It’s warmed up enough that with the snowplows and the salt, the roads are clear, asphalt unmarred by the winter white. Straight shot from their house, ten minutes to Brooktown and the entrance to the compound.
The church doesn’t have a sign. The driveway bends into the trees, hiding the fixed-up barn where they have services, the social hall, the preschool building, the garage, Earl’s house, the other outbuildings, behind that, paths cut through the woods, a swimming pond, a firing range, a campsite, but nothing you can see from the road. The only thing you can see from the road is the heavy steel gate. Enough room between that and the asphalt for Jessup to pull the van in. David John is already there, leaning on the gate, holding a football. The game ball, Jessup realizes. He’d left it in the truck. David John is not alone. He’s talking to his brother.
Earl saunters over, knocks on the glass. Jessup rolls down the window.
“Keep your mouth shut,” Earl says. “We’ll take care of it.”
“I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Earl’s eyes are like a hawk circling, a mouse scurrying in an open meadow, sharp talons, a missile headed to earth. They’ve got red-tailed hawks, osprey, peregrine falcons, kestrels, goshawks and others in upstate New York, more than a dozen different kinds of raptors. Golden eagles, bald eagles if you’re lucky, turkey vultures. Jessup read somewhere that a peregrine falcon can hit 150 miles an hour as it plummets to the ground, its prey never standing a chance. That’s what Earl looks like. He’s not missing anything.
Earl knocks on the door of the van with his knuckles. Knock, knock. Who’s there? The Big Bad Wolf. Let me in.
Jessup says it again. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Earl knocks again, says, “Exactly. Like I said, we’ll take care of it.” With his other hand, he holds something up for Jessup to see. The keys to Jessup’s pickup truck. Then they are gone, stuffed into Earl’s pocket. Disappeared.
Earl looks at David John. “And what does Hawkins know?”
“Doesn’t know about Jessup hitting Corson with the truck. None of that stuff. Knows about before and after, but not what actually happened.”
Earl nods. “Okay. Let’s keep it that way. But I’m going to need to tell Brandon.”
“What?” Jessup is alarmed. “No.”
Earl gives him a cold, even look. “He’s got money and he can get New York City lawyers involved in this. If he’d been around when your brother and David John had their mix-up, things might have been different.” His cold look turns into something warmer, a laugh. “He’s smart, I’ll give you that. He’ll get us some good Jew lawyers. They’ll do anything if they get paid, and they’re the best money can buy. Now, you two go off and enjoy your day while I figure out how to take care of things.” Teeth, lips curled. “Trust me, Jessup.”