Carl dropped his hand, slipped the gun into his work coat pocket, and stepped back as Edward stretched a hand toward the man who had just thrown a goddamned monkey wrench into his plans. What, did he have a great big neon sign nailed to his back that said ‘Kick me when I’m down’? What the hell was he supposed to do now? Play it cool, Carl my man. Just play it cool. Play it cool he would. He’d watch the preacher, make sure the prick didn’t try anything stupid. One wrong move and it’d be adios, baby. No more Sunday sermons, no more screwing other men’s wives.
“Richard. What, ah, what brings you back here?” Edward and Richard shook hands.
“I thought I’d come back and see how you were making out getting home. It’s bad out there, and that Impala you’ve got is not going to make it through the snow. It’s already blowing and drifting out there, and we should get going as soon as possible.”
Richard looked to Carl, obviously not immediately recognizing him. Figures. Fucking church people. To hell with the pagans. We’ll just keep to ourselves, take their money, screw their wives, and give ‘em the heave-ho in the end. Carl put a hand on his coat pocket, feeling the reassuring bulge (the proverbial ace up his sleeve) that gave him power and would ensure that this time the pagan would not get the heave-ho.
“Carl,” Edward said, finally turning his attention back to him, “this is Richard LeLand, one of our distinguished board members. Richard,” Edward turned to Richard, “this is Carl. Carl Sanderson. Jessica Sanderson’s—”
“Yes,” Richard interrupted and extended his hand. “Yes. Hello Mr. Sanderson.”
At least the guy had the common decency to refer to him as Mister. Carl would give the guy that much.
“Is there anything I can do? Anyway I can assist here?” Richard looked out the window at the storm. “I gather you two were discussing the personal matter that concerns both of you, and I don’t want to, in any way, seem insensitive to that, but there’s a bad storm out there”—he stuck his thumb over his shoulder—“and we do need to get going, Edward, if we have any hope of making it home before the roads become impassable.”
Personal matter. Not affair, or adultery, or fornication—isn’t that the correct church word to use?—or fucking thy neighbor’s wife. Personal matter. Like they were discussing a misunderstanding or carrying out a financial transaction. Personal matter. Oh, yeah, it’s personal all right. It’s about to get even more personal with you, Mr. Fucking Distinguished Board Member. You may get a chance to see just how personal I can get if you don’t turn around, walk out that door, and haul ass pretty goddamned soon.
And Carl would do it, too. He’d do anything to save his marriage. He had always considered himself lucky to have snagged a find like Jessica and he sure as hell wasn’t about to let anyone, especially this holier-than-thou preacher, steal her from him. Carl had done everything in his power to get Jessica’s attention before they’d started dating, to convince her to go out with him, to get up the courage to ask her to marry him, and to treat her right and proper as his wife. And he would do anything and everything to keep Jessica from leaving him, no matter what it cost Carl or anyone else.
He was prepared to show the good pastor exactly what he knew about the preacher’s past, along with anyone else who wanted to know what skeletons were in the pastor’s closet. Carl patted his other coat pocket and smiled. The other ace up his sleeve. Which, now that he thought about it, he might as well pull out now. All the better to have Mr. Distinguished Board Member here to witness justice carried out in an appropriate manner.
Carl slipped his hand into the pocket and pulled out a folded manila envelope. He held the envelope out to Edward.
Edward made no move to take it. “What’s that?”
“It’s part of the deal I mentioned earlier. You know.” Carl glanced at Richard then nodded at Edward to take the envelope.
Edward looked to Richard, then to Carl, before taking it.
Carl kept one hand at his side, the other inside his coat pocket. He watched Edward open the envelope and pull out a sheaf of papers. He watched as Edward flipped through the copies of newspaper articles and police reports. He smiled when Edward wiped a hand across his forehead.
Edward slowly raised his head toward Carl. “You son of a bitch.”
Richard’s head snapped toward Edward. “Edward!”
Clutching the papers and envelope in one hand, gripping his cane with the other, Edward advanced on Carl. “You’ll never get away with trying to blackmail me, you bastard.”
Richard stepped in front of Edward. “Gentlemen, let’s calm down. Ed, what’s this all about?”
Edward dropped the papers and envelope. He leaned on his cane, lowered his shoulder, and shoved Richard to the side. He raised his cane and swung it at Carl’s head.
Carl stepped back and ducked. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the gun. He aimed it at Edward. Richard threw himself at Carl. Carl fired the gun twice.
The sound reverberated in the church foyer.
Three men fell to the floor.