I nodded.
The band played 'Blue Velvet.' We all danced.
'You are a big one, aren't you,' Katie said.
'Yes.'
We had dessert.
Laura said that she would love to interview Hawk and me together sometime. She had a theory about poetry and violence that she wanted to try out on us.
We had some brandy.
Hawk looked at his watch. 'Time to go,' he said. 'I gotta bookie I gotta threaten early tomorrow.'
We all smiled. And got up. And went.
CHAPTER 15
I met Sherry Spellman at the International Food Fair at the Liberty Tree Shopper's Mall in Danvers. Owens brought her and four deacons came with him. I didn't recognize any of the deacons. Fresh troops. The food fair was a semi-circle of fast-food shops around a seating area full of tables. Owens and the deacons sat at a table near the Philly Mignon shop and Sherry joined me near Paco's Tacos.
She was pale blond and somewhat sunburned. Her hair was short and she wore no makeup. She sat down opposite me, folded her hands quietly on the table before her, and waited.
I said, 'Would you care for coffee, or something to eat?'
She shook her head. Her glance drifted over to her churchmates, and then back to me.
I said, 'You know who I am?'
She nodded.
I said, 'How are you?'
'Fine.'
She had a small voice.
'Are you happy?'
'I'm at peace,' she said.
Again her glance drifted to the deacons and back.
I said, 'Look at me. See how big I am?' I opened my coat. 'See the gun?' I took my license out and showed it to her. 'See, I am a licensed private cop.' She looked at me and nodded. 'Now, if you want to leave with me, you can. Owens and the deacons can't stop us. And if you leave with me, I'll protect you as long as you need it.'
She nodded.
I said, 'Would you like to leave with me?'
She shook her head.
'Tommy Banks says you were kidnapped,' I said.
'No,' she said. It was the firmest sound she'd made. 'No, I wasn't.'
'No one tied you up and took you away?'
'No.'
'You joined the church on your own?'
'Yes.'
'Why?'
'Too much hassle,' she said. 'I had to get away.''
'Who was hassling you?'
She shrugged and shook her head. 'Everyone.'
'Tommy?'
She nodded. 'Who else?' She shrugged. 'Dancing was too hard.'
'What was the hardest part?' I said.
'Tommy.'
'A slave driver?'
'He . . . it was just that he wanted me to care about it more than I did. Him too.'
'What did you want?'
'To be by myself To see what I am.'
'You need the church for that?'
'Yes.'
