Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 465(@200wpm)___ 372(@250wpm)___ 310(@300wpm)
“A Ford Explorer?” I was confused.
“A police car,” Lorne clarified.
I immediately turned to look at the priest through the partition. “You were arrested in college?”
“There were issues, as there still are now, that one must protest. Such as the right for you and your beloved to be wed.”
And suddenly I felt warm and fuzzy toward Lorne instead of murderous toward his legion of admirers. When he reached out to take hold of my hand, I felt everything settle inside me. “I’m sorry I was jealous.”
“That’s okay.” He glanced at me before returning his gaze to the road. “I get a bit jealous myself watching the tourists chat you up on those town tours you give.”
I scoffed. “You mean the ones I don’t bore to death.”
“No matter what Malachi Gant says,” Father Dennis chimed in, “most of the history of Osprey is, in fact, a snooze fest.”
“Truer words,” Lorne grumbled.
“May I ask a law-enforcement question?”
“Father, I can’t really comment on Kathy Hayes’s death until—”
“Oh no,” he said quickly. “I wanted to ask after the folks Pete ticketed in town last evening—the ones throwing rocks.”
“What about them?”
“I feel like you might want to consider turning those tickets into warnings.”
“Why would I do that, Father?”
“Because right now, as far as I can tell from all the parishioners I’ve talked to, everyone in town is suffering from the same malady.”
Lorne pulled over, parking on the side of the road before turning around in his seat to look at the priest. “And what is that, Father?”
He took a quick breath. “I know this is going to sound like something simple, but I can assure you it’s not. Almost everyone who’s come to church is exhausted and suffering from insomnia brought on by terrible recurring nightmares.”
“Almost everyone?” I asked, worried. “I don’t mean to doubt you, Father, but almost everyone seems like a lot.”
“And yet, that is the correct assessment,” Father Dennis insisted. “No one is sleeping, and because of that, there’s an increase in aggressiveness and anger. I’m certain the fighting at the carnival can be attributed to the rampant insomnia as well.”
“You’re serious?” Lorne asked him.
“Absolutely,” he confirmed. “That business meeting going off the rails, Diana and Ken going after Troy, the yelling in the streets, it can all be traced back to lack of sleep accumulating over time.”
“How much time are we talking about?”
Father Dennis was quiet for a moment, thinking. “I would say it’s been steadily worsening over the last two weeks, give or take a couple of days.”
Lorne glanced at me.
“And you know, the few parishioners I’ve visited at the hospital in Jamestown have all said the same thing to me—that they’re so happy to finally be getting some sleep.”
“In a hospital?”
He nodded. “Yes. Imagine that.”
“Are you sleeping?”
“I am. Soundly,” he reported. “As are you, I assume?”
“Yeah,” Lorne agreed. “I wonder if people are having some allergic reaction to something blooming right now or—”
“This is the middle of summer,” Father Dennis reminded him. “Everything has bloomed already. I mean, certainly we could put in a call to the CDC or some other agency to come and test our water, the vegetables grown in town, and a myriad of other things, but I suspect that by the time they get around to a full investigation, the problem will already be solved.”
“And what leads you to that conclusion?” Lorne asked.
Father Dennis grimaced.
I smiled at him. “You think it’s something paranormal.”
“I didn’t say that,” he said, sounding exasperated.
“But you think whatever is screwing with everyone’s sleep is—”
“And there it is,” he told me. “Because it’s not everyone, is it?”
“No.”
“It’s not me, Abbott Leung, Rabbi Katz, Amanda Sterling or her family, whom I saw early this morning at the farmers’ market. Troy and Rita are well and as kind as they always are, as is Delia. Lorne’s brother, his daughter, both fine, sleeping well. I can name another thirty people easily that I’ve chatted with about this in the last couple of days.”
“You’ve been checking up on a lot of folks,” I stated.
“I’m a priest, Xander. It’s part of the gig.”
I smiled at him.
“But again, Charles and Allie on their farm at the end of your street, along with their boys, all fine.”
It made sense, as the wards on Corvus protected my neighbors’ properties and kept whatever sleeping plague the demon had brought with it to Osprey away from their doors.
Lynette had something in the house with her that was scaring her and keeping her awake at night. She too had been suffering from nightmares. JJ had bad dreams as well when they tried to sleep at their friend’s house.
“People who can’t rest will eventually go mad,” Father Dennis pronounced. “We need to get to the bottom of whatever this is.”
“Well, guess what, Father, you are talking to the two people most prepared to not only take you seriously, but whom you can help as well.”