Ollie sits across a pine table from newspaperman Thomas Sharp. It is not the icy wind whistling through the cracked window pane that causes Ollie to shiver; it is the harrowing tale being spun by the editor of the Warsaw Signal. “Since the death of your friend Horace Carter, you’ve been living in terror,” Ollie summarizes as Sharp stops his monologue to sip his coffee. “Unfortunately, I can’t prove that the Mormons were responsible for his death, though I’ve tried.” “You could be wrong.” “You don’t know these people the way I do. Horace was a Mormon, then left the Faith. This is unforgiveable to them. Their secret Avenging Angels track down apostates and spill their blood on the soil, believing that only this can redeem their traitorous souls in the eyes of God.” “If they are the murderous lot you make them out to be, why have they not killed you?
