“I know that the Lord resides in me,” Percival said. “I know what the Lord shares with me.”

“Lord always been there?” Virgil said.

“He is always there in all of us,” Percival said. “But many of us deny him.”

He looked sort of pointedly, I thought, at me and Virgil.

“Didn’t realize he was there,” I said.

“I denied him, at first,” Percival said. “There was a time when I denied God, when I lived a life of the physical self, when I drank, when I committed fornication, when I relied on violence. But God would not be denied. He battered my defenses. He forced himself upon me until we have become one.”

“You and God?” I said.

“Yes.”

“One thing?” I said.

“Yes.”

“You and God being one thing,” I said. “Must be pretty hard to think anything you do is wrong.”

“The Lord governs me in all things,” Percival said.

“He tell you to keep Choctaw Brown on the payroll?” Virgil said.

“As you must know, there is no payroll,” Percival said. “Choctaw came to me, as I had been. He came from a life of dissipation and cruelty. He said he wanted to be saved. We welcomed him to the brotherhood.”

“He saved?” I said.

“He is.”

“Still wearing a Colt,” Virgil said.

“I told you we are militant Christians,” Percival said. “We will not allow those who have not been saved to do us harm.”

“I guess probably I ain’t been saved yet,” Virgil said. “But I don’t want you touching that girl.”

“To accuse me is to accuse the Lord, who abides in me.”

“Seems to be the case,” Virgil said.

Percival seemed to get taller as he stood in front of us. He folded his big arms across his wide chest.

“You can’t accuse me,” Percival said.

His voice was firm but not very loud.

“Because of the Lord?” I said.

“We are one,” Percival said. “You cannot accuse us.”

Virgil looked at Percival for a while, the way you’d look at an odd insect you’d found. Percival stood with his arms still folded like he was going to give the Sermon on the Mount. Then he turned and stalked out of the room.

As we walked back to the sheriff’s office, Virgil said, “You believe any of that?”

“Sure,” I said. “Like I believe the world’s flat.”

“Looks flat,” Virgil said.

“But it ain’t.”

“Can’t prove it ain’t,” Virgil said.

“You believe what Percival’s saying?”

Virgil shook his head.

“I think he’d fuck a snake if you held it for him,” Virgil said.

“You think he believes what he’s saying?” I said.

“He might,” Virgil said.

“Think he’s been bothering the women?” I said.

“Something you mentioned,” Virgil said. “You mentioned that if he thought God was in him and he was, you know, part of God, and God was part of him, then he’d feel pretty good about doing anything he wanted.”

“Anything God does is the right thing to do,” I said.

“You think he thinks he’s God?”

“Might,” I said.

“That’s disappointing,” Virgil said.

“ ’Cause you thought you were?”

“Still do,” Virgil said. “Just don’t like it that Percival thinks different.”

“So we know it,” I said.

“Can’t prove it,” Virgil said.

“Mary Beth saying so ain’t enough?”

“Nope,” Virgil said. “Too drunk.”

“We could shoot him anyway, just to be safe,” I said.

“Can’t do that,” Virgil said. “Got to know.”

“How you gonna know?” I said.

“Gotta ask the girl,” he said.

ALLIE BROUGHT LAUREL down to the office.

“She got anything to say about Percival,” Virgil said, “better to ask her here.”

Allie sat with Laurel on the couch. I leaned on the doorjamb. Virgil moved his chair to the couch and sat down in front of Laurel.

“You remember me, Virgil,” he said.

She might have nodded.

“I need to ask you some questions about Brother Percival. And I need you to tell me the answers.”

She stared at him as if he hadn’t spoken.

“I can whisper to you,” Virgil said. “And you can whisper back to me if you want to, but I need you to help me with this.”

“Go ahead, honey,” Allie said. “You can do it. It’s important.”

Laurel showed no sign that she heard.

Virgil sat quietly for a time. No one can be as quiet as Virgil Cole, when he wanted to be quiet.

After a little time, he said, “Allie, you and Everett wait outside.”

Allie looked at Laurel.

“You all right with that, honey,” she said.

“We’ll be okay,” Virgil said.

Again, Laurel might have nodded. I opened the office door and stood aside. Allie didn’t seem pleased. But she stood and went out. I followed her and closed the door. We stood near the front window and watched. Virgil took off his hat and put it on the desk behind him. Then he leaned forward and put his face next to Laurel’s and whispered something. He waited. She was motionless. He leaned forward again and whispered and then put his ear next to her lips. The two of them sat that way, with their heads together, Virgil’s hands folded in his lap. I could see that he was whispering.

“What is he doing?” Allie said.

“Whispering,” I said.

“I don’t know if she should be left alone with a man after what happened to her,” Allie said.

“Don’t seem to mind,” I said.

“And Virgil did rescue her,” Allie said.

“All by himself,” I said.

“No, you know what I mean.”

“Virgil was in charge,” I said.

“Virgil’s always in charge,” Allie said.

“True,” I said.

“How’s he know to whisper to her?” Allie said.

“Virgil knows things,” I said.

“How’s he know it’s the right thing to do?”

“Virgil always knows what he’s doing is the right thing to do,” I said. “ ’Cept when it ain’t, and he knows that, too.”

“I guess I still don’t understand him,” Allie said.

“Nothing to understand,” I said. “Virgil don’t never pretend.”

We watched the whispered pantomime through the office window. Laurel was still motionless, her head and Virgil’s close together. I couldn’t tell if she was making any response. But she hadn’t pulled away. I realized that while their heads were close together, Virgil was not touching Laurel.

“I don’t know anyone like him,” Allie said. “Do you?”

“You don’t get to be Virgil Cole,” I said, “being like other folks.”

In the office I saw Virgil nod his head. Then Laurel nodded hers. They still had their heads close to each other.

“Jesus,” I said. “I think they’re talking.”

“My God,” Allie said.

Virgil nodded again. And waited. And nodded again. And whispered. Laurel nodded. Virgil nodded slowly and kept it up, as if Laurel was saying things he agreed with. Then she leaned forward and put her face against his neck and cried. Virgil sat quietly. He didn’t make any move to touch her.

“I better get in there,” Allie said.

“No,” I said.

“She’s crying,” Allie said.

I blocked the doorway.

“No,” I said.

She couldn’t get by me, and she knew it. So we turned back to the window. Inside, Virgil sat quietly while Laurel cried. After a time she stopped and raised her head and sat back. Virgil sat back, too. He reached behind him to the desk and picked up his hat. He put it on and adjusted it, and nodded once at Laurel.

She smiled at him.

“Did she smile?” Allie said.

“Yes,” I said.

He stood and came to the door and opened it.

“We’re done in here,” Virgil said.

“She spoke?” Allie said.

“Yes.”

“What did she say?” Allie said.

“I promised I wouldn’t tell,” Virgil said.

Allie looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. Laurel stood.

Virgil said, “I’ll come by. We’ll take a walk.”

Laurel nodded.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Virgil said.

Laurel nodded.

He looked at Allie.

“Stay with her,” he said.

“I will,” Allie said. “I do.”