A Mighty Fortress (50 page)

“Give me a break, Porter. I’m on your side.”

“Speaking of the girl,” the judge said, “where is she?”

I glanced at C-Rod, and then back to Pinkerton as the guilt hit me in the gut. “Shields has her.”

Pinkerton’s gray eyes drilled a hole in me.
 

“Don’t worry, Judge. I’m going to get her back.”

“If what you say is true,” C-Rod said, “what makes you think she’s still alive?”

I nodded at the videos. “Because she knows about these, and I told her this morning to use them as leverage if she had to. If anything happens to her, Shields should know by now that these videos will be released.”

“And that means he’ll be looking for you,” C-Rod said.

“That’s right,” I said. “Which is why he wanted you to bring me in.”

C-Rod nodded while he thought things over for a long minute. Then he said, “So what’s the plan?”

“Wait outside,” I said. “I need a minute alone with the judge.”

“Did you copy these?” I whispered to the judge once we were alone.

He nodded. “I copied them and did everything else you told me to do.”

“Good,” I said. I closed the judge’s laptop, assembled all the DVDs Alexi had sent me, and led the judge into his kitchen. “I’m taking the DVDs. I want you to take your laptop with you and get away for a few days. Go somewhere safe and lay low. If anything happens to me and Angie, you know what to do with the videos.”

Pinkerton nodded. “What are you planning on doing?”

“Like I said, I’m going to save the girl.”

He shook his head solemnly. “Sorry, Porter, I don’t know that anyone can save her now.”

I was afraid he was right.

I found C-Rod staring at his ringing cell phone. He turned when he saw me close the door behind me as I left Pinkerton’s condo.

“That Shields?” I asked.

He nodded. “He’s called twice since I got out here. Probably wondering where the hell I am.”

“Let him wait.”

“Listen to me, Porter, the safest thing we can do now is take those videos in and address this head-on.”

I shook my head. “All that will do is guarantee that she dies. Shields knows he’s in a corner. He’ll want to take everyone down with him.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“I need you to give me some cover at my place while I get something I need.”

“The original videos?”
 

I wished he hadn’t asked that question; I was having a hard enough time trusting him. So I just shook my head.

After a moment, he seemed game for playing along. “Okay, Porter. We go to your place. And then what?”

“Then, you’ll let me escape.”

C-Rod pulled into my driveway. It was early afternoon, and I could feel the heat beating against the windshield like an army of invisible demons.
 
He glanced in both directions, up and down my street. “So what the hell’s so important you need to risk coming here?”
 

I might have grinned. “Would you believe a phone number?”

He shrugged, and I knew that he believed me. I almost asked him to come with me, just to make sure the coast was clear.
 

I’d soon wish I had.

My plan was to get in, find the phone number I’d put my ass on the line to retrieve, and then get the hell out. But that changed the moment I stepped foot in my kitchen.

I guess you could say I knew he’d be there before I actually saw him.

Whoever the hell he was, he sat at my kitchen table, just as he eventually had the first time I’d met him. His white guayabara was as radiant as it had been at our first meeting, too. Seeing it shine like that, I wondered whether the damn thing ever got dirty.
 

“Your name’s not Giuseppe,” I said.

He shrugged. “I never said it was.”
 

“Who are you?”

He shrugged again. “I told you to call me Gus.” His eyes seemed to deepen with that statement, as if they were waiting for something from me or from above.

“And I told you why I didn’t want to call you that.”

He smiled, a little warmer than I’d ever seen him smile. “So you did. Now that that’s behind us, I see that you found the girl. Nice work.”

“Don’t speak too soon. She’s fallen into the wrong hands again.”

“It’ll work out. It always does.”

“You lied to me,” I said.

“That’s a serious accusation. I did no such thing.”

“Well, you certainly didn’t tell me everything.”

“I told you enough. Besides, you weren’t ready for everything. Still aren’t.”

“Then I’ll repeat: who are you? Better yet,
what
are you?”

He smiled. It was strange seeing him like this, because I could never remember what my Pops looked like in his early thirties. But now, here he was, or at least some iteration of him, not looking a day over thirty-three, except for the white hair. He was strong, built like someone who could hold his own in a fight, but still gentle, warm, and loving.

“Who do you think I am?” he asked.

“The girl you wanted me to find, she’s been visited all week by an angel who looks just like her mom.”

Gus shrugged again. “She’s not really her mom. It’s just that when you see us, well, we’re likely to look like the person you’ve lost whom you loved the most.”

I’m sure my eyes were watering. “I loved my mom, too.”

He chuckled at that. “Yeah, but would she have scared the shit out of you?”

“Who said you scared the shit out of me?”

“Come now, son, I saw you shaking that day I first sat here across from you.”

“Don’t call me
son
. Besides,
Pops
, you misled me. About a lot of things.”

He nodded. “I may have let you be misled. But I didn’t lie.”

“You said you worked for the family.”

“And I do.”

I crossed my arms. “The
Scalzo
family?”

He shook his head. “I never said that.”

“You knew that’s what I was thinking.”

“And I knew I’d get to correct your misunderstanding one day. And here we are.” He smiled and tilted his head.

“Then what family do you work for?”

“You know.” He nodded heavenward. “The Father, Son, Holy Ghost. That family.”

I pinched my arm. Hard. I didn’t think he could see me do it, but apparently he did, because he reached across the table, grabbed my right tit, and gave it a hard twist. “Ouch!” I cried.

“You’re not dreaming, Milo.” He pulled his chair closer to me and leaned over the table. “Time to get serious. I take it you understand who I am now?”

As the pain wore off, I moaned and gasped, “A gun-wielding
angel
?”

He grinned and nodded faintly. “It takes all types to build a Kingdom.”

“Or a figment of my imagination?”

He shook his head and reached for my chest again.
 

“I get it. You can make me feel pain. That doesn’t mean you’re real. The subconscious...”

“There now, Milo, you’re starting to sound like her. You really think you felt that pain because your subconscious wanted you to?”

“What about what happened in the Everglades? I saw you. She saw you. They saw you.”

“Are you sure about that? Are you
really
sure?”

I closed my eyes and tried as hard as I could to replay in my mind what had really happened by the canal in the Everglades. “She was screaming when you held the gun to her head and pulled the trigger.”
 

“Milo, she was screaming because she’d just seen you kill two guys and she wondered what the hell you were going to do next.”

I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe it. I remembered Angie asking me who Gus was when we were leaving the Everglades. Or had she only asked about “the other guy?” If so, could she have meant Jimmy? I wanted to jump out of my kitchen and run as fast as I could. But I knew there was nowhere to run to. Still, even what Gus was saying didn’t make sense to me. “If she couldn’t see you, why the hell did you try scaring her with the gun?”

“Who said I was trying to scare her?”

“Then what the hell were you doing?”

He picked up his gun and admired it. “This is a special gun, Milo. It doesn’t kill people.”

“Then what does it do if it doesn’t kill?”

“Oh, it kills. Just not people.”

I swallowed hard and realized how dry my throat felt. “Then what does it kill?” But I already had an idea.

He nodded solemnly. “Demons.” Then he studied me for a cold moment. “I’m sorry, Milo. She didn’t see me. She was screaming about you.”

“So you were killing her demon?”

“Demons. Her inner demons. It takes a while for them to die. I guess you could say the shot got it started, and what happens today is going to finish the job.”

“And what’s gonna happen today?”

“I guess that’s for you to find out. Suffice it to say, your work isn’t done yet.”

I felt sadness fall over me, and I suddenly felt alone, more alone than I could ever remember feeling. It must’ve shown, because he asked me, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m not well, Pops. I don’t sleep well. Things don’t make sense to me. What I’ve seen and been through, what I see happen in the world every day. I have a hard time making sense of it all. I have a hard time with things.”

“I know you do. And that’s why I’m here, and why you’ll see me from time to time.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means we have a lot of work to do, Milo.”

“What if I’m not up for it?”

His eyelashes fluttered apologetically. “It’s your calling, Milo. It’s your cross to bear.”

“My cross to bear?” I mumbled. I stared across the table. He looked as real as any other man I’d ever seen sitting there or anywhere else for that matter.

He nodded and said, “That’s right. But don’t worry. He’ll get you through it.”

“
He
?”

“I think you know who I’m talking about, right?”

I nodded. All I could feel was terror. I wanted to think of something else. Something comforting. “So, you ever see Ma?”

He shook his head. “It don’t work that way. She’s not an angel. People don’t become angels. I was made this way.”

“And you just happen to look like my Pops?”

“That’s right. Because you couldn’t bear to see the real me, at least not now.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would blind you if it didn’t kill you.”
 

“What would?”

He glanced up. “The glory.”

I swallowed.

“I know this is a lot to take in, but we need your help, Milo. And you obviously need ours.”

I tapped my finger a few times on the tabletop. “I think I’ll talk to Dr. J first, if you don’t mind.”

“Whatever you gotta do.”

“Would you mind if I talk to her about this?”

He shook his head nice and coolly. “Not at all. It doesn’t matter what pills or therapy she gives you, it won’t stop you from seeing me.” He stood up, as though he knew something was about to happen, and then he headed for the back door.

“Why do you need my help?” I cried. “If you work for the guy upstairs or wherever he is, then you know who killed Scalzo. Why do you need me to solve your case?”

“Who said we needed you to figure out who killed Scalzo?”

“Then why are you here?”

He grinned. “Why are
you
here?”

“I came here for a phone number.”

“That’s right. You’re here for a phone number. You should make that call.”

“What?”

He opened the door. “You heard me.” And with that, he stepped through the blinds and disappeared.

I started after him, but took a step back when the blinds started rattling again.

“What the hell are you doing?” C-Rod asked through the blinds when he saw me frozen in a dumbfounded stupor.

“Did you just see someone leaving?” I asked.

He looked outside in both directions. “Where?”

I nodded in his direction. “Coming out that door?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean, just now?” My throat felt like it was coated in sand.

“Are you okay, Porter?”

I tried playing it cool, but that wasn’t easy. “I was just wondering why you were coming through the back door instead of the front door. Is something wrong?”

“I came through this way because I’ve been ringing your doorbell for five minutes.”

“Oh, yeah. I need to replace that thing.”

C-Rod stared me down as though he were gauging my sanity. I would’ve done the same thing if I could have stared at myself.

“Are you ready?” he said.

I took a deep breath. “Could you give me a minute?”

I locked myself in my study and found the number I’d come home for.
 

I was about to place the call when I noticed Rico’s Bible. It sat next to my computer, presumably where I’d left it the evening I first picked it up and read about the greatest love of all, right before Shields nearly killed Kara and me.
 

I turned to the preceding book and found the parable. The same one I’d read in the taxi the morning after I was shot in Wilcox’s office. And the same one Jerry Harkin had read to me at the First Baptist Church of Wauchula. And I thought about Gus and exactly why he’d been on me all week to find the girl.

It was starting to make sense. It was just absurd enough to make sense.
 

I set down the Bible and picked up my phone.

It was time to give Bob Hunter an update.

And to ask him for a favor. A big one.

C-Rod was on his phone when I rejoined him in the kitchen. He waved for me to be quiet. “No,” he said into the phone. “I lost him.” I could tell that whoever was on the other end of the call was reaming C-Rod a new one, and I had a pretty good idea who was doing the reaming. Finally, C-Rod cut him off and said, “I’ll explain later. Yes, I’m on my way.”

He closed the phone and looked to me.
 

“Shields?” I asked.

“Of course.”

“We need to get the hell out of here.”

“Where to?”