Chapter Thirteen
Annie had only been working at the gas station for a week. The place was owned by a friend of her father’s, an old war buddy. He paid her under the table, the station one of the few mom and pop gas stations left in the Marine area.
She later berated herself for being so stupid, but she had to get out of the house. Her father’s sobriety didn’t make her feel any closer to him; she had been surprised by how he no longer kept any liquor around, he had been dry for years. He tried to convince her to talk to the police about what she witnessed, but all she could think about was how Timothy could find her if the police in Marine and back in Seattle started investigating her disappearance. As far as they knew, she was on an extended leave from The Church.
She felt guilty about the man who was shot at the gas station. Another victim of The Marine Sniper. She had been keeping up with the story, but never knew it would come so close to her.
I have enough problems, she thought.
She did not see any connection between Timothy and the sniper at first. Timothy had been trained as a sharp-shooter in the military, becoming one of the best, but Annie had never asked him how many men he had killed in the Middle East. His years in the military, his actions, had been the antithesis of the beliefs of The Church of Mankind. He had not been an agent of peace and enlightenment, but a killer. He had burned a bridge by joining the military, but managed to swim his way back to The Church and his father’s good graces.
Annie had packed her bags, ready to leave Marine, but no buses were running because of the weather. Her father refused to take her to the Greyhound station downtown.
“You said if he came here,” her father said, “you would face him down. He can’t force you to go back. It’s not like you left a child behind.”
Thank God, she thought, that Timothy and I did not have kids. The Church never knew how to deal with children. Bob’s son was proof of that. Poor Archie. Sweet boy.
The homophobia in The Church wasn’t the worse of its crimes. Annie hadn’t left any children, but she left behind the memories of her friends, like June, who had died or disappeared. There were members who had run away, probably hiding with family or in faraway places, hoping no one in The Church would find them.
Annie sat by herself in the kitchen of her parents’ house. She looked out the window to the snow and the strong winds whistling through the cracks in the roof and walls. The kitchen was dark except for the light above the stove. Her father had gone to bed.
David Warren, former U.S. Marine Corps sniper, Vietnam vet. He had medals. Annie’s mother had put them in a big glass frame kept on the wall in the living room with a photo of young Dave in his uniform. To Annie, the young officer and the drunk, cold man who raised her never seemed like the same person. Dave didn’t tell war stories. He had shared few activities with Annie or her mother.
Annie shook her head at the thought of Timothy and the sniper being the same man. Timothy could be capable of almost anything, but if he turned on civilians, then there was no saving him. He had PTSD and, like her father, became more and more remote as the anger and depression closed in. Timothy did not drink or use drugs, but he would sit for hours alone, in and out of their house, usually slipping into the woods outside. Frieda wanted him to get treatment using The Church’s methods, although he was no longer part of the Church. Annie had been afraid that he might attempt suicide, but the act was forbidden by The Church. In those last few weeks, Annie could have sworn he had become possessed. The Church didn’t believe in demonic possession, so Annie tried to rationalize his behavior when he bought a rifle and started going to target practice, something he hadn’t done since before he was discharged. He befriended Archie’s parents, although they had remained in The Church. They were troubled by their son’s homosexuality and the boy had threatened to run away.
Annie knew she wouldn’t sleep tonight. She had read in the paper about the new Church of Mankind in Marine, the prayer vigil they had planned in the park. However, the weather would keep them inside. Matthew Hawkins. She had remembered him as the opposite of Timothy; open, friendly, good-natured. A good, honest soul. Something The Church could use.
The Church needs to reform, Annie thought, because when all of the dirt is dug up, the bodies will be found. Maybe I’ll finally get to speak for June and all of the others without ending up in the ground next to them.
“My parents have already arrived in Marine,” Matthew Hawkins said.
“We have no way of knowing if the sniper is connected to The Church of Mankind,” Ben Garcia said,”but a large gathering might attract him. How many people are you expecting?”
“Close to fifty. The congregation is still growing.”
Ben Garcia was sitting at his desk, speaking with Matthew Hawkins over the phone.
“Won’t more people turn up if your parents are there?” Garcia asked.
“We were even expecting some protesters. We always get a few, picketing the sidewalk. But the weather...”
“No one in Marine would bother, I can tell you that.”
“The vigil is staying inside. It won’t be long. My parents are staying at a hotel nearby.”
“The downtown Holiday Inn?”
“Yes.”
“They should be escorted to and from The Church. Did you inform them of the shootings?”
“Yes, I did, but they still wanted to come.”
“I can send a few officers, Pastor.”
“If you insist. However, I think the only thing to fear tonight is the ice on the roads.”
“Hey, Garcia!”
Garcia said his good-byes, leaving his desk to approach Special Agent Ellen Westwood and her colleague, Agent Mitchell Sand. Sand had been the one calling to him. Sand was almost twenty years younger than the experienced Westwood, an agent for almost thirty years. Westwood was African-American, plump, her hair relaxed and cut short, well-dressed in Hillary Clinton-esque pantsuits. Sand resembled a young Kiefer Sutherland, blond hair in a crew-cut, with a tendency to pull at his tie, as if a suit made him feel imprisoned. Both agents were standing in the hallway outside of Captain Schultz’s office.
“Detective Garcia,” Westwood said,”we just spoke to the owner of the gas station. We made an interesting connection between the sniper and the new cashier who was working that night. Her name is Annie Union, who used to be Annie Warren.”
Garcia shook his head. “The same Annie Union–“
“Who was in hiding with her husband,” Sand said.
“I was just going to ask Schultz to send a few officers to The Church tonight.”
“Good idea,” Westwood said. “I have a bad feeling about the sniper tonight. He’s going to be out.”
“Have you found where Annie is living?”
“With her father.”
Archie eased the truck into a parking space near his motel room door. He kept the truck on so he and Bobby could keep warm, but he turned the headlights off.
“I don’t think I need to tell you about The Church of Mankind,” Archie said. “The faith I was raised in...”
“No. I guess you don’t,” Bobby said.
“When was the last time you spoke to your father?” Archie asked.
“Not since I was six years old.”
“Do you know where he is?”
“Falls River, forty miles from here. But he could have moved away, as far as I know.”
“I look a lot like him,” Archie said.
Bobby looked closely at Archie, realizing why his new friend seemed so familiar; same smile, same blue eyes. “Archie...”
“I was told that your mom divorced our dad because he wouldn’t break off his relationship with my mom. Her name is Marie. Was Marie Holt. She lived here in Marine when they met. Rick might have been around three years old. My mom and your mom used to work together at a shop that made auto parts.”
“Auto Components,” Bobby said. “Mom worked there during the divorce...”
“I gue
ss she was really mad when my mom got pregnant. By then, Mom was reading books by Marshall Union. She moved to Falls River to be close to a group of believers, but wanted to move to a town with a Mankind church. A few years after the divorce, my parents, now married, took me and moved to Oregon to be close to the big church in Seattle. My dad-our dad-became a member.”
“My dad was a criminal,” Bobby said. “A thief.”
“He changed. Robert Chambers Sr. is a practitioner. Takes people into their past lives, does counseling.”
“I can’t believe you, Archie. You must be confused.”
“The one thing Colin and I had in common was that we were looking for someone in Marine. He was looking for his wife Annie and I was looking for my half-brother. Dad knew you were gay. He told me. I kept having past-life memories of a brother. I had been alone in Oregon, an only child. When they found out I was gay, I became a problem to solve. But Dad didn’t want to fix you because you were far away in Michigan. You couldn’t embarrass him...”
Archie wiped his eyes with his gloved fingers. Bobby could feel himself tear up. He took a deep breath. “Archie? Who is Colin?”
“Timothy knew Annie would run back home to Marine if she left him. We traveled by car because he had guns. I didn’t know he was hunting Annie until we were miles away. What could I do? But I fooled him, because he didn’t know you lived at Lakeshore Apartments. But Dad told me before I left. I found Delia’s name in the phone book when we got here. Dad didn’t put up a big argument about me going with Tim, Dad trusted Tim with his life. But Mom didn’t like it. She thought Tim had a nervous breakdown. She was right. He wanted me to help him chase Annie down. He hated her for leaving. She could destroy everything if she went public. There would be no more money to fight over. The empire would crumble.”
Bobby wanted out of the truck. He was feeling trapped. He wanted back to his apartment, his bed, his mother. He was fine with Archie being the troubled friend, not the desperately lonely half-brother in danger.
“Tim had me go into a gun store and steal a carbine for his rifle,” Archie said. “For target practice, he said. My mom said he had given up guns after coming home from the Marines, but he started going to firing ranges back home. Annie didn’t like it, but he would threaten her. Her friend died in one of The Sweat Lodges. Annie and Tim had left The Church by then, but my parents stayed friends with them. They felt sorry for Annie. People were leaving, becoming scattered. Annie wanted out, to leave Seattle. By then, my parents were thinking about moving to Seattle permanently, to be closer to The Church, even though things were becoming strained, angry.”
“If he finds Annie, is he going to make her go back?” Bobby asked.
“No. He’s going to kill her. But Lance and Sophie Hawkins are here to visit Pastor Matt, so I know where Tim is tonight.”
“Did he tell you his plans?”
“He doesn’t tell me much, but I read in the paper that Lance and Sophie would be here, and I know Tim won’t pass up that opportunity before killing Annie.”
Toon had followed Archie’s truck into the motel parking lot. He parked a few spaces away, waiting for the boys to come out. He sat with his chin in his hand, his elbow resting against the steering wheel.
The door to the driver’s side opened, and from the light in the parking lot, Toon took in the driver as the kid in the apartment lot from last night.
Toon dropped his hand, searching out the pistol underneath his waistband.