"I guess it won't hurt if he misses brushing his teeth just one night," she said worriedly.
Charlie couldn't suppress a smile, and she saw him smiling, and she seemed to realize how ironic it was to be fretting about cavities only hours after the boy had escaped three killers.
She blushed and said, "I guess, if God spared him from the bullets, He'll spare him from tooth decay, huh?"
"It's a good bet."
Chewbacca curled up at the side of the bed and yawned heartily. He'd had a rough day, too.
Vince Fields came to the doorway and said, "Where do you want me, boss?"
Charlie hesitated, remembering Pete and Frank. He had put them in the line of fire. He didn't want to put Vince in the line of fire, too.
But, of course, it was ridiculous of him to think that way. He couldn't tell Vince to hide in the back of the closet where it was safe. It was Vince's job to be in the line of fire if necessary; Vince knew that, and Charlie knew that, and they both knew it was Charlie's job to give the orders, regardless of the consequences. So what was he waiting for?
Either you had the guts to accept the risks in this job, or you didn't.
He cleared his throat and said, "Uh. I want you right here, Vince. Sitting on a chair. Beside the bed."
Vince sat down.
Charlie took Christine to the small tidy kitchen, where George Swarthout had made a large pot of coffee and had poured cups for himself and Vince. Charlie sent Geor,e to the living room windows, to keep watch on the street, poured some of the coffee for himself and Christine.
"Miriam-Henry's aunt-is a brandy drinker. Would you like a slug in that coffee?"
"Might be a good idea," Christine said.
He found the brandy in the cabinet by the refrigerator and laced both cups of coffee.
They sat across from each other at a small table by a window that looked out on a rain-hammered garden where, at the moment, only shadows bloomed.
He said, "How's your hip?"
"Just a twinge.
"Sure?"
"Positive. Listen, what happens now? Will the police make arrests?"
"They can't. The assailants are all dead."
"But the woman who sent them isn't dead. She's a party to attempted murder. A conspirator. She's as guilty as they were."
"We've no proof Grace Spivey sent them."
"If all three of them are members of her church-"
"That would be an important lead. The problem is, how do we prove they were church members?"
"The police could question their friends, their families."
"Which they would definitely do. if they could find their friends and families."
"What do you mean?"
"None of those three gunmen was carrying identification. No wallets, no credit cards, no driver's licenses, no nothing."
"Fingerprints. Couldn't they be identified by their fingerprints? "
"Of course, the police will be following up on that. But unless those men were in the army or have criminal records or once held a security job that required them to be fingerprinted, their prints won't be on file anywhere."
"So we might never know who they were?"
"Maybe not. And until we can identify them, there's no way to trace them back to Grace Spivey."
She scowled as she drank some of her coffee and brandy, mulling over the situation, trying to see what they might have missed, trying to come up with a way to link the killers with the Church of the Twilight. Charlie could tell her that she was wasting her time, that Grace Spivey had been too careful, but she had to reach that conclusion on her own.
Finally she said, "The man who attacked us in front of the house.
was he the one who was driving the van?"
"No. He's not the man I watched through binoculars."
"But if he was in that van, even as a passenger, maybe it's still parked down the street from my house."
"Nope. The police looked for it. No white van anywhere in the neighborhood. Nothing at all that would point to The True Word or to the Church of the Twilight."
" What about their weapons?"
"Those are being checked out, too. But I expect they weren't purchased legitimately. There'll be no way to find out who bought them."
Her face soured by frustration, she said, "But we know Grace Spivey threatened Joey, and we know one of her people has been following us in a van. After what happened tonight, isn't that reason enough for the cops to at least go talk to her?"
"Yes. And they will."
"When? "
"Now. If they haven't already. But she'll deny everything."
" They'll keep a watch on her?"
"Nope. No point in it, anyway. They might be able to watch her, but they can't keep tabs on everyone who's a member of her church. That would require a lot more manpower than they have. Besides, itd be unconstitutional."
"Then we're right back where we started," she said miserably.
"No. Eventually, maybe not right away but in time, one of those nameless dead men or one of their guns or the pictures I took of the man in the van will give us a concrete connection with Grace Spivey. These people aren't perfect. Somewhere, they've overlooked a detail, made a mistake, and we'll capitalize on it. They'll make other mistakes, too, and sooner or later we'll have enough evidence to nail them."
"Meanwhile?"
"You and Joey will lay low."
"Here?"
"For the time being."
"They'll find us."
"No."
"They will," she said grimly.
"Not even the police know where you are."
"But your people know."
"We're on your side."
She nodded, but he could see that she still had something to say, something she really didn't want to say but something she couldn't contain, either.
"What is it? What're you thinking?" he prodded.
"Isn't it possible that one of your people belongs to the Church of the Twilight?"
The question startled him. He hand-picked his people, knew them, liked them, trusted them." Impossible."
"After all, your agency had a Tn-in with Spivey. You rescued those two little children from her cult, snatched them away from their mother. I'd think maybe Grace Spivey would be wary of you, wary enough to plant someone in your organization. She could've converted one of your men."
"No. Impossible. The first time she tried to contact one of them, he'd report it to me immediately."
"Maybe it's one of your new employees, someone who was a Spivey disciple before he ever came to work for you. Have you hired anyone new since you snatched those kids?"
"A few people. But our employees have to undergo a rigorous background investigation before we hire them-"
" Membership in the church could be hidden, kept secret."'
"It'd be difficult."
"I notice you've stopped saying 'impossible."
She'd made him uneasy. He liked to believe that he always thought of everything, prepared for every contingency. But he hadn't thought of this, primarily because he knew his people too well to entertain the notion that any of them was weak-minded enough to sign up with a crackpot cult. Then again, people were strange, especially these days, and the only thing about them that could surprise you was if they never surprised you.
He sipped his coffee and said, "I'll have Henry Rankin run entirely new checks on everyone who's joined us since the Spivey case. If something was missed the first time, Henry'll find it.
He's the best there is."
"And you're sure you can trust Henty?"
"Jesus, Christine, he's like my brother!"
"Remember Cain and Abel."
"Listen, Christine, a little suspicion, a touch of paranoiathat's good.
I encourage it. Makes you more cautious. But you can go too far.
You've got to trust someone. You can't handle this alone."
She nodded, looked down at her half-finished coffee and brandy." You're right. And I guess it's not very charitable of me to worry about how trustworthy your people are when two of them have already died for me."