DeMarco held it in his palm, watching the moonlight shimmer off the talisman as he moved his hand. Finally, becoming aware of the not-exactly-silent return of his men, he replaced Sarah's shoe, got to his feet, and slipped the medallion into his pocket.

"That bastard weighed a ton," Brian informed DeMarco as they joined him in the clearing, still huffing from the effort.

"I doubt you'll have the same problem with her," DeMarco told him.

Fisk said, "We're lucky that the river's deep and the current moving fast right now, but is it smart to keep using it for disposal?"

"No, the smart thing would be to make sure disposal isn't necessary," DeMarco told him, his tone not so much critical as it was icy.

Brian sent him a wary look, then said quickly to Fisk, "You get her legs and I'll get her shoulders."

Fisk, who had locked eyes with DeMarco, didn't respond for a moment. Then he said, "Just help me get her over my shoulder. She's not bloody and I can manage her alone."

Brian didn't argue. He didn't, in fact, say another word until Fisk was on his way back to the river, the small, limp body over his shoulder clearly not a burden.

"Reese, he's a good man," Brian said then.

"Is he? We lost Ellen under his watch. Now Sarah and the girl. And I don't believe in coincidence, Brian."

"Look, I'm sure Father doesn't blame Carl."

"Father has other things to occupy his mind these days. My job is to protect him and the congregation. My job is to worry about anomalies. And Fisk is a worry."

Unhappily, Brian said, "Okay, I get you. I'll keep an eye on him, Reese."

"Do that. And report anything unusual. Anything, Brian."

"Right. Right. Copy that."

They waited in silence for Fisk to return, with DeMarco staring down at the dark glimmer of blood slowly freezing on the cold ground.