Will made an exasperated sound against his teeth, but Bederman just smiled at her. "Okay. Okay." He nodded a few times thoughtfully. "If you'd never met TD – if TD and The Program didn't even exist -and you could do exactly what you wanted to do with your life, what would that be?"
Chewing her lip, she thought for a few minutes, shifting in her chair so she sat nearly sideways on her hip. Tears welled in her eyes, and then she said in a cracked whisper, "I don't think I want to answer that right now."
Will said, "We're all here for you to answer -"
"We invited her. She came at our invitation, as much to ask us questions as to answer ours." Bederman's voice stayed soft, but it had taken on an edge. Will's testiness might have met its match.
Leah's eyes had gone cold. "You don't know anything about TD. He knows what works for people. You're just too weak to want to see it."
In the corner Reggie's head snapped up. He'd been so silent, Tim had almost forgotten about him. "I thought that, too," Reggie said. "I really did."
Leah twisted in her chair to stare at him. Her mouth moved, but no words came out.
Reggie leaned back, compressing his shoulders as if trying to melt into the wall. "That's right – I'm the one lucky bastard who made it out. So I'll put it to you: If you were the enlightened one, would you act how he does? Break people down? Take their money? Have virgins rouse him in the morning with hand jobs?"
Emma sagged back in her chair. Will tensed. "Is that true? While we were desperately looking for you, you were off at a ranch jerking off some false messiah?" Emma moaned, and Will laid a protective hand on her shoulder. Leah looked away. "Jesus," he continued, "did you even think about how worried we -"
"No, I didn't think about you. Either of you. I thought about myself and what I wanted for once." Leah looked squarely at her mother. "I don't have to take on your weaknesses."
"Take on our weaknesses?" Will was apoplectic. "You sound like a machine. What you're doing up there, Leah, has got nothing to do with being strong. It's laziness. You're too lazy to face the real world."
"Hey, Pops," Reggie said, "when's the last time you hauled your ass up at six and worked a twenty-hour day?"
"You evidently know very little about film production. I've done it plenty. And it's a bit more stressful than watching the fish tank at a roadside fuckshack. What goes on at that 'ranch' is not work. It's immaturity."
"Don't attack him," Leah said.
Bederman started to object as well, but Emma cut him off, all gentle reason and apologetic eyes. "You've always had poor judgment, Leah."
Leah blew out a shaky breath. "It's just like he warned me."
Will's face was twisted with disgust. "What does that mean? What did the Teacher tell you?"
Leah bent her slender neck, studying the carpet. "That you'd insult me and my practices. That you'd rant, not listen."
Will sputtered for a moment before finding words. "You leave us no choice. You spout recorded nonsense that can't be listened to. There's no reasoning with you."
"Well, how about you, Will? You have your head in a bottle half the day and the other half it's up Colin Farrell's agent's ass – is that living in the real world like a mature person?" Leah turned to Emma, who was drawn back in her chair, hand clasped to the silk scarf knotted at her throat. "And you're gonna teach me about judgment? St. Ursula has nothing on you in the martyr department. People don't even exist to you – they're just walking potentials for inconvenience."
Will withdrew a cell phone from his pocket and punched one button at length. His sweaty face was trembling. "I'm not going to sit here and be judged. It wasn't easy being your parent. You can pick at us all you want, but you're the one who made a foolish, dangerous decision. What you're doing is stupid, Leah. Everyone in this room knows I'm right. We just have to pretend to indulge you so -"
"Don't you dare presume to state my position," Bederman said.
Tim rose toward the door, eyes on Will, the cell phone in his lap. "What was that?"
The knob jiggled, and Rooch and Doug shouldered in. Tim swept Leah behind him. Bederman and Will were yelling at each other. Emma leaked tears, kneading her slender white forearm against her belly with a freckled hand. Shoving himself back into the corner, Reggie bent his arms over his head like a kid in a duck-and-cover drill.
"Enough of this nonsense, Leah," Will said. "The car's waiting."
Leah clung to Tim's back. "You swore. You swore you wouldn't let them."
Dray arrived, winded from the brief sprint across the parking lot, but Rooch put an arm across the doorway, blocking her entry. Doug tugged up his shirt like a dealer punk, showing off the handle of the big-dick. 44 Magnum at his waist – no respect for the weapon. Neither Tim nor Dray was armed.
"Hey, now," Will said nervously. He raised a placating hand to Doug. "Hey, now."
Bederman backed away until he bumped against a wall. Through his shirt Tim felt the heat of Leah's face pressed to his shoulder blade.
"Will," Emma said in a hoarse, outraged whisper. "We never -"
"You don't want to do this," Tim said. "You're committing an armed kidnapping and assaulting a sheriff's deputy and a federal officer."
"You're not a federal officer," Will said, "since last night." He gestured at Doug to lower his shirt and looked at his daughter. "We're trying to do what's best for you. We're trying to protect you."
"You'll go down for this," Dray said.
"You call your contacts, Mrs. Rackley, I'll call mine." Will turned back to Leah. "We're not wasting any more time. You've made your point. We can work it out at home. Let's go."
Leah stayed put.
Reggie stood up. "Look at me. Look at me." Will finally acknowledged him. Reggie knocked his chest with his fingers. "You want her to end up watching the fish tank at a roadside fuckshack? Just keep it up."
Will's tough facade wavered. "We can't have her go back to that place." He pivoted back to Doug. "Take her, and let's go."
Doug worked his gum nervously. Though, like Rooch, he outweighed Tim by at least fifty pounds, he was no longer exuding confidence.
"Let me make something clear," Tim said. "If you make so much as a move toward her, I'll break your arm."
Rooch held his ground at the door. Doug pulled the revolver from his waistband, keeping it angled limply at the carpet.
Emma let out a strangled little gasp.
"Doug," Will said. "No need to -"
Tim's voice remained calm, his hands spread slightly before his chest, ready. "Never draw a weapon unless you're prepared to use it."
Doug's wide jaw bounced as he clicked his teeth. "What makes you think -"
Tim darted across the tight circle of chairs. The edge of his right hand struck the top of the rising barrel, fingers curling near the base of the hammer and locking the cylinder. He twisted down and away, his other hand striking Doug's hyperextended elbow, which broke with a single sharp pop.
Doug yowled, his torso diving to the floor. Tim stepped over the distorted arm before Doug hit carpet, straining the now-limp limb at the socket, the grotesque bend of the forearm permitting Tim to aim the double-clutched revolver directly at Rooch's head.
Doug's shoulder, smashed across his face, muffled his groans.
Rooch's forehead had compressed into a mass of wrinkles.
"Release," Tim said.
Doug writhed on the carpet. "I…can't."
Tim eased the arm back a few degrees, and the fingers popped open on their own. He snapped the gun wheel free and thumbed it into a spin, letting the bullets drop one by one into his palm. He pocketed the empty gun and said, without removing his eyes from Rooch's, "Dray, come on in."
Rooch moved out of her way, and she stepped through the door and over Doug's body.
"Leah, you're going to step back and sit on the bed now," Tim said. "Go on."