Jeremy Cameron lived in a condo/townhouse downtown within walking distance of everything. I parked across the street, paid five dollars for the privilege, and entered the building's lobby, which serviced four units. I knocked on Jeremy’s.
The door opened two inches until the chain caught. A woman regarded me through the gap. From what I could tell, she wore flowery nurse scrubs. Her hair was dyed brown and cut into a short bob.
“Can I help you?”
“You must be the mother of Jeremy Cameron,” I said.
“Gloria. Who’re you?”
“A fan.”
“I’ve had it up to here with fans of Jeremy,” she said.
I opened my wallet and handed her my license.
“I’m a private detective working on behalf of your son,” I said. Not entirely a lie. It held a grain of sterling truth.
“Mackenzie August. He mentioned you.”
“Did he mention my resemblance to Tom Hardy?”
“The actor from Mad Max?” said Gloria.
“Indeed. May I come in?”
“That’s the exact question Father Louis asked me last night, standing where you are.”
“Did he,” I said and my fingers twitched. That guy.
She produced a gun. Looked like a silver Smith & Wesson .38 special. Pointed at my gut. “He did. He tried to force his way in until I showed him this.”
“Please do not, and I can’t stress this enough, pull the trigger by accident.”
“I almost didn’t show him the gun. I wanted him to break the door open so I could kill him.”
“If it makes you feel better, there’s a chance I’ll do it for you.”
She watched me coolly a long moment while I wished more revolvers came with safeties.
“Jeremy said I could trust you,” she said.
“If I give you my gun, maybe you’ll believe him.”
“You’re carrying?”
I was wearing a leather jacket. I pulled it back to reveal the 1911 in my shoulder holster.
“Have you ever used it?” she said.
“I have.”
“Shot anyone?”
“Tons of people.”
She smiled. Closed the door. The chain released and she opened up. To my surprise, after closing the door, she hugged me. Pressed her face into my shoulder. Her right hand, behind my back, still held the pistol.
“Thank you. For caring about my son. I brought him home yesterday evening.”
“How is he?”
“This time next week he’ll be pain free. Until then he’ll rest and drink fluids and not go near an opioid.”
She led me to a set of couches near a television. Jeremy’s place was eclectic and cheap, as a young bachelor’s dwelling ought.
I said, “What did Louis want?”
She said, “To pray for Jeremy. His words. But I’ve been around evil men before. Their eyes turn wild when they don’t get what they want. Father Louis, he’s a selfish son of a bitch, and I hate him.”
“You have good taste.”
She shook her head. “Members of his church came to visit too. This morning. They brought bread and cookies. I didn’t let them in and I threw the baked goods away. I don’t trust a single Christian.”
“We’re not all bad. My guess is, you can trust the cookies.”
She arched an eyebrow. “We?”
I nodded.
“Is Father Louis outside, watching Jeremy’s place?” she said.
“My friend is tailing him. Louis left a coffee shop an hour ago and now he’s at All Saints. But all the same, maybe call me when you need to go out and I’ll accompany you.”
“No need.” She set the pistol onto the table between the couches. “I can handle it.”
“Got a license?”
She nodded. “Scored a 205.”
“A cutie with good aim? There’s so few of us.”
She did not think I was funny. Poor thing, maybe she was deaf. She said, “I’m requesting an emergency protective order to keep Louis away from here.”
“Good idea. I have connections inside various law enforcement offices to help it get through. Plus I know a great attorney. She’ll do all our work pro bono.”
“Is that why you’re here? To help my son?”
“I came to update him and discuss his options.”
Gloria leaned forward until her forehead was resting in her hands and she gripped her hair. “His options. I want him to get the hell out of here.”
I nodded. And I didn’t blame her.
She said, “I never realized how helpless victims of harassment feel. It seems like nobody cares. No one is helping him.” Her voice got louder with anger. “The police don’t care. His friends don’t care. His co-workers don’t… I mean, his boss is trying to break in, to molest him. Jeremy told people, which will cost him his job, and…nothing! Nobody cares.”
“Louis is clever and he has allies. I’ve been working for two weeks on this, maybe a little less, and I can’t pin anything on him beyond reasonable doubt. Not yet. And without proof, who will people believe? The kid? Or the local hero, an established priest? It’s tough.”
She raised up and jabbed a finger at me. “Tell me this, Mackenzie. Is All Saints a cult or what? Everyone from that church strikes me as full of shit. How does this get to happen? I didn’t want Jeremy to go into the ministry. I was raised Catholic, so I’m acutely aware every other week a priest is exposed as a pedophile. That’s one reason I left. Is All Saints no better?”
“I don’t attend All Saints, but it has the same disease all the other churches have.’
“What disease?”
“Humanity,” I said. “Churches would be a lot safer place without us people.”
“Well, All Saints seems more evil than most. The priest, the people, the vestry or whatever you call it, they don’t care about my son. They care about themselves and that’s it,” she said.
“I’m not excusing All Saints. In fact I’m working hard to topple its leader. But all humans are broken. Even the best ones. We build institutions like All Saints to protect ourselves and our comfort zones, and then we serve the institution, not each other. We are protected but others are sacrificed, though we don’t realize it. The vestry isn’t evil; they are human. Sacrificing Jeremy to save the church is an unfortunate necessity in their eyes. It will preserve the church, and that’s not wholly ignoble. It’s cowardly and sanctimonious and ultimately a pyrrhic victory, but it keeps hands clean.”
She was trying not to cry. Glaring at the chair and jutting her chin. But the mother’s tears came anyway. “What do we do?”
“That’s up to Jeremy. It is him who bears the burden.”
“I don’t want him to,” Gloria said. “Those bastards.”
“The only thing necessary for evil to triumph…”
“Jeremy is a good man. But he shouldn’t have to do this.”
“I agree. And he doesn’t have to. He can leave.”
“Shit. I’m tired of crying.” She wiped at her tears like they’d betrayed her. “He did this as a kid, too. Jeremy’s father is…he’s not a man I wanted around my son. Every so often he’d show up, and once Jeremy realized the damage it caused…he stood up to him. Can you imagine, a thirteen-year-old standing up to his father? A man he worshiped and adored and missed? One night, Jeremy’s father was drunk and he came around and he hit Jeremy. Hit his own son. That’s when I got this.” She nodded at the .38. “I’ll kill him. I don’t care if he’s Jeremy’s father. I told him I would and he believed me and he hasn’t come back.”
“There’s another evil man in Jeremy’s life now.”
She choked down a sob. Placed her hand over her mouth and nodded.
“And his mother can’t solve this one,” I said.
“I know.”
“But he was raised well.”
“Thank you.”
“He’s ‘man’ enough to handle this guy. With our support.”
“But why,” she said, crying freely now. “Why Jeremy?”
“Because he was the one hurt. Because he’s innocent. And he’s the only one strong enough to.”
The bedroom door opened. Jeremy shuffled out. His mother tried to stand but Jeremy placed his hand on her shoulder and he lowered next to her.
If anything, he looked worse today.
“You two,” he mumbled between swollen lips. “Talk too loud.”
“You listened?” I said.
“Yes. But say it again.”
“Louis is retiring. He’ll spend the next twelve months training his replacement and going on a national speaking tour to promote his new book. The church is giving him a severance package.”
He made a hmph noise through his nose. “He’s retiring to make the investigation go away. Satisfy the bishop and vestry that justice has been done.”
“It’s bullshit,” said his mother.
“Yes,” I said. “To both.”
“It’s not enough. If nothing else, he needs to be publicly exposed,” said Jeremy.
“At the minimum.”
“Can you do it?”
“I have been fired.”
He smiled and winced. “What took them so long.”
“So you’re no help anymore?” Gloria asked.
“Didn’t say that. I’m obdurate.”
Jeremy blinked. “What’s that mean?”
“It means he’s stubborn,” replied his mother. “What? I read books, I learn words.”
“If Jeremy is still in this, I’m still in this,” I said.
“Let’s bust his ass.”
“And maybe save Alec Ward.”
Gloria got up and came back with water. As Jeremy drank from the straw, or tried his best, she said, “You think that kid is tied up in a van somewhere? Waiting to die?”
“I don’t know exactly. The police don’t either. But coincidences usually turn into something else. I think this is related. If it’s like last time, Alec is still alive.”
“How do you find him?”
“Follow the only lead I have—Louis Lindsey. Pull and poke enough, I usually find answers. Other words, if I apply enough heat to Louis, I might find Alec.”
“His poor mother,” said Gloria. “I bet she hasn’t slept in a week.”