He went through his list again. He wouldn’t have to worry about any serious charges regarding the kidnappings. He took part in neither (quite the opposite). Fingerprints and DNA at the junkyard weren’t a concern. They were all very careful to wear gloves. There could have been some hair flying, some blood maybe, but finding it uncontaminated amidst all that garbage…unlikely. None of it would hold up anywhere. The whole thing relied on eye witnesses. Ian Reilly wasn’t coming forward. He was in just as deep as the UJ at this point. The sanctimonious black guys from the rumble? If any of them had spoken up, Rick’s apartment door would have been broken down with a battering ram.
Maybe he slipped up with the nun.
No, I was careful.
Heroism was uncharted territory for him, but those bastards forcibly brought a nun to a painting party… a NUN! It seemed like a strange place to draw the line, considering he was perfectly willing to take part in the brutal murder of a policeman, but he had his reasons.
All members of the UJ were guarded when it came to their personal lives. Rick had plenty of secrets, not at the bottom of the list was his favorite aunt…Sister Catherine of the Holy Trinity in Dover Delaware. He hadn’t spoken to her for a while.
I should call her.
He considered his surroundings.
Maybe tomorrow.
5. The Emergency Room at PMMC
“Mom, I’m fine. I had a fight. Kids get into fights. It happens every day. Stop touching me mom!”
The Weiss’s were in the hospital emergency ward six floors down from Kevin Reilly. The doctor had just finished up with Gordy and was one-handedly typing something into a tablet. Mrs. Weiss had requested a pediatrician but had to settle for one of Southeastern Pennsylvania’s finest emergency room specialists.
“I’m going to have your son sent for x-rays just as a precaution, but I doubt they’ll find anything. Whoever did this knew how to administer pain without causing any permanent damage.”
Mrs. Weiss wasn’t buying it.
“That’s ridiculous! Something’s broken. I know it!”
“Mom!”
“No really, Mrs. Weiss. Trust me. I’ve seen this before. Now, the nurse will be in soon to take him to radiology. In the meantime, here’s a prescription for painkillers and the name of a top-notch counselor who specializes in teen trauma if Gordy needs...”
“I don’t”
Gordy didn’t care about his superficial injuries, or trauma therapy, or even lovely, lovely painkillers. Braden Reilly had broken him. He recalled what the punk Irish mama’s boy screamed at him while he was delivering the beating.
“Where are they!!? Where’s the UJ Gordy!!? Who are you more afraid of right now!!? What could they do to you that’s more painful than this!!? You Freak!!”
What worse could the UJ do? Physically, nothing, and that’s all that mattered to Gordy as Braden’s knee grinded into his spine, while both arms were being pulled back to the point where it felt like his shoulders were about to separate. He could have lied. He could have given Braden any location in Montgomery County, but his lie construction process was too complicated, and his brain froze, causing him to blurt out the truth.
What worse could the UJ do? They could kick him out. His life would mean nothing. He’d spend his days riding around town on his lame-ass bike avoiding anyone in a black trench coat, only to return to his shitty life with his shitty parents. Braden had probably already gone to his dad. His dad would go to the cops. The cops would go to the cloister, and it would all come back to Gordy. He couldn’t lie to Braden, but he would have to lie to Arthur. It would need to be one of his genius lies, which meant his starting point would be the truth.
And the truth was he was a pussy.
5. The Woods
”Pow – ping!”
Philip needed to think.
“How the hell am I going to pull this off?
He’d gotten away with superficial disguises up to this point, but those days were over. In order for the next great act to work, he’d have to impersonate a priest.
“It won’t be enough to look like one. I’ll need to actually be one. We’re talking identity theft here. Now, who do I know that dabbles in identity theft?”
“Pow – ping!”
This one was risky. Executed perfectly, his new target would share the fate of the previous two. Executed less than perfectly, perhaps a dozen innocent bystanders would be killed as well. There was also no option to pull out. “Maybe next time” wasn’t going to fly. Once in motion, the plan would go to the end.
“I’ll need the key. How do I get the key? I doubt Karney keeps it on a hook in his mud room.”
“Pow – ping!”
He had two days.
6. Outside the Reillys’ House
Ian and Molly Reilly’s house was a red brick Cape Cod nestled in a neighborhood less than a mile from Braden’s school. Lynch pulled up to the curb right behind Warner and Gomez. All three of them dismounted, closing their doors with a cluster of slams.
“Been waiting long?”
“Five minutes tops, acho. You ready?”
“Beyond words.”
The driveway wound around the house to the back yard and the garage. The detectives were relieved to see the front bumper of Ian’s truck peeking around the side. They were hoping he was home. They didn’t want to have to deal with his rotundity at the hospital if things got ugly.
They ascended the porch stairs and slapped on some smiles as Gomez rang the bell. The door was answered by someone they did not expect. Carrie, the only one who recognized the woman, spoke.
“June! I didn’t expect you to be here. We didn’t get an update on Kevin today. I hope nothing took a turn…”
The elderly Irish mother of four looked as if she’d been without sleep for weeks.
“Oh no, Carrie, no. Bless your heart. Please, all of you, come in.”
Mint tea.
The house was wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, rank with mint tea. Lynch and Gomez suppressed their gag reflexes while Mrs. Reilly shuffled to
