Ravens. Part 21

She said, "I want one beer. You're saying that's not OK with you? One c.o.c.ksucking beer?"

He let his left hand drop to where the saber was waiting, between the seat and the door. He curled his fingers around the handle. He could do this. He'd needed inspiration; now he had it. Get me mad enough, b.i.t.c.h, and I'm as dark as any mother-f.u.c.ker on the planet.

"Wynetta. You know what I do for a living?"

"You sell insurance."

"No, I made that up. What I really do is, I'm an angel of vengeance. You know what that means?"

"Uh-uh."

"It means, like, I dole out just deserts. That's my job."

Her mouth was slightly ajar, but not from fear. It was just her normal expression.

He pulled in at the trailer and said, "Shall I make it clear to you?"

"Nah. I got s.h.i.+t of my own to worry about."

She opened the door and got out.

Romeo got out on his side, saber in hand. Keeping it s.h.i.+elded behind his leg as he came around the front of the car. This was the place to strike, out here. Inside would be too cramped. Also Claude was in there with his eyes open, and Romeo knew he could never do this with Claude watching him, even if Claude was dead.

But he could do it out here. Let it happen now. Let this anger take over. Get to that whirling place. He visualized a sharp coppery whoosh whoosh from the blade. Then her shout - then her shout cut short. from the blade. Then her shout - then her shout cut short.

But even as he was conjuring this, she stepped up to the trailer door and said, "Hey, leave me alone with my daddy, OK? I'll handle the ambulance and everything. Thanks for the ride." She went in and shut the door behind her.

The whole time, he just stood there like frozen mud.

Wondering, why hadn't he acted?

Well, for one thing, she wasn't worth it.

There was also the saber. The saber had been such a bad idea. He could have done it with a gun. With a gun you just needed to pull the trigger, but with a saber you had to go leaping and slas.h.i.+ng like a buccaneer and no way was he ready for that.

He stood there for half a minute.

Then he got back in the Tercel and drove off. On Rt. 341 he came to some kind of nursery school, and pulled around to the dumpster in back and tossed the saber. Then he got the scabbard out of the Tercel's trunk and tossed that as well. Thinking, what I need is to kill coldly. To climb out of my soul and kill coldly coldly. How the h.e.l.l did I think I could kill her with a f.u.c.king pirate sword?

SUNDAY.

Burris, as ever, sat six pews behind Nell. As ever, Nell didn't take her own seat till the last moment, but floated from crony to crony, cackling and wisecracking, the loudest most boisterous soul in church. He tried not to look at her, but he was helpless. Her least movement drew his eye. Even while he mumbled h.e.l.lo to his pew mates (they spoke tenderly to him, as he was still a fairly fresh widower), he could see her at the margin of his vision. He leafed through his hymnal, but was aware only of her laugh. He adjusted his tie. He smoothed down the unruly patch of hair on his forehead. He pursed his lips - a thing he often caught himself doing these days, which he hated because it was something an old man would do. Well, he as ever, sat six pews behind Nell. As ever, Nell didn't take her own seat till the last moment, but floated from crony to crony, cackling and wisecracking, the loudest most boisterous soul in church. He tried not to look at her, but he was helpless. Her least movement drew his eye. Even while he mumbled h.e.l.lo to his pew mates (they spoke tenderly to him, as he was still a fairly fresh widower), he could see her at the margin of his vision. He leafed through his hymnal, but was aware only of her laugh. He adjusted his tie. He smoothed down the unruly patch of hair on his forehead. He pursed his lips - a thing he often caught himself doing these days, which he hated because it was something an old man would do. Well, he was was an old man. It was too d.a.m.n hot in here. The air-conditioning couldn't begin to keep up with this crowd. He stole another look. She was chatting with one of the elders, and of course flirting. As ever. But then came a murmur and swiveling of heads, everyone turning because the Boatwright family was coming up the aisle. an old man. It was too d.a.m.n hot in here. The air-conditioning couldn't begin to keep up with this crowd. He stole another look. She was chatting with one of the elders, and of course flirting. As ever. But then came a murmur and swiveling of heads, everyone turning because the Boatwright family was coming up the aisle.

Shaw McBride was with them.

The girl, Tara, was saying something to her mother, and she had her hand on her father's shoulder. Then she murmured some private joke to McBride, which he smiled at. When her little brother lagged too far behind, she went back and took his hand firmly and guided him forward. The whole family seemed to orbit around her. She looked into the pews and nodded to friends and relations. She smiled radiantly at her Uncle Shelby and Aunt Miriam and their kids. She bestowed a kiss on the furry cheek of Mrs. Briggs, her teacher from Glynn Middle School. At last she reached Nell. When those two embraced, it made the whole church feel buoyant, sunny, storybook.

Burris was thinking, could this family really be the target of a hundred-million-dollar extortion scheme?

It sure didn't look that way.

McBride wore an ill-fitting jacket, and seemed shy and uncomfortable. A stranger congratulated him and he gripped the man's hand as though holding on for dear life. He seemed overwhelmed by all this fuss. The last thing you got from him was mastermind of terror. mastermind of terror.

Burris started to worry: had he gotten this all wrong? Had he screwed up again again? He was sweating, and with no handkerchief he had nothing to wipe his brow with but the sleeve of his jacket, and as he raised his arm to do that, he caught a whiff of his own pungency. Dear Lord, he prayed, let this service be over quickly.

But it went on and on, world without end.

First came Rev. Dave's sermon, pumped up with weepy little stories and zings of corny humor. The paris.h.i.+oners sniffling and laughing on cue, shouting out affirmations like this was some kind of real estate seminar. Next, a batch of praise singing. Next, Marie Kingsley had blessings for the infirm and ailing. She read out a list of all the poor souls in hospital, and as always it was a wrenching and horrific tale, and Burris thought, Lord? What's Your purpose again in this? Why exactly do You put us through this every week?

Next, everybody fell to their knees for a round of prayer.

After which three guys from Valdosta, hair piled up softly on top of their heads like haystacks, sang "Awesome G.o.d" and "Hallelujah! (My Chains Are Gone)."

Knees again.

And all this time, Burris noticed, no one so much as mentioned the recent deluge of gold.

No one alluded to the jackpot. Or to the parking lot full of reporters and TV trucks. Or to attendance, which was at Christmas level today - every pew packed and even standing room in short supply, the rafters ringing with thank-you-Jesuses. The cause of all this excitement went unspoken. As though the Max-a-Million jackpot was so holy its name was never to be uttered.

Everybody up for singing.

Down again for praying.

Finally, somewhere near the end of time, the service was done and people were shuffling out to the aisles and milling around - and Burris was headed toward Mitch. A little crowd was already gathering around the Boatwrights, so he had to push his way through. Then he spotted Nell, standing right beside her son, and she happened to be looking Burris's way. He froze. Gave her a frail lockjaw smile. She seemed not to notice him though. She turned away and went off to one side with her granddaughter and Shaw McBride, and the three of them made a little huddle.

Oh G.o.d, Burris thought: is she talking about me?

No, stop it. Don't be so paranoid. She didn't even see me. She's not being deliberately cruel. Remember how yesterday she said, I love you, darlin'? She has no conception of the pain she's causing, of how much I'd like to curl up at her feet right now and die like a poisoned wasp. Forget it. Just do what you came to do.

He took a breath and pressed forward. Walked up to Mitch and gave him a big embrace.

Inasmuch as they hardly knew each other, this took Mitch somewhat aback. But Burris held on, saying softly, "Hey, I gotta see you. Right away. Police business."

Then pulled back so they were looking eye to eye.

Mitch muttered, "What do you mean?"

"Meet me at Huddle House? Alone? In two hours?"

Clearly Mitch was disturbed by this request. But what did that tell you? Out of the blue a cop declares he's got official business with you: wouldn't that rattle anyone?

Still, Mitch's eyes were buggy and furtive and he did look very very worried. worried.

Burris insisted, "It's important."

Mitch finally shrugged and conceded, "OK. Huddle House. What time again?"

"Two-thirty."

"Tell me what this is about?"

"Two-thirty, Mitch. OK?"

Shaw discovered that just being around old Nell made him happy. Just hearing her laugh. He adored her little self-involved dramas and her frankness. He was pleased particularly now, as she took him and Tara aside and said under her breath, "Oh, kids, you gotta save me." discovered that just being around old Nell made him happy. Just hearing her laugh. He adored her little self-involved dramas and her frankness. He was pleased particularly now, as she took him and Tara aside and said under her breath, "Oh, kids, you gotta save me."

Tara asked, "From what?"

"Deppity Dawg."

"The cop?"

"He's got this thing thing for me." for me."

Shaw couldn't hide his amus.e.m.e.nt. He laughed out loud.

"I swear," said Nell, "he's about to invite invite me to something. I know it." me to something. I know it."

"Which one is he?" said Shaw.

"Don't look!" said Nell. "The one talking to Mitch. Can't we get out of here? He's always giving me these moony looks. Come on, we'll slip out through the rectory. Will there be cameras out there? I'm getting weary of those cameras, I tell you that. This celebrity thing, how long is this gonna drag on?"

Shaw shrugged and smiled.

Said Nell, "I thought you're supposed to be famous for fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes I wouldn't mind. But this is driving me crazy. It's your fault, Shaw. It was that 'I'm giving it all away.' That was such a d.a.m.n fool thing to say. You want to get rid of your money, let me do it. I'll make it disappear. disappear. Ha ha ha! Come on, let's go, don't dawdle. The vultures are right behind us." Ha ha ha! Come on, let's go, don't dawdle. The vultures are right behind us."

Tara drove on their way home from church. Shaw rode in the pa.s.senger seat. They had a police escort now: pinwheels of dancing light, both ahead and behind. But a bold photographer, chasing on a motorcycle, managed to slip into the next lane - suddenly he was right beside her, snapping away. drove on their way home from church. Shaw rode in the pa.s.senger seat. They had a police escort now: pinwheels of dancing light, both ahead and behind. But a bold photographer, chasing on a motorcycle, managed to slip into the next lane - suddenly he was right beside her, snapping away.

The world was closing in on her.

And just then Dad said, from the backseat, "Hey Shaw? Something I got to tell you."

"What?"

"Cop back at the church? Says he wants to meet with me."

Shaw turned in his seat. "What are you talking about?"

"At the Huddle House. In two hours."

"Why?"

"He didn't say. He just wants to meet me."

Shaw was glaring. "A cop cop wants to meet you?" wants to meet you?"

"Yes."

"What the f.u.c.k f.u.c.k?"

It was too much for Tara. Shaw's anger, the paparazzi, the cops: she was overwhelmed. At Redwood Street, the cruiser ahead of her slowed to turn, but she didn't notice this till the last second, and had to hit the brake hard. Shaw was pitched forward. Nearly thrown into the winds.h.i.+eld.

"WHAT THE f.u.c.k ARE YOU DOING?"

He drew out his pistol and held it low where the cops couldn't see it but Tara could. "WHAT THE f.u.c.k IS HAPPENING?"

She said, "I'm sorry! I just, I wasn't, these lights are confusing me!"

"YOU LYING c.u.n.t!"

She tried to focus on her driving. She managed to make the turn, and then crawled along. As Redwood was only a two-lane street, the motorcycle had to fall back. Shaw got on his cell phone and screamed, "s.h.i.+T GOING DOWN. FIND A TARGET!" A pause. "WHENEVER I GIVE YOU THE WORD! JUST START KILLING. KILL EVERY BOATWRIGHT IN THIS COUNTY!" GOING DOWN. FIND A TARGET!" A pause. "WHENEVER I GIVE YOU THE WORD! JUST START KILLING. KILL EVERY BOATWRIGHT IN THIS COUNTY!"

He shut the phone and turned to the backseat: "WHO TOLD?"

n.o.body spoke.

"JASE, YOU GAVE US UP, DIDN'T YOU, YOU LITTLE f.u.c.k?"

Jase was bawling. "No sir."

"YOU READY, JASE? READY FOR THE KILLING TO START? READY FOR THE PUNISHMENT? I'M READY!"

"I swear I didn't tell! I swear to G.o.d."

Shaw turned to Mom. "WAS IT YOU, b.i.t.c.h?"

She had her face in her hands. "No, I wouldn't! I wouldn't! Ever!"

"THEN WHICH ONE? WHO'S THE f.u.c.kING PSYCHO WHO WANTS ALL THE KILLING?"

I have to calm him, Tara thought. "Shaw, it wasn't us."

He s.h.i.+fted his eyes her way.

She said, "There's lots of things that cop could want. Maybe he just wants to complain about the size of the crowd. Maybe he wants Dad to hire him for security. I don't know, but I mean none of us would say anything, really, Shaw, we're not that crazy, we wouldn't -"

"Shut up."

He was staring out at the street. They were already back at Oriole Road, which was lined with pilgrims. "Just shut the f.u.c.k up. I have to think."

Romeo sat in the Tercel across the street from Cousin Alfred's house, awaiting Shaw's command. He'd taken the Phoenix.22 from the trunk, and had it handy, wedged down beside the parking brake. He had the phone in his hand, and he was looking up at the grand facade of the house. Waiting. As soon as Shaw gives the word, I'll make the word flesh. I will not let him down. Get ready. Any second. When he says go, don't hesitate. sat in the Tercel across the street from Cousin Alfred's house, awaiting Shaw's command. He'd taken the Phoenix.22 from the trunk, and had it handy, wedged down beside the parking brake. He had the phone in his hand, and he was looking up at the grand facade of the house. Waiting. As soon as Shaw gives the word, I'll make the word flesh. I will not let him down. Get ready. Any second. When he says go, don't hesitate.

Finally the phone buzzed, and he answered: "Yeah."