The Vanishing Gary Brown (booksvooks TXT) 📖

peered around the corner. It was fifty yards to the front steps. He rolled up his pant leg and examined the dressing in the moon’s light. No blood. No visible evidence that he had been hurt. No reason for Fallon to suspect he was the quarry he sought.

Defying the ravaging pain coursing through his leg, Virgil stepped out of the shadows, hobbled as fast as he could, reached the landing, opened the door to Communion Hall, and stepped inside.

“‘Bout time you got here. Prophet was just askin’ where you’d gotten to.”

The booming voice took him by surprise, made him jump. Reisa Stone, his closest friend, stood in the doorway to the dining hall. Shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows and holding a roasting pan, Stone all but absorbed the light attempting to peer out from behind him. He was a mountain of a man, nearly three hundred pounds, with a bodybuilder’s physique and a Hells Angels temperament. Tattoos adorned both arms from his wrists to his neck. His round, wire-rimmed glasses balanced precariously on the bridge of his nose, and a grey beard cascaded to the middle of his generous stomach. Over the years, Virgil had come to know and respect the man under the colorful mosaic and found him to be a dependable friend, an honest man, and a deeply devoted follower of the ways of the Brethren. However, in the dim candlelight of the vestibule, his hands adorned by gaily flowered oven mitts and sporting a pink and blue cotton apron with frilly lace trim, Reisa Stone looked as menacing as a biker at a country bake off.

“Someone’s all dolled up for the prom,” Virgil teased. “Did you remember to shave your legs?”

“Very funny,” Reisa replied uncomfortably. “While you’ve been out for a stroll, the rest of us have been makin’ dinner.”

The aroma of the roast Stone held in his hands reminded Virgil how hungry he was. “Smells good,” Virgil said. He lifted the roaster lid and peeked inside.

“It should,” Reisa replied. “It’s been simmering for the last few hours. What took ya anyway? Fallon’s been runnin’ around here, doing a head count, gettin’ on everybody’s nerves. Damn little weasel.”

“Fallon gets on everyone’s nerves, Reisa,” Virgil replied. “What do you mean, doing a head count?”

“It’s probably nothing. I overheard him talkin’ to Prophet, saying somethin’ about suspectin’ an intruder on the grounds. Said he thought he heard somethin’ out back of the workshop earlier. Whatever it is, it’s got him wound up tighter than the strings on my old Gibson. He’s been walkin’ around puffed up bigger than a rooster in a henhouse, checking everybody out.” Stone shook his head. “Never did like that little guy. Too weaselly for me. Even looks like a little weasel if ya ask me with that long, skinny face and spindly little toothpick body of his. All he’s missin’ is a tail. Like I said, just plain… weaselly.”

“Fallon’s never topped my list of favorite people either,” Virgil replied. “But I wouldn’t worry about it. He’s probably overreacting, as usual. I didn’t see anyone out there.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Reisa shrugged. “Well, don’t just stand there like you’re expectin’ me to set the table for ya too. Sky and Blessing are inside.”

Safe.

Thank God.

“They’ve been waitin’ for ya for the past half-hour, so get a move on. By the way, you hurt your leg or somethin’?”

“No,” Virgil lied. “Why do you say that?”

Reisa gestured to Virgil’s wounded leg. “You got a spot on your jeans, just below your knee. Look’s like ya cut yourself. Anyway, hurry up. While we’re standin’ around here yappin’ my pot roast’s gettin’ cold.”

Virgil looked down, checked his jeans. I shouldn’t have pushed it, he thought. Too much pressure coming up the steps. He touched the spot of blood with his finger.

Warm.

Damp.

Spreading.

“Daddy!” Blessing’s tiny voice trumpeted across the room. She ran to greet her father and nearly collided with Reisa.

“Whoa! Slow down there, little darlin’!” Reisa laughed. He spun sharply to his left, deftly avoiding Blessing’s enthusiastic charge.

“Hi angel,” Virgil said. “How’s my best girl?”

“Fine, Daddy,” Blessing replied. “I was worried about you.”

“You were? Why would such a pretty little girl like you be worried about me?”

“I asked Mommy where you were. She said she didn’t know. How come you’re late?”

“I had a little accident, princess. Nothing important.”

“An accident?” Blessing paused. “Did you wet the bed?”

Virgil tried not to laugh. “No, honey. I just fell. Now I’ve got a boo-boo on my leg.”

“Yuck!” Blessing exclaimed sourly. “I hate boo-boos. Does it hurt?”

“As a matter of fact, it does hurt a little.”

“I’ll go tell Mommy you’re here.”

Across the room, Sky set out the cutlery on the long banquet table. She smiled and waved.

“You do that, angel. Tell Mommy I want to talk to her right away.”

Too late. Blessing was already off and running.

“Quite a girl, isn’t she?”

Virgil turned. Fallon stood behind him.

“Do you always sneak up on people?” Virgil asked.

Fallon’s tone was disingenuous. “Forgive me. I apologize if I startled you. I was just coming from the downstairs storeroom. Thought I’d take a last look around before dinner.”

“Look around?” Virgil said. “For what?”

“Oh, that’s right,” Fallon said. “You weren’t here. I guess you wouldn't know.”

“Wouldn’t know what, Fallon? Stop talking in circles.”

“My, my, my,” Fallon exclaimed. “Aren’t we touchy. You seem nervous, Mr. Lutt. Is something bothering you? Anything you’d care to talk about? Confession is good for the soul, you know.”

“It’s been a long day, Fallon. You should know. You were with me.”

“Yes, I was. Until the last hour.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that within that brief period of time I believe someone has compromised our property.”

“Compromised?”

“Yes, compromised. As in broke in. Trespassed. Accessed without permission.” Fallon paused, assessed Virgil. “Am I speaking in a manner you are having difficulty comprehending? I can slow my speech if you like. Use smaller, less intimidating words.”

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Fallon. I know exactly what you mean. What are you rambling on about?”

“I heard a commotion earlier. When I investigated the