Sherry stood. His voice moaned through her skull like a howling wind. She saw that Father Teuwen was already on his feet, gripping his chair with one hand. “Ask a few questions? Heavens, you sound like the jungle patrol or something, popping in to ask a few questions. Where on earth did you come from?”

The man shifted his dark gaze to Sherry for a moment, and then back to the priest. He looked suddenly lost, she thought. As if he’d crossed over from another dimension and mistakenly opened their door. She noted that her pulse raced and she assured herself that the man meant no harm.

“I’m sorry, perhaps I should leave,” he said.

“No. You cannot leave, man!” the priest objected quickly. “Look at you. It’s night out there! A bit dangerous, don’t you think?” He paused, catching himself. “But then I suppose you already know that. You look like you’ve just spent the day in the jungle.”

For a moment the man did not respond and Sherry thought he had indeed made a mistake and was now looking for a graceful exit. A hunter perhaps. But what would a hunter be doing running around barefoot at night? The whole thing was preposterous.

“Perhaps I’ve made a mistake by coming here,” the man said. “I should leave.”

The father stepped up beside Sherry now. “This is a Catholic mission,” the priest said evenly. “I’m sure you know that. I’m the priest here—I think I have the right to know the identity of a man who calls on my door in the middle of the night, don’t you?”

The man’s arms still hung loosely at his sides, and Sherry noted that the knuckles on his right hand were red with blood. Perhaps he was a drug runner, or a mercenary. Her pulse quickened.

“I’m sorry. I should leave.” He shifted his feet.

“And why do you insist on withholding your identity, sir?” Father Teuwen asked. “I will have to report this, of course.”

That stopped the man. He eyed the priest long and hard. “And if I tell you who I am, you won’t report me?”

So the man was on the run! A fugitive. Sherry’s pulse quickened again. She glanced at Father Teuwen and saw that he was grinning knowingly.

“That would depend on what you tell me, young man. But right now I can tell you that I’m imagining the worst. And if you tell me nothing, I will report what I imagine.”

The stranger slowly smiled.

THE MOMENT the priest stood, Casius knew coming here had been a mistake and he cursed himself.