notebook was on top of the pile of books where I had found it the last time.

He seemed to have written several more pages. Had he left it again for me to read? Then I heard the front door slam and Franny’s voice. There was no time to read the book, but I decided to take a quick look for the coffin and also a stairs to the third floor.