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believer in this
     family.”
    Buck continued to look at Gavin for a long, silent moment, his expression giving nothing away. He finally closed his eyes
     and spoke. “So in hindsight, you’ve come up with a more reasonable explanation for what happened?”
    Careful now,
Gavin thought. Being honest with Buck might juststop the beep machine from beeping. “Not… really,” he said, immediately wishing he hadn’t.
    “But you no longer believe there is a demon imprisoned in the tortoise?”
    “It’s a lot to ask, Buck.”
    “There’s a lot at risk, Detective,” Buck said, then paused to catch his breath. “We are engaged in a constant, relentless
     war that I can’t fight in this condition. My time has…”
    As Buck continued, Gavin focused less on what he was saying and more on that steel-eyed glare that could send shivers down
     the spine of a grizzly bear. The same glare he’d had when he commanded the supposed demon into the tortoise. What kind of
     suggestive power—or better put, hypnotic influence—did this old black preacher possess? If Gavin stayed around this guy any
     longer, he would probably go back to believing this… this nonsense. That’s what it was. The more he thought about it, the
     crazier it sounded. He didn’t want to think about it, or how he’d ever been convinced enough to go along with the charade
     in the first place. That had been a different time, full of rage over Grampa’s death, chasing a serial killer who had the
     whole city guessing. A time when fears of terrorism had been raw and new. He’d been vulnerable and looking for answers anywhere
     he could find them, and it was just his dumb luck that Amy had come up with the Reverend Buck as a lead. And Amy… Wasn’t
     it bad enough that Amy believed it and was now worrying herself sick
and
probably the baby, too, through some maternal connection?
    “… and if we let down our guard and fall into complacency, the ground we have gained will be lost, and need I remind you what
     that would mean?” Buck went on, but Gavin was not really listening. He had heard this warning so many times before that it
     all seemed like one long, never-ending sentence.
    “Why don’t you just give me names of some other people,Buck? People who have faith like you. People who can pray the way you need them to. I’ll make sure they know your story.”
    “But you’ve seen with your own eyes, Detective. No one else will have the faith or the urgency.”
    Gavin wanted to roll his eyes at this urgency he was supposed to share with Buck. Urgency, if anything, was what he was trying
     to get Amy away from. “What have I seen with my own eyes, Buck? I’ve seen fear, sickness, murder, pain—in every color of the
     rainbow. Are you gonna tell me it’s all from demons?”
    “No! I never said that. People sin. Sometimes badly, without any help from demons. Sickness happens, and so does fear. I’m
     afraid of something every day. Jesus was afraid in the Garden of Gethse-mane, and who knows when else? A storm doesn’t need
     a demon to become a hurricane. But make no mistake, Detective… demons are real. The world is full of them. And there is one
     named Krogan, whose path we’ve crossed.”
    “And my prayers will keep him away?”
    Buck looked up at the ceiling, then whispered, “The Good Shepherd protects His sheep.”
    “Sheep?”
    “Completely dependent beings, Detective. We all are. We ask and we receive. Ask in faith. The prayer of faith is a key to
     lock and unlock doors.”
    “Faith. I have no faith. You’re the one with all the faith, Buck. I’m just a cop looking to mind my own business.”
    “And I’m just an old, sick dairy farmer. Unfortunately, this
is
your business, and if you don’t mind it, it will fold in on you. Faith builds faith just as lies build doubt. Don’t allow
     the enemy to lie to you.”
    You’re the enemy,
Gavin almost said. He noticed the beeping machine picking up its pace and thought for a second