and finally be with us.’
‘Amen,’ several of them chorused together.
‘Amen,’ he replied. He shook his head and lowered his voice, tempering it with regret. ‘It is grim work He asks of us, but necessary work. None of them can remain here alive.’
He looked up at them. ‘You understand what God is instructing us to do?’
‘To kill them,’ a woman called out.
‘Yes, that’s correct. To kill all those agents of Satan. Go now, get your guns and return here!’
Preston’s people rose swiftly and disbanded in different directions; a hustle of activity, of boots crunching on compacted snow.
CHAPTER 68
Friday
Reno, Nevada
Rose glanced across at him as she overtook a sluggish container truck on the interstate.
‘I still can’t believe Sean’s dead.’
‘Yeah. Apparently he was stabbed by some care-in-the-community type while he was walking his dog.’
‘That’s awful!’ she said, shaking her head. ‘My God, poor Sean.’ She hadn’t seen him in the last year and a half since he’d worked with them on preparing to air Uncommon People. He’d almost been another member of the team, providing them with guidance on what they could get away with airing and what they couldn’t.
‘Nowhere’s safe in London these days, is it?’
‘Sometimes feels that way. If it isn’t someone who should be on meds, it’s a pissed-off hoodie carrying a shank. It depresses the hell out of me.’
She looked across at him. ‘But that’s so creepy, isn’t it?’
‘What?’
‘You met him, then, a couple of days later, he’s dead.’
He puffed air. ‘Creepy. And bloody awful. I still can’t quite believe it, either.’ His fingers drummed on the dashboard.
They sat in silence for a while, both uncertain what to say next.
‘This’ll sound shitty, Rose, but it needs to be said.’
‘What?’
‘I was relying on Sean to fast-track a deal. That’s not going to happen now.’
‘You’re right, it does sound shitty.’
‘Well, sorry. That’s the way it is. As I’m sure you’ve worked out, we’re going to have to pull out of this story for now and head back home.’
‘I suspected as much,’ she replied. ‘How much is left in the bank account?’
‘It’s not good. Just under four thousand.’
‘Great.’
‘I’ll get my agent to pull in some work. We’ll do some crappy corporate stuff, and then head back out here again in a few months’ time. How does that sound?’
‘I don’t suppose we’ve got much choice, have we? Bills to pay.’
‘Bills to pay,’ he echoed quietly.
Rose overtook a slow-moving lumber-laden truck uphill.
‘After I’ve met this guy, we’ll see if Grace can take us out one more time, then we’ll need to check out of the motel and head back.’
‘What guy?’
‘What?’ Julian looked at her. ‘You got the mail?’
She shook her head.
‘Oh, it’s no big deal. Some guy who has an interest in Preston. I hit upon his website. We’ve exchanged a couple of emails. Since I was already coming back, I thought I’d try and hook up with him.’
‘Where?’
‘Actually, he’s coming to Blue Valley.’
‘What?’
Julian shrugged. ‘He’s keen, I guess.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Arnold Zuckerman. Anyway, I’m sure I emailed you that.’ She shook her head. ‘I don’t think so. Communication isn’t exactly your strong suit.’
‘Damn. I could’ve sworn.’
‘Maybe I missed it. Anyway, this Arnold… who is he?’
Julian laughed. ‘I’m imagining a real hardcore historical anorak. But it looks like he’s got some bread and butter on Preston’s background. It’ll be useful. Best we grab all the material we can in the time we’ve got left.’
‘Are you sure he’s not another journo?’
Julian shrugged. ‘Who’s to know? He doesn’t come across as such, just a passionate amateur.’
‘He’s coming to Blue Valley to meet with you?’
‘He offered. Said it wasn’t a problem.’
‘Well, don’t stay up too late. I already arranged with Grace that she’ll take us in again tomorrow morning. She’s meeting us at the park’s camp, early.’
‘Oh, well done. How early?’
‘Seven.’
‘Bugger,’ Julian grumbled. ‘I could’ve done with a lie-in. Can’t we start off a little later?’
‘Let’s not forget she’s doing us the favour, Jules.’
‘Fair point.’
They drove on in silence for a while, long enough that Rose suspected from Julian’s awkward shuffling that he was on the cusp of raising a particular, awkward subject.
‘How’s the good Dr Griffith?’ she asked.
Julian smiled. ‘Looking well, doing well. He sends his best; he thinks highly of you.’
‘As he should.’
‘Actually,’ Julian uttered, pulling out his cell phone, ‘I tried him earlier, but he’s not answering.’ He checked his log. ‘Not called back.’
‘Was he interested in the Preston story?’
‘Very. Perhaps there’s something we can do with him. That’s a follow-up meeting we can have when we get back.’
‘He’s putting some money in?’
Julian made a face. ‘Not sure… maybe. More likely he’d want in on a book of some sort.’
‘Great,’ Rose wilted. ‘Well, that’s me cut out of the loop, then.’
He turned to her. ‘Not at all, Rose, not at all. We discovered this as a team. Anything that comes from it, we share. I promise you that.’
He paused, and she knew he was putting together some thoughts.
‘There’s too much we’ve shared, too much between us, that I’d cut you out like that.’
Too much between us? She wondered what Julian meant by that. They both spoke at the same time.
‘Julian, I-’
‘Did we nearly-?’
She felt her cheeks flush in the deafening silence that followed.
Julian shuffled uncomfortably. ‘Something almost happened between us, or am I mis-remembering and making a fool of myself?’
‘No,’ she snapped quickly, ‘nothing almost happened. We had a few beers, and we were buzzed on the story, just having a laugh… as we always do.’
