He also realized something big had happened and followed Vice Bishop Uriah to the side.
At this moment, in the center of the spacious inner hall stood an ordinary rectangular ceremonial table.
A headless body stood there.
Blood flowed in silence.
On the table, next to a rustling alarm clock, was a head.
A head still frozen in the smile it wore before death.
Uriah recognized the owner of the head.
It was Drew Miller, the Vice Bishop in charge of security at the Golden Palm Beach Club.
Just that morning, he had been laughing and joking with the man.
Now, he was on the table.
RUSTLE!
RUSTLE!
The anxious Francis stole a couple of glances at the alarm clock that was making the strange noise.
It had an antiquated design with a twin-bell alarm, a classic style from perhaps forty or fifty years ago.
Its iron casing was flecked with spots of rust.
The peculiar rustling seemed to echo deep within his soul.
The longer he looked, the paler his face became.
