younger Russian helped his partner to his feet and the two men hobbled back into the compound.
His phone rang. It was Eli asking what the hell was going on.
“All over now but the crying.” Shannon winced as he touched his eye and as his fingers traveled down to the area above his jaw where he’d been hit. He resisted the temptation to look at himself in the rearview mirror. “I’m in my car now. And mostly in one piece.”
“What do you mean
“They sent a couple of goons to put the fear of God in me.” Shannon opened his mouth wide and moved his jaw from side to side, making sure it was still hinged properly and nothing broken. “As we were saying our goodbyes, they tried giving me a beating as a warning. It didn’t quite work as they’d planned.”
“Jesus, Bill, are you sure you’re okay?”
“Mostly. A little bruised and banged up, maybe some cracked ribs but nothing broken that I know of. Are you at the Center?”
“Damn it, Bill-”
“Sorry, Eli, but I’m rushed for time right now. I’ll tell you more about what happened when I see you. No more than an hour.”
After hanging up, Shannon called the Boulderado Hotel. There was a cancellation and the reservation clerk could let him have one of their suites until next Thursday, but that was all she had. When she told Shannon the price, he winced a bit harder than when he’d touched his bruised eye and jaw, but told her he’d take it. Then he put the car in drive and headed back towards downtown Boulder. On the way he called Susan.
“What’s wrong, Hon?” she asked, her voice uneasy, sensing something was not quite right with him.
“Probably nothing,” he said. “I booked us a suite at the Boulderado for a few days. I’ll explain more when I see you, but for now pack what you need and go to Emily’s. I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes and tell you more then.”
“Hon, you have to tell me what’s going on.”
“I will when I see you.”
“I’ll wait here for you,” she said, an iciness edging into her voice. “We’ll discuss then whether we’re going anywhere.”
“Susie, you have to pack and leave now. Please, do as I say and let me explain when I pick you up.”
“You’re making me nervous,” she said.
“There’s no reason for you to be nervous. Everything will be fine, but we need to leave the apartment for a few days. Trust me on this, please, Darling?”
There was a long silence where Shannon imagined Susan holding her breath, her face white with worry, her brow one big wrinkle, her beautiful brown eyes welling up with tears. He felt lower than he had felt in years, hating himself for exposing her to more danger, something he swore he would never do after they’d survived Charlie Winters. He wanted to drive back to that cult and find a way to put the fear of God in those two Russians, make sure they knew what would happen if they ever came to his apartment and bothered Susan or him. But those two were beyond fear. They’d just take it as a challenge, if they weren’t already planning on it.
Finally Susan told him she would wait for him at Emily’s. Her voice sounded so fragile it brought a lump to his throat. For the next few minutes he drove with his lips pressed hard enough together to make his jaw ache even more than it should given the punch he had taken. When he trusted himself to talk in a calm and rational tone, he called Daniels and asked if he could check on Melissa Cousins at the True Light compound.
“Now why would I want to do that?” Daniels asked somewhat drily.
“The place is bad news.”
“Nothing I can do about that.”
“Maybe not, but I have a gut feeling something happened to her. That that’s why I’m getting so much resistance.”
“You’re getting resistance, huh?”
Shannon hesitated and Daniels let out a loud, annoyed sigh. “Can you give me anything concrete?” he asked. “I need some reason for showing up there.”
Shannon told him how he had gotten locked up inside True Light’s compound when he tried to see her. “Some professional muscle came an hour later and threatened to kill Melissa and frame me for her murder if I didn’t leave,” he added.
“You’re shitting me.”
“Nope.”
“How about coming in and giving a statement?”
“Wouldn’t do any good. They’ll manufacture dozens of witnesses with an alternative story.”
“Which would be?”
After clearing his throat, Shannon said, “That I assaulted a couple of them.”
“Any truth to that?”
“Anything I did was in self-defense.”
“Why don’t you tell me what happened.”
Shannon told him about the two robed stooges.
“Fuck. So you went there and beat up two of their members. Goddamit, Shannon, you were supposed to be a smart guy.”
“They swung at me first. I just reacted.”
“By bouncing their heads off an iron gate?” Daniels asked, exasperated. “I’ll check things out alright. See if I need to bring you in on assault and battery charges.”
Shannon ignored the latter part of his statement. “Just check that she’s okay. I’ve got a picture of Melissa I can give you if you need one,” he said.
“Don’t need it, her mother faxed one over months ago and it’s still in her file.”
“Can you call me after you check on her?”
“You bet I’ll call you,” Daniels said somewhat disgustedly. “Especially since I’ll be bringing you in in handcuffs afterwards if they file charges against you.”
“I’ll give you odds they don’t.”
Daniels only grunted and hung up without giving any indication whether he cared to take that bet.
When Shannon arrived at his apartment, he found that Susan had already left for Emily’s which he was grateful for-especially after he saw his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The area under his eye was puffed out and already a dark bluish-purple, and his cheek and upper jaw were badly swollen and discolored. He looked almost like he was wearing a mask on half his face. The older Russian must’ve wore a ring because he had left him cut up pretty good where he’d been hit. There were other cuts along his face which he couldn’t account for. He cleaned up as well as he could, gritting his teeth when he applied antiseptic, and using bandages where he could. Still, it didn’t help much. He looked even worse than he felt, and he felt like crap.
After finishing with his face he worked on his hand, cleaning out the long stretch of raw flesh where his skin had been scraped off, then wrapping a bandage around it. He noted with grim humor how the bandage obscured the fact that he was missing two fingers. When he was done, he slowly removed his shirt, which was torn and had been left with an interesting pattern of blood splattered across it-something that would’ve made many a modern artist proud. Squinting, he could make out a grinning demonic face in the pattern, complete with two reddish streaks that served as horns. Most of the blood had come from the younger Russian, but he was sure some of it was his own. A bruise the size of a large grapefruit showed on his chest. He methodically tested the area, pushing his fingers against each rib. It was painful, but not enough to make him think any of them were cracked or broken. Most likely just bruised. After slowly chewing several aspirin, he held onto the rest of the bottle.
When he was done he put on a clean shirt; also changed his pants which had gotten a fair amount of blood smeared on them. Then, taking a deep breath and trying to ignore the butterflies fluttering around his stomach, he set off down the hallway to Emily Janney’s apartment, Susan’s best friend in Boulder. When Susan saw him and her face started to crumble, Shannon felt his heart turn to sludge.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” he told her, his voice sounding to him as if it were echoing from within a chamber. “I’m really okay.”
She shook her head hastily, fighting to hold back the tears. “I thought when we left Massachusetts we were all done with this. I didn’t think I’d ever have to see you like this again.”
