Then I’m going to let you talk me out of it. By the way, I’ve been figuring, one thing and another, and I figure the church can raise two hundred thousand dollars without breaking much of a sweat. Hell, Emmett, you could raise it by yourself, probably. I’m gonna need that money, and soon.”

Emmett said, “I don’t think—”

“Don’t bullshit me, Emmett. I’ve been living out here all my life, and I know who’s got what. And when I tell you the plan, I don’t think you’ll worry too much about the money. So: one hour, at my place. No guns.”

She hung up, and the Einstadts looked at each other for a few seconds, and then Junior asked, “Are we going?”

Emmett Einstadt nodded and said, “Not much choice. She’s in deeper than we are—she’s a cop killer—so it couldn’t really be a trap.”

Leonard asked, “I wonder how she knew we were going to wring her neck?”

“Let’s you and me find out,” Emmett said.

LEONARD HAD SENT his wife, Mary, and the three kids off to the supermarket, to keep the meeting with his father close to the vest. He and Emmett left for Jackson, and Junior sat in the living room, looking out the window, until Mary’s Ford Explorer turned up the drive.

She met him with a smile in the driveway—she always liked him—and he helped carry the groceries in. The three kids were still too small to have received the Spirit, and they put them in the front room to watch television and went up the stairs.

Mary, a jolly blonde, said, “You always had a hard time waiting, on meeting nights, didn’t ya?” and Junior helped her unbutton her blouse and she helped him undo his pants and she fell back on the bed, all white as marble—Junior loved the blondes, he told his pals, because you could see so much more—and she said, “How do you want this, brother? You want it quick, or you want something you can watch?”

IN JACKSON, the night was just coming on when the Einstadts left the truck in the street and crunched up the packed snow on the driveway to Spooner’s place. Spooner had been looking for them. She opened the side door, waved them upstairs, then backed away into the living room, where she’d set a chair against the wall. She dropped down into the chair with a pistol in each hand. She did like the feel of them.

The Einstadts came in, checked the guns, and she pointed the men at the couch. When they were sitting, she asked, “Whose harebrained idea was it to bring up Birdy?”

Emmett Einstadt said, “Not harebrained. They’ve got her name and they’re looking for her. If she’s still living under it, they could find her. She could be a real danger.”

“But you don’t know that she lives in Dallas,” Spooner said.

“No.”

Leonard said, “What’s this big idea you’ve got, that’s gonna save us all?”

She said, “I want you to talk me out of it. If you can’t, I’m gonna go ahead.”

“What is it?” Emmett asked.

“I’m gonna confess.”

The Einstadts looked at each other, as though they might have heard wrong, and Emmett asked, “What the heck are you talking about?”

“I’m going to confess that I was there when Jim killed himself,” Spooner said. “I’m going to confess that I was sucking his cock, and I’m going to confess that he might have been scared because they were afraid they’d find his DNA on the Tripp boy, and then on Kelly Baker. And they’re looking for Liberty, so I’m going to give them Liberty. What do you think?”

Emmett said, “You should have your mouth washed out with soap. If you can’t control your language—”

“Give me a fuckin’ break, Emmett,” Spooner said. “You been in my face as often as any—if I wasn’t sucking your cock, what was I doing? Felt like suckin’ to me.”

“Sexual contact—”

“Hold the bullshit, Emmett. Okay? Just this once?”

Emmett said, “You don’t have to give them Liberty. They’ve already got Liberty.” He recounted Loewe’s story of his interview with Flowers and Coakley.

“All the better,” Spooner said. “They don’t know that I know about that—so when I give them Liberty, I won’t be giving them anything new, and at the same time, it’ll make it seem like I’m telling the truth.”

Leonard cut to the heart of it: “Your idea can’t be as goofy as it sounds. I’m still listening.”

So she told them about it, in detail.

13

A battered Ford F350 dually sat next to the barn when Virgil turned