Riven - Jerry B. Jenkins [94]
“I hope so.”
Thomas called Grace, who said she would call Pastor Kessler and several others in the church. “We’ll all be praying.”
Thomas dumped the rest of his stuff on his desk, gathered up his Bible, and headed for the security envelopes that would deliver him to the Deacon’s house.
34
Addison
Glass company workers were removing sheets of plywood from the gaping hole at the front of the Laundromat when Brady’s uncle Carl dropped him off. He offered to stay, even to attend the meeting with Tatlock, but Brady said no. “He’ll understand it was an accident and that I was scared. He’s a good guy.”
But as his uncle pulled away, the all-too-common tingle up his spine overtook Brady and made him want to bolt again. Unfortunately, Tatlock had already seen him. “The back room,” he said. Brady followed him, silently rehearsing the account he’d been inventing for hours.
Tatlock sat across from him, looking more sad and confused than mad. “First I’m going to listen; then you’re going to listen. Go.”
“Well, okay, see, my friend and me came home late from a party and we were horsing around—”
“Who’s your friend?”
“I’d rather not say. He didn’t do anything.”
“Fair enough. Then?”
“We started throwing snowballs at each other, and he hit me with one, so I threw the next one a little harder as he ran past your window.”
“Uh-huh. You guys been drinking? doing drugs?”
“No, sir. I don’t do that. I know better.”
“So, what, he ducks and you chuck the snowball through my window?”
“Exactly. Then I got scared, even though I knew you’d understand. I’m sorry I ran, and I know I owe you, but you know I’m good for it.”
“You have any idea what a plate glass window costs?”
“No, but whatever it is, I’ll pay it. I appreciate you not getting me in trouble.”
Tatlock sat shaking his head and scowling. “I ought to kick your tail.”
“I know. I’d deserve it. But like I say, I appreciate—”
“Just cut the bull, will you? Why do you think you were caught?”
“Sir?”
“There was an eyewitness, Brady. Somebody saw you. Somebody I know and trust. And she says you were alone. No friend. No snowball fight. Just you staring at my place, finding a big chunk of something, and heaving it through my window.”
“Well, I don’t know how she could say that, because—”
“Because it’s true, and you know it. Rumors are you’re not even living at home anymore. You aren’t even seventeen yet, are you?”
“No. But I’m living at home. You can ask—”
“I can ask who? Your mother? Who do you think told me you’re living with the dope pushers?”
“Dope pushers?”
“You smoking, pushing, too?”
“No! I just stay there sometimes because I work there.”
“You don’t work there anymore, son.”
“What? ’Course I do!”
“You missed work and didn’t call in. I went to Alejandro looking for you, and he said if I saw you first, I could tell you to clean out your stuff.”
Brady felt blood rushing up his neck, and his ears and face burned. “Well, I, uh, I still got my shift supervisor job at the burger place. . . .”
Tatlock snorted. “You’re a shift supervisor.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“Should I? Have you ever, ever told me the truth?”
“Well, it’s up to you whether you believe me, but—”
“You got any money on you?”
Brady still had the cash from his bargain sale of the marijuana, but that would cover only Manny and Pepe and leave him nothing.
“No, but I can get some.”
“Where from?”
“Well, even if Alejandro fired me, he owes me. And my check is due at Burger Boy.”
“Empty your pockets.”
“What?”
“You heard me. Do it or I turn you in right now.”
“Okay! I’ve got a little, but I need it.”
“I don’t expect to ever see you again, Brady. This is my last chance to get anything against the cost of this window.”
Brady rose as if to reach in his pocket and lunged toward the door. In a flash, Tatlock was in front of him. “Don’t do this, Brady. I don’t want to have to hurt you, but you’re not getting out of here without paying me.”
Ten minutes later, his pockets empty, Brady stormed into Alejandro’s office and demanded his last check.
“Sit down and be quiet,” Alejandro