Wiseacre.
“Smells
like weed, shithead,” Diggs said. “And if I catch you smoking it on your Mama’s
front porch again, I’ll kick your ass six ways to Sunday.”
Danny
nodded. Clearly, it wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. So much for Uncle Diggs,
frat brother in arms. “Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.”
“Good,”
Diggs said. He held out his hand. Danny took it, letting Diggs pull him up.
“Now, come on. Put some eye drops in, and let’s do this thing.” He draped his
arm across Danny’s shoulders and looked at me. “You ready, Sol?”
“Go
on ahead—I just have to grab something, I’ll be right there.”
I
went in, settled Einstein and the other dogs inside, and grabbed my purse. When
I came out, Diggs and Danny were walking together, heads tilted toward one
another. I had one of those brief, not-at-all advisable flashes of What Might
Have Been between the two of us. If that night when he’d learned I was marrying
Michael had gone differently… Of course, he’d already started using by then—not
to the degree he did later, but he was on that road. And he was drinking. And
lying. Most likely, if we’d tried to make something happen then, we would have
imploded way more spectacularly than he and Ashley ever did. Our friendship was
strong, but I doubted it could have withstood that.
He
was four years’ sober now. A changed man in any number of ways, from the one
I’d known back then.
“Get
the lead out, ace,” Diggs called back to me. “We’re not getting any younger
here. You coming or what?”
Okay,
not totally changed. I set my tumbling thoughts aside and made for the car.
Danny got in the back despite my protests, and Diggs gave me a cryptic smile as
he put the car in gear.
The
sky was getting grayer, though it hadn’t started raining yet. We’d been driving
maybe ten minutes when I noticed Diggs checking the rearview again. We were on
a rural road, only a few cars in any direction. It made it very easy to spot
the dark blue sedan with tinted windows keeping pace a couple of cars back.
I
fisted my hands in my lap, feeling the bone-deep fear that had become a
constant since Black Falls. Diggs caught the movement.
“We’re
being followed,” I said quietly.
He
nodded, not even bothering to deny it. “I know,” he said grimly.
Chapter Six
DIGGS
Justice
Baptist was a little white church at the end of a short dirt drive on the
outskirts of town. I knew as soon as we rounded the corner and the church was
in sight that something was wrong. The parking lot was packed, the road lined
with cars, and people had started parking in the field out back. I wasn’t
looking at them, though, my attention caught by a crowd gathered in a clearing
across the road.
A
cluster of a dozen men, women, and children stood at the church property line
holding signs and chanting nonsense. Danny leaned toward the front seat,
straining to see through the windshield.
“What’s
going on over there?” he asked.
“Go
on in the church and get settled,” I told Danny and Solomon. “I’ll be right there.”
The
kid wouldn’t be so easily dissuaded, his attention still fixed on the
demonstrators. “Is that Reverend Barnel?” he demanded. He got out of the car
before I could answer. Solomon and I tore after him as he strode toward the
crowd. I caught up to him and grabbed his arm.
“Get
in the church—you hear me? Now. I’ll handle this.”
“I
don’t need you to handle it.” Danny tore his arm away. “I got it.”
I
could hear the chanting the closer we got. At the center of it all was Reverend
Jesup T. Barnel. Even now, I felt the cold, bowel-clenching fear I’d known as a
boy around him.
“The
Lord is gathering his flock,” he preached. “The end is upon us—judgment time is
here, brothers and sisters. Wyatt Durham was found wantin’. How many more will
the Lord smite before the fires consume this land of ours?”
Danny
pushed through the onlookers. “What the hell
“Smells
like weed, shithead,” Diggs said. “And if I catch you smoking it on your Mama’s
front porch again, I’ll kick your ass six ways to Sunday.”
Danny
nodded. Clearly, it wasn’t the reaction he’d expected. So much for Uncle Diggs,
frat brother in arms. “Yes, sir. Won’t happen again.”
“Good,”
Diggs said. He held out his hand. Danny took it, letting Diggs pull him up.
“Now, come on. Put some eye drops in, and let’s do this thing.” He draped his
arm across Danny’s shoulders and looked at me. “You ready, Sol?”
“Go
on ahead—I just have to grab something, I’ll be right there.”
I
went in, settled Einstein and the other dogs inside, and grabbed my purse. When
I came out, Diggs and Danny were walking together, heads tilted toward one
another. I had one of those brief, not-at-all advisable flashes of What Might
Have Been between the two of us. If that night when he’d learned I was marrying
Michael had gone differently… Of course, he’d already started using by then—not
to the degree he did later, but he was on that road. And he was drinking. And
lying. Most likely, if we’d tried to make something happen then, we would have
imploded way more spectacularly than he and Ashley ever did. Our friendship was
strong, but I doubted it could have withstood that.
He
was four years’ sober now. A changed man in any number of ways, from the one
I’d known back then.
“Get
the lead out, ace,” Diggs called back to me. “We’re not getting any younger
here. You coming or what?”
Okay,
not totally changed. I set my tumbling thoughts aside and made for the car.
Danny got in the back despite my protests, and Diggs gave me a cryptic smile as
he put the car in gear.
The
sky was getting grayer, though it hadn’t started raining yet. We’d been driving
maybe ten minutes when I noticed Diggs checking the rearview again. We were on
a rural road, only a few cars in any direction. It made it very easy to spot
the dark blue sedan with tinted windows keeping pace a couple of cars back.
I
fisted my hands in my lap, feeling the bone-deep fear that had become a
constant since Black Falls. Diggs caught the movement.
“We’re
being followed,” I said quietly.
He
nodded, not even bothering to deny it. “I know,” he said grimly.
Chapter Six
DIGGS
Justice
Baptist was a little white church at the end of a short dirt drive on the
outskirts of town. I knew as soon as we rounded the corner and the church was
in sight that something was wrong. The parking lot was packed, the road lined
with cars, and people had started parking in the field out back. I wasn’t
looking at them, though, my attention caught by a crowd gathered in a clearing
across the road.
A
cluster of a dozen men, women, and children stood at the church property line
holding signs and chanting nonsense. Danny leaned toward the front seat,
straining to see through the windshield.
“What’s
going on over there?” he asked.
“Go
on in the church and get settled,” I told Danny and Solomon. “I’ll be right there.”
The
kid wouldn’t be so easily dissuaded, his attention still fixed on the
demonstrators. “Is that Reverend Barnel?” he demanded. He got out of the car
before I could answer. Solomon and I tore after him as he strode toward the
crowd. I caught up to him and grabbed his arm.
“Get
in the church—you hear me? Now. I’ll handle this.”
“I
don’t need you to handle it.” Danny tore his arm away. “I got it.”
I
could hear the chanting the closer we got. At the center of it all was Reverend
Jesup T. Barnel. Even now, I felt the cold, bowel-clenching fear I’d known as a
boy around him.
“The
Lord is gathering his flock,” he preached. “The end is upon us—judgment time is
here, brothers and sisters. Wyatt Durham was found wantin’. How many more will
the Lord smite before the fires consume this land of ours?”
Danny
pushed through the onlookers. “What the hell
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