Suddenly exhausted, Gus slumped back in his chair. After today, no more killing, he told himself. No more killing.
He rose, nodded at Zubov, and made his way back to the front of the plane, where he sat down next to Buck asleep in his carrier. Just sitting there watching the sleeping infant calmed Gus. So innocent he was. So perfect. Gus touched the baby’s cheek with a fingertip. Buck opened his eyes and rewarded him with a toothless smile.
Gus’s heart turned over in his chest.
He would step down as chairman of the Committee of Five. Maybe he would even resign from the committee. Resign as president of Hartmann Oil. From now on he was just going to be a rancher. And a father to Buck and an uncle to Jason and a godfather to Amita. The three boys would grow up as best friends.
Tomorrow, after everything was over and he and the babies and Randi and his sister were all at the ranch, he would go to the little chapel and pray for forgiveness. Yes, he would do that. Pray with all of his heart that God in heaven will wash away his sins and make him worthy of three innocent little boys.
Jamie and Joe spent the day intentionally keeping Billy awake.
They covered the drain in the shower and filled it with a couple of inches of water then took turns holding Billy so he wouldn’t topple over while he slapped the water and kicked with his feet, squealing with delight. And when he lost interest in splashing, they took turns carrying him up and down the lanes between the campsites, jiggling him, talking to him, constantly moving him from one position to another. They put a blanket under a tree and tickled him and shook a baby rattle in his face. They sang songs and fed him spoonfuls of applesauce-his very first solid food. When he got absolutely frantic with hunger, Jamie would nurse him for a short time then play with him some more. Jamie and Billy both cried during the drive to the Temple of Praise. “He must think I’m the worst mother in the whole world,” she sobbed over his wailing. “The poor little guy is starving to death.”
“Not much longer,” Joe kept telling her.
But the traffic was terrible. The trip was taking longer than they had planned. Jamie felt as though her breasts were about to explode. And with every cry that came from Billy’s mouth, she would feel spurts of milk erupt from them.
Joe parked the RV behind the building in an area reserved for such vehicles. Jamie sobbed as she forced her furious baby into the sling then finally slipped a leaking nipple into his mouth and felt his little body go limp with relief. Joe pulled on his choir robe then put another one over Jamie’s head. She looked like a woman soon to give birth to a very large baby.
“Billy’s going to suffocate,” she said.
“It’s just until you get inside,” Joe told her. “Then you can hide out in the restroom until it’s time to go onstage.”
“What if someone figures out I have a baby with me?”
“Just go, Jamie. Now, while Billy is quiet.”
“I’ve never been so scared in my life,” she told him. “Not even when I was alone in that old house giving birth.”
“I’m scared, too,” Joe said. “We’re doing this so we won’t have to be scared anymore.”
A guard was posted outside the entrance to the choir room. He smiled pleasantly as they pushed open the door.
Marcia and her two cameramen-actually a cameraman and a camerawoman-surveyed the huge sanctuary that was already beginning to fill with people. Marcia explained that once the service began, she wanted them to shoot from the stage, the balcony, and the back of the sanctuary to show the vastness of the space and the sea of people. Then they were to go backstage. Marcia showed them a copy of the Life magazine cover. “I want dramatic footage that is reminiscent of this historic photograph,” Marcia explained. “And I want up-close-and-personal shots of Amanda onstage with her baby. And of her preaching, of course. Wait until she really gets into it and be sure to get the part where she invites people to come to the front. Apparently she goes down those center stairs to meet them. There’s one family I’m particularly interested in-I’ll let you know when I spot them.”
“You mean we have to stay for the whole thing?” Jill the camerawoman protested.
“We’ll stay until I have my story,” Marcia said.
Marcia was nervous and jumpy, in part, she supposed, because she hadn’t slept well the night before. She didn’t like buying into conspiracy theories. Didn’t want to believe that there were powerful people who operated outside of the law. Part of her hoped that nothing was going to happen today. But part of her wanted The Big Story.
Chapter Forty-two
GUS AND RANDI, with assistance from Zubov and Bella, carried the babies and their accompanying paraphernalia to a backstage dressing room.
Gus was perspiring profusely. He could smell the odor of his own body and worried that Randi might notice.
And his bowels were beginning to churn.
He used the restroom down the hall rather than the one in the dressing room. When he came out of the stall, he unbuttoned his shirt and sponged his underarms with wet paper towels. His face in the mirror looked pale and drawn. Today was the most important day of his life, he realized. Failure was unacceptable.
He walked back to the dressing room, squared his shoulders, composed a smile on his face, and opened the door.
“Are you all right, Mister Gus?” Randi asked, her forehead creased with worry.
“My stomach is a bit upset,” he told her.
Gus checked his watch. Were Jamie Long and Joe Brammer already on their way to the Temple of Praise or would they wait until the last possible minute to arrive? He hoped they came early and were dealt with without causing any disruption. Zubov and his people would take them away, and it would be as though Jamie Long and her boyfriend had never existed. Then he could relax and enjoy the evening. He hadn’t seen his sister preach in person in years.
After sipping a Seven-Up that Randi had brought him, his innards seemed to settle down a bit. He left the room to search out a private corner so he could call Zubov.
No sign of them yet, he learned. But it was early still. The service wouldn’t start for two hours.
Already, though, there was a beehive of activity backstage. Electricians were running one last check on the lighting and sound systems. A tiny woman in a long Hawaiian-looking garment was bustling about inspecting the floral arrangements on the stage and repositioning them.
People were trying not to stare at Gus, taking furtive glances or waiting until they thought he was looking elsewhere to study him. An item of curiosity. A man who wasn’t short enough to be a midget but definitely not normal-looking. It had been years since Gus had been around this many strangers. He had spent his entire life avoiding strangers. But today was a unique day. A day that marked a new beginning. He felt almost feverish in his excitement and wished that Amanda were here so he could embrace her and feel her cool hand on his forehead. Not that he could tell her why he was in this state of disquiet. Amanda had no idea what a special day this was.
His sister claimed that dressing rooms gave her claustrophobia. She did her own makeup and arrived minutes before it was time for her to walk onstage. Sometimes she arrived late, but no one ever got mad at Amanda. They probably just assumed that she was having a last few minutes with God in preparation for her words of praise and redemption.
Gus walked over to the curtain and peeked out into the sanctuary. Musicians were setting up their electronic equipment in the orchestra pit. Four seats in the middle of the front row were roped off. He hoped that there would be no need to use them, that Zubov and his team would have already apprehended Jamie and her boyfriend and be long gone before the service began. By the time Amanda walked onstage Jamie Long and Joe Brammer would be dead.