“Thanks,” he replied.
“You sure she’ll be okay?”
“I have every reason to think so.”
Megan nodded, biting her lip. “I’ll be here waiting.”
Seeing her worried face unnerved Sam; didn’t they have this situation under control?
“I have to go,” he said. He could see the translucent puffs of his own breath in the air. The next time he’d be outside, he would be with Arianna, helping her into this very car.
“Okay,” Megan said. “Be careful with her.”
He nodded. Then he turned on his heels and headed toward the clinic. The black case had grown heavy in his tired arms.
* * *
Trent made sure to wait a few minutes before leaving his apartment, just to allow Dr. Ericson, Emily, and Sam extra time to prepare. He paced back and forth across his room, holding a sheet of paper and muttering the words he had so painstakingly typed. The plan had to work; it hinged on Dopp’s Achilles’ heel. If Trent understood his boss at all, they would be safe.
He ran through the words on the page again and then stuffed the paper into his coat pocket and ran out. A withered part of him had the urge to pray, but he reminded himself that no safety net had ever even existed. Courage had abruptly become more difficult to summon.
The subway ride passed quickly as he concentrated on what he needed to say, while remembering not to come off as rehearsed. As he emerged from the West Fourth Street station, inhaling the cold air, the imminence of the situation struck him. It was too late to second-guess anything; in the next few minutes, the plan would be set in motion. His heart hammered as he approached Arianna’s building. Don’t look nervous, he told himself. You can’t look nervous.
He turned the corner at Fifth Avenue and saw Dopp’s car parked on the curb, right before the sidewalk curved in along the driveway. Squinting at the windshield, Trent could make out the shape of his boss’s head, but not his face. He hurried over to the car, composing his features into a look of anticipation.
He waved at the tinted window, and Dopp pushed open the passenger-side door. His eyes were bloodshot, but he looked alert.
“Hi,” Trent said, stepping into the car. He had never seen its interior, with its dashboard panel of interception devices, buttons, and speakers.
“Why do you think she wanted you to come over?” Dopp demanded in lieu of hello.
Trent widened his eyes and shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’m about to find out.”
“Well, what are you waiting for?” he snapped.
Trent shrugged and jumped out of the car. “Text me if you need to,” he said before closing the door. Then he turned and hurried inside the building.
Good, he thought; Dopp was still his eager self.
Inside the elevator, he rummaged in his coat pocket for his script. He hoped she had her copy in hand. It had taken them twenty-two e-mails during work yesterday to finalize it. He wished they could have practiced it live. As the elevator opened onto her barren hallway, he coughed. There was barely any saliva on his tongue.
He walked to Arianna’s door and knocked loudly. A few seconds later, she opened it with a small smile and raised eyebrows, a tacit: Are you ready?
He nodded back: As ready as ever. “Hi, how are you?” he said, stepping inside.
“I’m okay. Thanks for coming over.”
“Sure. So you got me all curious. What’s going on?”
“Well, why don’t you come sit down.”
She motioned to the kitchen table, and Trent followed her there, then pulled out one of the wooden chairs and sat. On the table were two items: a printed sheet of paper that mirrored his own, and her cell phone. Against the sink, under the window, stood a stepstool, and Trent understood right away why it was there.
Arianna wheeled herself up to the table’s edge and cleared her throat. He could tell she was nervous, as she kept licking her lips and glancing at her own script.
“So,” she said, looking at the piece of paper. “I wanted you to come over so we could talk about something very close to my heart. I’ve been considering discussing it with you for a long time, but I just needed to feel completely ready. It’s the kind of thing I don’t want to regret telling you.” She took a deep breath and exhaled.
“Okay…”
“The thing is that I realized today, finally, that I do trust you. And it’s taken me a while to get to this point, a long while. But I do.”
“Well, that’s good news, though I thought you already did.”
“I’ve been getting there slowly. And now I think I’m ready to take you somewhere very important to me.”
“Really? Where?”
“Hang on. First I owe you an apology. Remember when I told you I went to a church in the East Village?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, I lied. Kind of.”
* * *
Dopp leaned forward so that his nose was nearly touching the car’s speakers. Every muscle in his body was taut, except his pounding heart.
“What do you mean, kind of?” came Trent’s perplexed voice.
“Well, it’s true that I was going to a church in the East Village. But not for the reason you think.”
“Not for prayer services?”
“Right.”
“Why else would you go to church?”
“It’s not any old church. It’s very unconventional. For starters, it’s in the basement of the actual church. And in a back alley that’s pretty filthy, so consider yourself warned about that.”
“Umm. Okay. Is it in a bad neighborhood or something?”
“Well, it’s Alphabet City, what used to be Saint James Church of Christ.”
“Used to be? Can you just tell me what’s going on?”
“I would much rather show you.”
“Why?”
“You’ll see.”
“Okay, but please tell me one thing: You’re not part of a cult, right?”
Moron, Dopp thought. Just go along with her!
He flipped open his laptop and typed, “Saint James Church of Christ, East Village, NYC” into a search engine.
Arianna was chuckling. “No, nothing like that.” Then she let out
