Laura said that she would love to interview Hawk and me together sometime. She had a theory about poetry and violence that she wanted to try out on us.

We had some brandy.

Hawk looked at his watch. "Time to go," he said. "I gotta bookie I gotta threaten early tomorrow."

We all smiled. And got up. And went.

CHAPTER 15.

I met Sherry Spellman at the International Food Fair at the Liberty Tree Shopper's Mall in Danvers. Owens brought her and four deacons came with him. I didn't recognize any of the deacons. Fresh troops. The food fair was a semi-circle of fast-food shops around a seating area full of tables. Owens and the deacons sat at a table near the Philly Mignon shop and Sherry joined me near Paco's Tacos.

She was pale blond and somewhat sunburned. Her hair was short and she wore no makeup. She sat down opposite me, folded her hands quietly on the table before her, and waited.

I said, "Would you care for coffee, or something to eat?"

She shook her head. Her glance drifted over to her churchmates, and then back to me.

I said, "You know who I am?"

She nodded.

I said, "How are you?"

"Fine."

She had a small voice.

"Are you happy?"

"I'm at peace," she said.

Again her glance drifted to the deacons and back.

I said, "Look at me. See how big I am?" I opened my coat. "See the gun?" I took my license out and showed it to her. "See, I am a licensed private cop." She looked at me and nodded. "Now, if you want to leave with me, you can. Owens and the deacons can't stop us. And if you leave with me, I'll protect you as long as you need it."

She nodded.

I said, "Would you like to leave with me?"

She shook her head.

"Tommy Banks says you were kidnapped," I said.

"No," she said. It was the firmest sound she'd made. "No, I wasn't."

"No one tied you up and took you away?"

"No."

"You joined the church on your own?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Too much ha.s.sle," she said. "I had to get away.''

"Who was ha.s.sling you?"

She shrugged and shook her head. "Everyone."

"Tommy?"

She nodded. "Who else?" She shrugged. "Dancing was too hard."

"What was the hardest part?" I said.

"Tommy."

"A slave driver?"

"He . . . it was just that he wanted me to care about it more than I did. Him too."

"What did you want?"

"To be by myself To see what I am."

"You need the church for that?"

"Yes."

I leaned back a little in my chair. She glanced over at Owens and the deacons. Good name for a country rock group. Now with their number one single it's Owens and the Deacons. Yeah! Now with their number one single it's Owens and the Deacons. Yeah!

I shook my head slightly. Concentration wasn't what it should be. Sherry certainly didn't seem frightened. She didn't seem happy either, but her glances at the deacons were more the way a child looks to a parent than anything else.

"Tommy wants you back," I said.

"No." Very firm. Almost animated. "No."

"What's the best part of being where you are?" I said.

"I don't have to worry."

"About what?"

"About anything. Everything is simple and . . . and I don't have to think about things all the time."

"Do you love Tommy?"

"I guess so, I'm not sure. But I can't be with him."

"Too much pressure?"

"Yes."

"Pressure to dance?"

"Pressure about everything."

"Maybe you should move to San Francisco," I said.

"Huh?"

"Private humor," I said. "You don't seem happy."

She shrugged.

"On the other hand, I wasn't hired to make you happy. I was hired to find you and rescue you. But you don't seem to need to be rescued."

She shifted in her chair. She looked at Owens and the deacons. Her hands still rested, folded, on the table before her.

"Where are you living?"

"Will you tell Tommy?"

"No."

"Salisbury."

"In the branch church on Route One?" She nodded.

"Between the roadhouse and the salvage yard?"

She nodded again.

Owens and the deacons sat silently watching us across the room. All five men had their arms folded. Uniformity.

"I might come visit you now and then, Sherry. Not to ha.s.sle you. Just to visit. See if you need anything."

She nodded.

"You won't mind?" I said.

"No."

"Okay. You may as well rejoin your party." We stood. Sherry walked quickly back to Owens and the deacons. I went too.

"She says she wants to stay," I said to Owens. "I believe her."

"I should hope so," Owens said. The deacons all sat poised, like I might kick one of them at any moment.

"I told her I'd come visit occasionally. She said that was all right."

Owens didn't say anything.

"If I come to visit and don't find her, I'll start looking again. And I'll be really mad." I couldn't watch all four deacons at the same time. The one I was watching didn't blanch.

Owens said, "Let's go," and they got up and left. Owens and the Deacons. Actually Sherry and the Deacons sounded even better than Owens and the Deacons. I went out to the parking lot to find my car.

Sherry and the Deacons. Do-wop!

CHAPTER 16.

I sat with Tommy Banks on the only two chairs in his studio, in a corner, near a window that looked out onto Huntington Avenue, in case anyone wanted to. We sipped coffee from paper cups. On the other side of the studio the dance company took a break. I had already begun to realize that dancers almost always moved and made little step motions even as they rested. It was as if they were always hearing music, always carving shapes in s.p.a.ce.

"She says she wants to stay where she is, Tommy," I said.

"Of course she does, they've brainwashed her."

"No. I don't think so. She says she wasn't kidnapped, and that she's free to leave." Banks's hands were clasped in front of him, forearms on the knees. His knuckles were white.

"They've made her say that. They took her and brainwashed her. I was there, they came and took her and tied and gagged her and dragged her away in the trunk of their car."

Across the room a complex short rattle sounded as someone did a tap step, someone laughed. I kept watching Banks.

"Do you know where she is?" he said.

"Yes."

"We've got to get her out of there. I'll go with you, we'll rescue her."

"Tommy, I don't think she's a prisoner. She has a right to stay there if she wants to be there."