4
Jensen eyed the front entrance of The Light from the rear seat of the Town Car.
"That's the only way in?"
Hutch the hulk was still behind the wheel. Davis, a twitchy sort who'd been watching The Lighfs granite office building since Jensen had called in an alert, sat in the front passenger seat.
"The only way worth mentioning," Davis said. "The side entrance is a steel door. Unless you want to get into some acetylene action, this is it."
Jensen's head throbbed, especially around the scalp cut. They'd never caught up to Grant and Mr. Whoever, so when they got back to the city Jensen called a Dormentalist doctor who did work for the Church on the QT—anything for the cause and all that. The doc had said bring him to his office where he'd see what he could do. One look at Lewis's ass—he'd been shot in the thigh too, but the ass wound was really messy—and he said he needed a hospital. He'd try to admit him as a car accident to avoid a gunshot wound report to the police, but couldn't guarantee he'd be successful.
He'd wanted to stitch up Jensen's scalp but Jensen couldn't spare the time. He let the doc butterfly it closed and then he was on his way.
He leaned over between the seats for another quick look at his forehead in the rearview mirror. The three beveled strips of tape gleamed like white neon against his black skin. Didn't anyone make black butterflies? Or at least dark brown?
Why am I thinking about this shit when everything's poised to slide into the crapper?
He needed a way out and needed it bad. If the Blascoe story got out, he'd have to hit the road. The cops—maybe even the feds—would be grilling everybody in the Church, and sure as shit one of them would crack and start pointing a finger at him as the guy responsible for Blascoe's death. Another murder rap would put him away for good. No way he was going back to the joint. Not even for a minute.
Hutch said, "How about just going up to the door and ringing the bell? Get him to open up and speak to you and then you're in."
Davis shook his head. "At two-thirty in the morning? Wouldn't catch me opening that door for anybody I don't know."
Davis had a point. Then Jensen remembered a couple of props he had left over from an investigation they did into a state assemblyman who was making trouble for the Church a few years back.
"What if you two showed up at the door flashing metal?"
"You mean guns?" Hutch said.
Jesus! How thick was this guy?
"No. I'm talking police detective shields."
"That'll get us in. Yeah, that'll do it."
Jensen lowered his voice. "Thing is, you'll have to take out the guard."
Davis turned in his seat. "Take out… as in permanently? Why?"
"Because we can't risk even the tiniest chance of this leading back to the Church. And you know the rules: Grant has been officially declared IS, and that means anyone protecting her is IS too."
"In Season." Hutch shook his head. "We haven't had one of those in a while."
"Well, any IS you've dealt with in the past is nothing compared to this one. Grant and her pal are the biggest threat the Church has ever faced. A lot's riding on you guys tonight. Question is, are you up for it?"
Right off, Hutch said, "Sure."
Good old Hutch. Not so bright, but he'd do anything for the Church.
Davis hesitated, then finally nodded. "To save the Church, I guess I am."
"No guessing, Davis."
A sigh, then, "Give us the badges and we'll get this over with."
He tapped Hutch on the shoulder. "Get us over to the temple." That was where he kept the badges. "And when we get back, I want Grant in one piece. The guard goes, but I need to talk to Grant."
Did he ever. Because one way or another she was going to tell him all about her boyfriend.