a tiny headline in the local paper read, followed by a single paragraph: “Services were held today for Charlotte Harrigan, twenty-five, at the Glorification Church. Mrs. Harrigan, a native of New York City, had been a recent convert to the Church. She died over the weekend of accidental drowning.” Shaking his head in disgust and frustration, Sheriff Moore balled the page in his fists and flipped it into the trashcan where it lay amid the Styrofoam cups and ashtray leavings. He had not expected nor wished for more accurate coverage. They had cremated her. Everybody in the county played the game and there was no question in his mind that the Glories were set to buy up the local paper from the Kildare family, who had owned it for three generations. The Glories take over, one step at a time. Soon they would own the whole county, just as they owned him. No sense wallowing in remorse. It was too late for that now. The Glories had tarnished them all, and those they could not control they bought.
