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"Burris, let's get something straight. Have I ever told you not not to check out tips?" to check out tips?"
"No, sir. I didn't mean that. I meant -"
"I sometimes wonder, Corporal, when I'm talking to you, if I should even be in the room. I mean, as you seem to be able to carry out the whole conversation without my help at all. You imagine imagine I say something, and you answer, and then you I say something, and you answer, and then you imagine imagine I say something else, and you reply to that. I'd appreciate it if now and then you'd check in with me, to see if what you think I'm saying bears any correspondence to what I really I say something else, and you reply to that. I'd appreciate it if now and then you'd check in with me, to see if what you think I'm saying bears any correspondence to what I really am am saying. How about that?" saying. How about that?"
"Yes sir."
"In this city, Corporal, we're very big about checking out tips. But we try to do it without making one of our oldest families feel like they're the subject of some kind of crazy witch hunt."
"Yes sir."
The Chief then turned to the Lieutenant. "What are your thoughts here, Jim?"
The Lieutenant looked uneasy. His eyebrows flew out jaggedly from his brow. He said, "Chief, I think you hit the nail right on the head."
"Good," said the Chief.
"Though in fairness, it was a sticky situation, and Burris was only trying his best, you know, and -"
"Oh, that's true," said the Chief. "I have to give you that, Corporal. You always do 'try your best'."
"Thank you, sir."
"You try your d.a.m.nedest."
"Thank you, sir."
"But next time? How about consulting with one of us or one of the detectives before you follow these leads. OK?"
"Yes, sir."
" 'Cause if you don't? I will fire your a.s.s, and I don't give a d.a.m.n if you've vested your G.o.dd.a.m.n pension or not. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir."
"You can go."
"Thank you sir."
"Catch some drunks for us, OK, Deppity Dawg? That's something you do very well."
Tara took a shower to wash the sand off, and then retreated to her room. She looked at her email. More of the deluge. Kudos and congratulations by the thousands. She kept scrolling through the list, though she didn't know what she was seeking. A note from Clio? Though had she found one, she wouldn't have been able to read it. took a shower to wash the sand off, and then retreated to her room. She looked at her email. More of the deluge. Kudos and congratulations by the thousands. She kept scrolling through the list, though she didn't know what she was seeking. A note from Clio? Though had she found one, she wouldn't have been able to read it.
Then an address caught her eye.
A message from Dad. Posted just a few minutes ago. She tapped OPEN.
Hon I'm going to tell the fbi. Ive been thinking a lot. I don't trust that burrus. I know i did the right thing lying to him, but the fbi wont be fools. Theyll track the calls that Shaw makes. They got gps on cell phones now so therfore theyll find Romeo easy and catch him. And shaw too. They'll kill them clean. But if we wait till soembody makes a mistake or Romeo goes crazy or some reporter guesses something we will all die can't sit and wait for that. I love you more than the world. The BIBLE says watch ye, stand fast in the faith, be strong.
It wasn't just fear that rose up in her then, but anger also. She hit REPLY and wrote: Dad,The FBI, they screw up all the time. People get killed. If you tell them, you'll get US killed! Daddy, dont! if they make one mistake! we will LOSE. But if we play along with Shaw and let him have the money we'll be OK. He wont hurt us. If he hurts us, he knows he'll lose everything, but if we push him he'll have nothing to lose. Dad, I know how much you hate him. I hate him worse. When he opens his mouth I get sick. He thinks now hes some kind of prophet but people only love him for the money and hes a coward. But once he gets the money he'll try to run and that's when we'll call th4e FBI. He won't get away! I know its frustrating doing nothing, but please, Dad, please don't try to tell the FBI. Please please please. Dad, I know how much you hate him. I hate him worse. When he opens his mouth I get sick. He thinks now hes some kind of prophet but people only love him for the money and hes a coward. But once he gets the money he'll try to run and that's when we'll call th4e FBI. He won't get away! I know its frustrating doing nothing, but please, Dad, please don't try to tell the FBI. Please please please.
She reread, made a few corrections, deleted the number 4. She put please please please please please please in caps. in caps.
She knew that by writing this she was doing exactly what Shaw would want. She was even starting to sound like him: I know it's frustrating. I know it's frustrating.
She pressed SEND.
She waited. Every few seconds, a new email came in from one of her fans. She didn't touch them. She stared at the screen.
Finally she got a reply: OK.
As she was looking at this, she heard some commotion outside. A flurry of flashbulbs.
She cracked the curtain. A crowd had gathered around Bill Phillips, the man with 'reflex sympathetic dystrophy'. He was no longer in his wheelchair; he was walking - sort of. With someone on either side to steady him. And he went only a few steps before they eased him back into the chair.
The folks loved it though. They shouted "Praise the Lord!" and looked toward the house and called to him, "Shaw!" "Father!" "Father, come see this!" "Praise the Lord!"
Tara felt another wave of anger.
Now they worship worship him? him?
She lay down in her bed. She felt as though she had not slept in weeks. But as soon as she shut her eyes she had a vivid picture of herself stepping out of the ocean, with Shaw McBride watching her.
She forced her eyes open again.
Out in the yard the pilgrims were calling his name: "Shaw!" "Shaw!" "Father!"
Her eyes fell shut again. She was on the beach, coming into Shaw's arms. She had no strength to resist him. The power he held over her life had damaged her. She imagined him lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around him, with her head against his chest so she could hear the beating of his heart, and his c.o.c.k was inside her. She started touching herself, feathering her c.l.i.toris with two fingers. She couldn't stop; she needed to touch herself while she thought of his strength, and she was trembling and bathed in sweat, and as she started to climax she could hear all those voices outside.
"Shaw!" "Father!" "Lord!" "Father, heal me!" "Heal me!" "Praise the Lord!"
Romeo sat in the McDonald's on the Scranton Connector Road near the mall. He'd come for the Wifi. He sat with fries and a c.o.ke while he consulted the keylogger he'd planted. It had picked up an email from Mitch to his daughter. sat in the McDonald's on the Scranton Connector Road near the mall. He'd come for the Wifi. He sat with fries and a c.o.ke while he consulted the keylogger he'd planted. It had picked up an email from Mitch to his daughter.
Now why should Mitch be sending an email to his daughter? It gave Romeo a bad feeling, even before he read it. And after he read it, he was crushed. It broke his heart.
He stared out the window at the kids tumbling in the playhouse.
Trying to summon some strength. That he had known this was coming didn't help. He thought, Why Why are you so stupid, Mitch? Is it that you can't see the horror that's looming over us? This is your are you so stupid, Mitch? Is it that you can't see the horror that's looming over us? This is your family family you're risking. How can you risk the lives of your family for the sake of your wounded pride? you're risking. How can you risk the lives of your family for the sake of your wounded pride?
And Clio! How can you do this to Clio?
He forced himself to turn back to the laptop and read Tara's reply.
Shaw had seen Diane Sawyer on TV a thousand times, and what had attracted him the most was the sense that beneath all her sweetness and generosity were the depths of the Arctic Sea. But close up it was different - it wasn't iciness he felt from her, but a kind of steady imperial radiance. She sat on one of the wing chairs, with Tara and Mitch and Patsy on the couch, and Jase on the floor. Shaw sat across from her in the other wing chair. Her gaze floated from one Boatwright to another, and finally back to him, and she spoke in that dry murmur: had seen Diane Sawyer on TV a thousand times, and what had attracted him the most was the sense that beneath all her sweetness and generosity were the depths of the Arctic Sea. But close up it was different - it wasn't iciness he felt from her, but a kind of steady imperial radiance. She sat on one of the wing chairs, with Tara and Mitch and Patsy on the couch, and Jase on the floor. Shaw sat across from her in the other wing chair. Her gaze floated from one Boatwright to another, and finally back to him, and she spoke in that dry murmur: "Shaw. All these people outside. All these... people people."
"Yes."
"They keep coming."
"Yeah. Too many now. We gotta move tomorrow. Going to some kind of fairgrounds."
"And I understand you've had a few emails?"
He dipped his head. Amiable beleaguerment. "A few."
"How many?"
"Um. Thousands."
"Thousands?"
"Yeah."
"Shaw, what do they want?"
"Well. I guess they want to think there's some meaning to all this."
"To what?"
"To life."
Her smile was impeccably composed. She was a planet in a perfectly elliptical orbit, with the cameras gliding like moons behind her. It was a spellbinding show. "And they're coming to you. Why? Because of your luck? Because of your money?"
"Because of the Lord."
"You think the Lord is calling you?"
"I think the Lord's calling everyone. Maybe we don't want to hear Him. Too busy thinking about money. All this mortgage stuff and market stuff, we can't hear nothin'. But sooner or later, He's gonna get through."
She turned to Tara. "Tara, when your father told you that your family would have to split the jackpot, what was your first thought?"
Tara considered. "Well. I guess, I guess for a second I was thinking, Daddy, do we have have to? Does this guy even have to to? Does this guy even have to know know?"
One of the cameras sneaked over to take in Shaw shaking his head and laughing.
Then Tara said, "But then... I got to know him ..."
She sent him a quick glance - misty-eyed, with a note of yearning. He knew she was doing it for the cameras, for the sake of the people she loved - but still, wasn't it a little bit real? Her blush, that was real. And the look of contentment on her mother's face - he knew that that was real. Patsy was pleased to put her life in his hands. And Jase belonged to him, he was certain of that. Even Mitch seemed almost at ease now. And the pilgrims were out there waiting for him, with legions more ready to come. I've woven this whole world out of pure faith. It's a kind of magical tapestry of faith and love and power, and it's come alive now - was real. Patsy was pleased to put her life in his hands. And Jase belonged to him, he was certain of that. Even Mitch seemed almost at ease now. And the pilgrims were out there waiting for him, with legions more ready to come. I've woven this whole world out of pure faith. It's a kind of magical tapestry of faith and love and power, and it's come alive now - Vibration in his pocket. Romeo was calling.
Diane Sawyer said, "Tara, when Shaw says he's going to give away all his money... do you believe him?"
"Yes."
"You don't think he's a little crazy?"
Tara softly bit her lower lip. The camera closed on her.
"No. I think he's beautiful."
And Diane Sawyer was beaming. Beaming! She must be wondering, is this love? Has Tara fallen for Shaw? If this is love, it's the love story of the year! But again Shaw felt the trembling - the f.u.c.king phone. Romeo's second call. Which meant some emergency, which probably wasn't anything at all - but still, he had had to answer it. to answer it.
Diane Sawyer was asking Tara about all the money, what the money would do to her family. The cameras left Shaw for a moment, and he pulled the phone from his pocket and held it low and flipped it open. Romeo had sent him a text: Mutiny. Tara & mitch. Emails. Going to cops. Plan to kill us. Mutiny. Tara & mitch. Emails. Going to cops. Plan to kill us.
He shut the phone, and looked up.
Tara was telling Diane Sawyer, "Well, the things that Shaw is talking about, I think they're true. Money should should be about what good you can do with it. If you keep it for yourself? You'll be miserable. If you show love with it? You'll be happy. I think he's right about that. You know, he keeps saying how much my father has taught him? But now he's the one teaching us." be about what good you can do with it. If you keep it for yourself? You'll be miserable. If you show love with it? You'll be happy. I think he's right about that. You know, he keeps saying how much my father has taught him? But now he's the one teaching us."
Her most dazzling smile.
Shaw wondered, How can she do it? How can she be so glib? Such a liar, such a heartfelt liar down to her bones! And her father next to her! That weasely c.u.n.t of a man. Lying to the world. The hypocritical liars liars!
Diane Sawyer turned to him: "This family seems to like you, Mr. McBride."
He gathered himself, and forced a grin. "Well, they're sort of my my family now. They have to like me." family now. They have to like me."
Everyone laughed.
But he was thinking: How do we make you suffer?
There's been no dream in history but f.u.c.kers like you have torn it apart with your lies, treason, and selfishness. But this time there'll be a price. A price you'll be paying for the rest of time, you cowardly s.h.i.ts. Who did you think you were dealing with?
The moment the interview was over, he signaled the producer, who came over and detached him from the mike. He went to the little bathroom next to Jase's room and held down the number 7 on his cell phone.
Romeo answered. "Took you long enough."
"Just tell me," said Shaw.
Romeo read him the emails.
Shaw said, "Listen, I don't have any privacy here. I'm in this cramped little s.h.i.tbox. It's like the s.h.i.tbox in Wendell Redinski's trailer, you remember that? Like it's made out of cardboard. But, G.o.d. My G.o.d she's gonna suffer. Her whole family. They'll suffer like they didn't believe such suffering was possible."
"Shaw, we don't have to -"
"Don't tell me we don't have to. You know we have to. We have to shove the suffering up their spines like electrical current."
"Shaw -"
"I mean pity these f.u.c.kers."
Patsy got to talk to Diane Sawyer for a few minutes after the show, just one on one, chatting while the crew took what they called B-roll footage. She asked Diane about her favorite charities, and Diane mentioned the Robin Hood Foundation. Patsy said she'd like to make a little donation. Saying it so Diane would know she didn't really mean got to talk to Diane Sawyer for a few minutes after the show, just one on one, chatting while the crew took what they called B-roll footage. She asked Diane about her favorite charities, and Diane mentioned the Robin Hood Foundation. Patsy said she'd like to make a little donation. Saying it so Diane would know she didn't really mean little. little.
She wished Shaw were here to see her. But he'd gone off somewhere.
She walked Diane out to her hired car: a somber black Lexus LS hybrid. The pilgrims lined the driveway and applauded, and Diane was kind enough to stop for a moment and chat with them. A woman that Patsy detested, a Mrs. Riley, came up and started flapping her jaw, making derogatory comments about Ellen DeGeneres, as though Diane wanted to hear that! As though Diane Sawyer were as catty and mean-spirited and compet.i.tive as Mrs. Riley! Patsy told Mrs. Riley, "It's too bad we're in such a rush because we'd love to talk." Not harsh, not unpleasant, but whap, whap, it did shut the woman up. it did shut the woman up.
As Patsy and Diane walked on, Diane murmured, "Thank you."
And they chuckled together and Patsy thought, maybe it's true, what Shaw says about me: I preside preside.