“Not to mention impossible,” Frank said.
“You couldn’t contact your mother?” Reverend Powell asked, turning to Frank. “Sort of in the guise of a reunion type thing?”
Frank shook his head. “No way.”
“Why not?” Vince asked.
Frank turned to him. “You think I can crack her? Forget it. If what Mike’s found out is true, she and Tom are so high up in the organization they’d be impenetrable.”
Mike nodded, brow furrowed in concentration. “There’s also the possibility that making Frank’s presence known would make them aware of us.”
“Fuckin’ A,” Frank said.
Reverend Powell glowered at Frank.
“Still,” Mike said, rubbing his jaw, thinking. “It might work.” He turned to Frank. “You haven’t been in contact with your mother and Tom for almost eighteen years now, right?”
“Yeah, and I ain’t calling her sorry ass now,” Frank said, his voice rising with a hint of annoyance. “So you can forget it.”
Reverend Hank Powell’s features had softened, becoming concerned. He looked at Frank pensively, as if he were a doctor treating a patient. “What is it you’re afraid of?”
“I’m not afraid of anything,” Frank said quickly. Vince could tell that Frank was afraid of something just by the way he responded so fast. “It’s just that I don’t think contacting my mother is going to help. She’s going to wonder why I would want to see her after eighteen years. She’ll be suspicious.”
“That might be true,” Mike said, nodding. “But then again, you said yourself that the last she knew of you, you were a drug addict. You’re clean now, and that will come as a surprise. That could provide reason for your wanting to contact her.”
“Forget it!” Frank said, hissing the sentence through gritted teeth.
Reverend Powell was watching Frank with a different look; compassion. “Are you afraid of physical violence? Of some kind of physical harm coming to you?”
Frank fidgeted. “No. I… I don’t know. It’s just…”
“You’re afraid of their power,” Reverend Powell said softly. “You’re afraid of the power they have over you. You think it’s a psychological power, and I’m not going to debate that now. But you are afraid of something malignant happening to you, something that you can’t see or feel, correct?”
Hesitating for a moment, Frank nodded.
“Frank,” Reverend Powell leaned forward, staring directly into Frank’s eyes. “Do you really believe these people have supernatural powers?”
Frank looked like he was going to bounce off the walls. He cast nervous glances at Vince and Mike, and then turned to Hank. “I don’t know,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “All I know is that… their power scares me. I’ve seen what they can do. And I’m… I’m just scared of it happening to my family.”
Hank regarded Frank solemnly. “Are you afraid they will… somehow find out what you’re up to?”
Frank nodded. “Yes.”
“And how will they find out?”
“I don’t know!” Frank yelled, now animated with worry and fear. He rose from his chair and began pacing the den. “I don’t know how they’ll find out, but they will, I just know it! I can feel it. It’s like… an instinct, my inner voice telling me that the minute I show myself they’ll be able to look into me and see my motivations. Then that will lead them to you, to my wife and kids! Christ!” He ran a hand through his long black hair, visibly shaken.
Reverend Powell remained calm. “Perhaps that’s exactly what you need,” he said.
“Whatever,” Frank said, heading to the bar. He retrieved a Coke. The others remained seated around the table, waiting for something to be said. Vince felt nervous, like everything that was happening, the bad vibes, the mixed emotions, were his entire fault.
Vince thought Reverend Powell would have sought this opportunity to proselytize to Frank but he didn’t. Instead, the preacher said, “Perhaps we should plan another method of attack. Have you thought about talking to the Pennsylvania State Police to see if they’ve discovered any new information on Maggie’s death?”
“That’s a strong possibility,” Mike said. “But that would have to be something Vince will have to do.”
“I can do it tomorrow,” Vince said.
“We can analyze whatever they tell us then,” Reverend Powell said. “If no new information is forthcoming, I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“I wouldn’t either,” Mike said. “Any clues they would have left would point at somebody else. Or nowhere at all.”
“What about the attempt on your own life?” Reverend Powell asked Vince. “Have you heard anything more from the detectives investigating?”
“Nope.” Vince shook his head. “That’s something I can follow up on as well.”
“What kind of research will it take to connect the attempt on Vince’s life to this cult, The Children of the Night?” Hank asked Mike.
Mike sighed. “I really don’t know. It will be almost impossible until we hear what kind of leads the police in Irvine find.”
Reverend Powell remained silent for a moment, as if deep in thought. Frank Black remained at the bar, sipping his Coke.
“I still think a contact with Gladys Black is our best bet,” Reverend Powell said. “At least from the secular level of our investigation.”
“I’m not contacting that bitch,” Frank muttered.
“I’m no longer considering using you for that option,” Reverend Powell said without turning around.
“I’ve got an idea,” Vince said.
Mike and Hank turned to him. Vince could feel Frank’s eyes light upon him too. “We could… or I could… get in touch with her somehow. I could go on the notion that… I’m contacting mom’s old friends and family to… tell them mom is now deceased.” He looked at Mike for some kind of approval.
“It might work,” Mike said, turning to Frank who remained silent behind the bar. “But it would have to be done with a phone call. We don’t have the time to communicate by mail.”
“How are we going to get her phone number?”
“I’ve got it,” Mike said.
“You want to contact her so fucking much,” Frank muttered from the bar, “you guys contact her. Leave me out of it.”
“And what will you do, Frank?” Reverend Powell turned toward the imposing figure who, despite his physical appearance, looked like he was scared to death. “If we contact your mother—if Vince does, rather—what will you do?”
“I could ask you the same question?” Frank shot back, defiant.
“I’ll be praying for guidance and strength for all of us,” Reverend Powell replied. “The Lord hasn’t failed us yet and I don’t believe He will. And God forgive me for this hint of self-righteousness, but I believe we need somebody who is a Christian in this battle. Because, my friends, while you see this battle as a secular one, I see it as a spiritual one first and foremost. And while I join you in the physical aspects of this case with as much vigor as you, I have the spiritual background to arm ourselves against the forces of darkness.” He cast his gaze across each of them, turning to Frank who met his gaze with equal determination. “I can sense your fear. And I can sympathize. We are dealing with the forces of darkness, there is no doubt about that. Our enemy is great, both in spiritual prowess but in physical strength as well. They have their agents of destruction, their assassins, and they have the uncanny ability to work like the mafia.”
Frank huffed. “You can say that again!”