There’s absolutely no way in hell I’m going to let this girl do something like this. She may not be my child, but she’s my responsibility. “No!” I shout it this time, and it surprises Lanny to the point that she flinches and grabs for Vee’s hand. Vee doesn’t even blink. “You are not doing anything like this, Vera! I will not allow it!” I take a beat to get my pulse under control, my tone less sharp, and turn to the others. “I need options. Does anybody have some?”
Vee turns and walks away. She goes down the hall, and I hear a door slam. Fine. I want her out of this anyway. Her and Lanny both. My daughter looks torn; she gives me a pleading look, and I nod toward the hallway. She goes after Vee.
The four of us are silent for a few painful seconds, and then Javier says, “Tell me what the girl said again. About how they make their saints.”
I repeat Carol’s story, best I can. About how Father Tom drowns his captives and sinks them in the pond. It’s borne out by the evidence the FBI found in the lake at the abandoned compound, so it’s almost certainly still going on at Bitter Falls.
Javier listens without any expression and then nods. “I’m opening up the gun range. We’ll arm up out of the stock. If the FBI isn’t going in, then we’re going to have to. It’s risky. You and me, Gwen.”
“And me,” Kez says. Javier turns expressionless eyes toward her, and she stares right back. Nobody bends. “You don’t decide for me, Javi.”
“Fair enough,” he says, and cracks a crooked smile. “I know I can’t stop you when you get going anyway.” He looks at J. B. “Ma’am, I don’t know you, and I can’t trust you can handle this. Sorry.”
“It’s okay,” she says. “I’m past my fence-climbing days. But I’ve got two operatives who aren’t, and they’re waiting on my call. Solid people. You can count on them.”
“In a firefight?” I ask her. “Because that’s where this is heading, J. B.”
She lifts a single shoulder. Half a shrug. “Cicely West and Joe Froud. You know them. You tell me. They volunteered, by the way, when they heard about Connor and Sam.”
Joe Froud is a tall, lanky, funny man; I’ve met him a few times, worked with him once. But never in a dangerous situation. Cicely—well. I’ve already seen her in action. If J. B. thinks Joe’s in her class, I’m fine with that. “Please tell them this is incredibly dangerous,” I say. “And I understand if they take a look and decide it’s not for them. No judgment.”
“Let me make the call,” J. B. says. She goes into the kitchen and turns away from us. I look at Kez and Javier.
“You two, same thing,” I say. “I can’t ask you for this. I don’t want you risking your lives for me—”
“Hey,” Kez says. “We’re not doing it for you, Gwen. We’re doing it for Connor. We both love that boy. If there’s anybody innocent in this situation, it’s him.”
Javier just nods in agreement, and I have to stop for a moment. The weight of this is both welcome and crushing. I need them. But I also need them to be safe. But I need my son. There are no right answers here, and I’m flailing in the dark.
J. B. ends her call and comes back. “They’re going to meet us there,” she says. “Question is, how do we get out of here with the FBI parade blocking our way?”
“We don’t ask,” I say. I stand up and go knock on Lanny’s door. There’s no answer, so I swing it open.
My daughter’s standing at the open window, staring out. As I watch, she slides it down and locks it before turning back to me with her arms crossed. “Vee’s right,” she says. “You don’t get to decide for her, Mom.”
“She’s gone?”
Lanny just nods. Fuck. I can’t worry about what Vee’s planning. There’s no way she can get there before we do. I’ll have to alert the FBI that she might try to approach the place, though. I don’t want anyone thinking she’s a combatant.
I want to yell at Lanny, but it won’t do any good. I should have known Vee Crockett would do whatever she thought was best, like it or not. And that Lanny would agree with her. I just take my daughter in my arms and hug her instead. I feel all the stiff confrontation melt out of her. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “It’s all going to be okay.”
I’m lying to my child when I say it. I feel utterly out of control, out of time, out of hope. For the first time in my life I have to depend not on myself alone, but on the goodwill of friends I’ve made along the way. People I respect and love. And giving up control is the hardest thing I’ve done in a long time.
I lead Lanny back into the living room. J. B., Javier, and Kez all look up.
“Let’s do this,” I tell them. I look at my daughter. “Lanny, you’re going to stay with J. B. Whatever happens, I don’t want you to be alone.”
She nods. She was so afraid I’d leave her behind, and that hurts and heals at the same time. I know I’m taking her somewhere dangerous, but Lanny, of all people, understands how necessary this is.
Javier says, “Gwen? Once we’re doing this, you follow my orders. That’s how it’s got to be.”
I nod, though it goes against everything in my nature.
Sometimes I have to let those I love lead the way too.
24
CONNOR
It starts with the girl who tried to get me to go off with her before. Aria.
It’s getting dark after dinner is served by the army of silent women. Aria’s one of them. She keeps her gaze down most of the time, but she glances at me plenty. I . . . don’t mind. She keeps coming by to refill our glasses. The men at the table ignore her completely, like she doesn’t even exist. But I see her. And she sees me.
She needs to leave with us, I think. She doesn’t belong here. There are younger girls here than Aria, too; there’s a wispy blonde girl with really blue eyes who looks scared to death, who cowers when anyone comes near her. Another dark-haired kid, maybe nine at most, who just looks sad and lost. They’re not like Aria. Aria seems to know what she’s doing.
The last time she leans over my shoulder to pour more water into my glass, she whispers, “Meet me at midnight at the falls.” She’s gone before I’m even sure I heard right. Or heard it at all. She walks away with her heavy pitcher and doesn’t look back, and the meal finishes and I have to listen to Father Tom praying for nearly an hour before we’re released. When all the heads are bowed, I do it, too, but I don’t close my eyes. I’m sure they’re all into whatever he’s droning on about, so I slowly move my hand and put it over the fork I left next to my empty plate. I’d like to have a knife, but they didn’t give me one. I slowly slide the fork up my sleeve and work it around so the tines are stuck in the cotton right at the band of the long sleeves. It’s the only thing I like about these clothes Father Tom’s made me put on: I can hide stuff under the shirt, and the plain black jacket.
When the prayer’s over, everyone stands. I start to, but the men on either side of me put their hands on my shoulders and keep me seated. My heart starts racing. I look at one of them and say, “What?” He doesn’t answer. He just smiles.