Gun Church

Forty-Nine

The address belonged to a red brick building. Only the knowledge that Amy was inside distinguished it from the other houses on the block. There was a silver Chevy Malibu parked in the driveway. I drove around the block a few times before parking and going up the front steps. My heart was pounding as I forced myself to knock.

“Who is it?” I thought I recognized Tom McDonald’s voice.

“Kip Weiler.”

The door pulled back, but there was no one standing on the other side. I’d taken a step forward when a hand latched on to my wrist, yanked me hard inside, and forced me face-down onto the carpet. My arm was being held immobile by a wrist lock when the door slammed shut behind. I was pulled up onto my feet, arm still behind me, something hard-the muzzle of a gun, no doubt-stuck in my neck. A thick-necked, middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair, dark, suspicious brown eyes, and a neutral mouth stepped out of the shadows. He patted me down so thoroughly that there would never be secrets between us. He removed my wallet from my back pocket, opened it, and alternated his gaze from my face to my driver’s license. All of it, from the knock on the door to this, took no more than twenty or thirty seconds.

“It’s him, Tommy. It’s Weiler. Let him go.” My arm was freed. “I’m Tony Dee,” said the man in front of me, offering me his right hand. I shook it. “And that guy behind you with the map of Kerry on his face is Tom McDonald.”

I turned around to see a silver-haired man about my size with sparkling blue eyes, a ruddy complexion, a disarmingly crooked smile, and a Glock pointed square at my belly.

“What was the name of the woman who contacted our firm?” he asked, politely but firmly.

“Meg Donovan.”

He holstered the Glock.

“How do you like your coffee, Mr. Weiler?” he asked.

“Hot.”

“Tony, why don’t you get him some coffee while we have a chat.”

We sat down at an unremarkable kitchen table. It was wood, had four legs, and four chairs. The entire house, at least the parts of it I could see, was decorated in like fashion: functional, not fancy. Tony Dee brought me a cup of coffee and told McDonald he was going to catch some sleep while he could. I took a sip of the coffee. It was hot. That was the best thing I could say about it.

“How is she?”

“She’s a little freaked and pissed, but that’s normal. She’s in the other bedroom resting.”

“Can I go see her?”

“In a minute,” he said. “First I want to know what happened that made you push the panic button. And before you answer, remember that if the danger to your ex-wife has increased, the danger to me and my partner has increased too.”

“I understand.” And I did, but I had to be careful not to say too much until I saw Amy. “I came across some information that led me to believe that the threats made against Amy were real.”

“Have you considered going to the authorities? Our firm can make that easier for you. We can hook you up with a top-notch lawyer, have someone meet you here if you’re afraid of being spotted contacting the law.”

“I’m thinking about it, but I can’t do it yet. I need to see Amy, okay? I need to discuss this with her first.”

“I see. Go ahead. Down the hallway to the right.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Wait until you get the bill before you thank me.”

I stood up from the table, taking the coffee with me. I didn’t want to drink it, but it made a good prop, made me seem more relaxed than I actually was. I walked down the hall past the bathroom and the bedroom Tony Dee was using. I knocked on Amy’s door, but didn’t wait for her answer. The time for acting cool and relaxed was over and I didn’t want to waste any more time than I had to.

Amy was sitting on the bed, head in her hands, an unwatched TV playing in the background. When I approached, she looked up. Her face was completely drained of color and her skin showed every wrinkle, line, and mark. It was as if she were aging before my eyes. As I opened my mouth to speak, she put her index finger across her lips to quiet me. She tapped in something on her BlackBerry, then handed it to me.

“Listen,” she whispered.

I put the phone to my ear. “Amy, this is Peter. Please do as I ask and do it the way I tell you to do it.” It was Peter Moreland. He spoke breathlessly, his voice was cracking, struggling to say the words. “You must get out of wherever you are and come with Kip or I’ll be killed. When you get on the road, start heading north on the New York State Thruway. When you get close to Stewart Airport, call this number. If you go to the police or are followed, he’ll kill me and he says to tell Kip he will also kill Renee. He’s serious, Amy.” Then there was some static.

“That’s right, Amy, I’m not kidding,” Jim said. I pictured him grabbing the phone away from Moreland. “Do what your sorry excuse for a husband said to do. How could you leave a guy like Kip for a cowardly piece of shit like this guy? My respect for you has taken a nosedive. Oh, yeah, to prove to you I’m serious … ”

There was a brief pause, a gunshot, Peter Moreland screaming, then nothing. I handed the phone back to Amy.

“How long ago did you get that message?”

“Half an hour ago.”

“I’ve got to get out of here,” I said.

She didn’t move. “Is Renee-”

“Yes, the girl from the restaurant.”

“Do you think he killed Peter? It sounded like he-”

“No, not yet, but he will. He’s killed before.”

“I don’t want anything to happen to Peter on my account.”

“Too late, Amy. We need to try and make sure nothing else happens to him.”

“Kip, who are these people? What the hell is going on? What does Peter have to do with-”

“Jim, the guy who’s got Peter, was a student of mine. He and Renee were in the class when the other kid took us hostage. We got close after that. Jim got me back in shape, taught me how to shoot. It’s complicated. I thought he was harmless, but … ”

“Harmless! He has Peter and god knows what he’s done to him.”

“I know. I know. That’s why you’re here. He threatened you and I had Meg hire these guys.”

“They got me out of bed at four in the morning, knocking on my door, saying they were the fire department.”

“I had to do something to protect you.”

“You want to protect me? How about staying the fuck out of my life?”

“After today, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Fine.”

“I have to get out of here, Amy.”

“I’m coming too.”

I knew better than to argue. “Just follow my lead,” I said.

We came out of the bedroom and found Tom McDonald still sitting at the table. He seemed surprised to see us and a bit wary.

“Everything all right?” he asked, getting to his feet.

“No, the guy, Jim, who’s after us, he just called me.”

McDonald tensed. “Yeah?”

“He says he’s got a rifle trained on the back of the house and I don’t think he’s lying. He described how far the shades were pulled down, their color and everything.”

“Did he mention the girl, Renee?”

“She’s there with him. She got on the phone after he was done talking.”

His hand went right to his holster. “There’s only the two of them, right?”

“Just Jim and Renee, that’s right,” I said.

“Okay, you and Amy get down low and stay here while I get Tony Dee up. Don’t move. You got me?”

“Clear as a bell.” Amy nodded in agreement.

As soon as McDonald tapped on the bedroom door and stuck his head inside to wake his partner, Amy and I took off. We had a little trouble with the front lock and that gave McDonald time to figure out what was going on. He screamed for us to stop and as we finally got outside, I heard his footsteps coming up behind us. The door closed in his face and that gave us the time we needed to get down the stairs and into Isaac’s car ahead of him. We were pulling away just as he reached us. I took a peek in the side view mirror. McDonald looked pretty pissed off.

I waited until we were nearly back to the highway before speaking. “Listen, Amy, Jim’s dangerous and he will do the things he says he will. He killed Haskell Brown.”

“Oh, my god!”

“None of this is about you, really. You and Peter are involved only because you are connected to me and Peter to you. Saving Renee is only part of why I’m going. Jim is my personal nightmare. I have to go. You don’t. I can go by myself. Maybe I can talk Jim down. He does have this worship and adoration thing about me and maybe-”

“Will he kill Peter if I don’t go?” she asked, her voice sharp as a razor. “The truth.”

“Maybe, but he might kill him anyway.”

“I’m coming.”

“Are you sure? All you need do is say the word and I’ll drop you off. You’ll be safe.”

“Of course I’m not sure. Who would be? But I’m coming just the same.”

The rain had let up and the traffic had thinned. I pulled onto the Whitestone Expressway and moved easily into the flow of traffic. It was probably the last easy thing I would ever do.