Nailgun Messiah (Micah Reed Book 1)

by Jim Heskett

  “What’s it to you?”

  Purple Hair narrowed his eyes. “Nederland isn’t that kind of town. We don’t want you here.”

  Micah fought the urge to lash out at the kid. He’d actually agreed with some of what Purple Hair had said, but he couldn’t admit that within possible earshot of Magda.

  She had left the printed screenshot of Lilah’s browser history on the table. So Micah balled it up, shoved it in his pocket, and walked out of the breakroom without a word.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  The building across the street from the hardware store was a strip mall, two stories and eight stores total. One of these appeared to be nondescript, marked only with a simple plaque. On the plaque: a triangle inside a circle. Micah knew exactly what that design meant, and he’d seen it a couple days ago as he was leaving work. The kind of sign that was half happy accident, half the Universe telling him it was time to get his butt in gear.

  After Magda’s refusal to review the evidence he’d printed out for her, he’d slipped into a bad state. He needed an AA meeting to clear his head and quell that growing desire inside to him to take a drink to deal with all this tension. The insidious desire that he could intellectually understand was a lie, yet his body told him would be fine… that he could take one little drink with no harmful repercussions.

  He opened the door marked with the circle and triangle and inside he found a room with a dozen chairs arranged in a lazy oval, then chairs lining the walls around that. Small kitchen off to one side, bathroom opposite that. The layout reminded him of the office he shared with Frank back in Denver but with chairs instead of desks.

  He picked up a meeting schedule from a table of AA literature near the door and scanned for today’s meetings. One started in a half hour, so he found a seat along the wall and tried to collect his thoughts.

  After his failure to get Magda to see the truth about Lilah, there was a good chance Magda would tell her what he’d done. He might come back to the house tonight to find his few possessions tossed out into the snow. Or maybe some kind of reality show tribunal where they gathered in a ritual to vote him out of the house. Like an intervention.

  Micah’s only shot at getting through to Magda was to stay in that house until he could find a way to break Lilah’s hold on her. So what could he do to expose Lilah? Call the cops? Micah hated to involve the police in anything, given his history. Sure, the ID in his wallet was real, provided by the US government, but since dropping out of WitSec, he wouldn’t have their support if something went wrong. If some cop dug too deeply, they might find out who he used to be and who he used to work for.

  Plus, the fact that Eagle was a cop made going to local law enforcement an unrealistic option, anyway. There couldn’t be more than four or five cops total in this town. And if he snuck down to Denver and told police there, it would get back to Nederland PD, for sure.

  Maybe there was something Frank could do from Denver, but Micah didn’t know what that was. Plus, finding time at work to sneak phone calls to Frank was always a tricky matter. Lilah had his cellphone. He wasn’t allowed personal calls from the store phones, and there was always the chance that Hannah or Magda might see him and it could get back to Lilah.

  No, Micah had to puzzle a way through this on his own.

  There had to be some way to reason with Magda. But then again, none of that would matter if she told Lilah what he’d done. And he’d have to wait and discover his fate about that, probably later tonight.

  Some people filtered into the room, mostly older men and a smattering of women. Not your usual collection of Nederland-esque blue collar hippies or counterculture punks, this was the typical broad cross-section of Americans seen at any given AA meeting. Businessmen. Housewives. Nearly-homeless people straight out of detox. And people like Micah, who had no classification.

  Some of them lingered near the front, chatting, and a few came up to Micah and shook his hand. He kept the small talk to a minimum, saying only that he was in town for a short time for work, and only giving as much info as he needed to answer their questions.

  Still, it felt good to be among his people. Recovering alcoholics. They were the only tribe he had these days, since his cartel days were long gone and he’d severed ties with all family except for Magda. And it seemed like there weren’t any ties there to speak of.

  Living in Colorado had been a lonely experience for Micah Reed. When he’d met cute Allison at the grocery store, he sought a real connection with someone, but then she turned out to be a coke runner for that shithead Seth who’d stabbed Micah in the leg with a screwdriver. Once again, Micah’s judgment wasn’t quite inside mature territory.

  He settled in his seat, content to sit through an anonymous meeting where he would feel a brief bit of comfort, and then he could refocus on what to do about Magda.

  But right before the meeting was to begin, a familiar face came through the door. It took Micah a couple moments to recognize him. It was the man he’d seen outside the house last week during Bible study, the same man he’d lost track of when Eagle came back inside with the baseball bat. The prowler.

  The man sat down and nodded at Micah, that kind of friendly greeting head-dip you toss at a stranger when it would seem too weird to raise a hand in a wave.

  Something else was familiar about him.

  Another flash of memory hit Micah. He’d seen this man walking around town with a black shirt and a white collar insert like priests wear. This man must be from the only Catholic church in town. But why had he been sneaking around the house on the night of the Bible study? Was he investigating Lilah or the people at the house, or was he connected with Eagle somehow?

  Lilah had been researching him and his church. It had been all over her browser history. But why?

  Micah eyed him, unsure if he should trust this priest.

  ***

  Micah stood in front of the door to his fake home in the woods outside of Nederland, hand on the doorknob. He had no idea what awaited him on the other side. At least he had a little more serenity after his first AA meeting in over two weeks.

  He huffed a breath and opened the door to find Lilah and Magda sitting on the couch. They both flicked their heads up at him as he stepped over the threshold. Said nothing.

  Panic scissored his chest. Magda must have told Lilah. His impulsive decision to show the computer printouts to Magda was about to bite him in the ass, and he’d be thrown out. He couldn’t hardly be surprised, though, could he? He’d laid it all out and failed. Now came the consequences.

  But, Lilah didn’t actually seem upset. No angry red scowl. She was bright-eyed, smiling, an arm around Magda, like old friends settling in on the couch for a movie night. And Magda didn’t look upset either, although she didn’t raise her eyes to meet his. Magda was holding a mug in her hands, a couple of blobby white marshmallows floating in it.

  On the coffee table in front of them sat a photo album, with pictures placed under clear protectors, a visible layer of grime on the plastic. Old photo album. Micah hadn’t even seen one of those pre-digital photo relics in a decade or more.

  Without a word to him, Lilah and Magda both resumed looking at the pictures as Micah hung up his green vest on a hook by the door. The plastic crinkled as Lilah turned one of the stiff pages.

  He didn’t know if he should say anything. Wasn’t sure if he should push his luck. Had Magda really not said anything to Lilah about the computer printouts?

  “Who is that?” Magda said, pointing at a teenager in one of the pictures.

  “His name was… I don’t remember, actually,” Lilah said. “He lived with us at the old house, but only for a few weeks. Good kid, troubled home, the same sad story you hear over and over again. Cyrus took him in. He stole from us, and I was so mad I couldn’t think straight. I wanted him gone. Cyrus forgave him, though, and didn’t even ask him to leave.”

  “Wow,” Magda said. “But since he’s not here, he did leave, right?”

  “Yes, of co
urse. The situation was too awkward. He couldn’t stay with us anymore after that, because Cyrus was the only person who still trusted him. He’s like that, you know? Always sees the good in people, and he’ll make every sacrifice to help someone else.”

  Lilah flipped over to the next page and pointed again. “That’s the barn we built. Can you believe Cyrus planned out the whole thing himself? All the dimensions, organizing all the materials, with no construction knowledge at all beforehand. He set his mind to it and then, next thing you know, we had a barn in our backyard.”

  “It’s amazing,” Magda said. “I’m so excited for him to come home. Not long now, right?”

  Lilah hesitated a split second, but then smiled. “Yes. Not long at all.”

  “In the spring,” Magda said, “I want to plant a garden. Maybe we can all do it together?”

  Lilah grinned and rubbed Magda’s back. Such a motherly way Lilah was relating to his sister right now. So weird to see.

  Micah realized he was standing there, gawking at them while they weren’t paying any attention to him. If Magda had told Lilah about his invasion of her privacy, he would have expected Lilah to go ballistic. Her not going ballistic would be so far out of the realm of possibility, Magda must not have told her.

  But why wouldn’t Magda tell her, as committed as she was to this cause? This picture-browsing-and-chatting scene playing out in the den made zero sense. Like something on a Hallmark card.

  He didn’t know what to do, and he didn’t want to stand there any longer like an idiot, so he left Magda and Lilah alone, flipping through photo album pages, talking about old times and what a wonderful guy Cyrus was.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  6 DAYS UNTIL

  When Micah had returned home from the AA meeting two days before, he hadn’t discovered his stuff on the front porch or walked in to find Lilah screaming at him to get out. Just the two of them browsing an old photo album, chummy and familial.

  So Magda hadn’t told Lilah about the printouts he’d shown her. That meant at least a part of Magda was still sane. Didn’t it? Part of her was capable of listening to reason, and that was the inkling of hope he needed to keep going.

  On Saturday, Micah asked Rodney if he wanted to go for a hike up the hill, since it hadn’t snowed in days and the sun had melted enough to reveal the trail. Rodney said no, so Micah went on his own, and he spent his time trying to come up with his next plan to persuade Magda. Nothing brilliant had materialized so far.

  How do you talk someone into betraying a belief they apparently hold so dear they’ll ignore hard evidence to the contrary? Micah was no psychologist or cult-deprogrammer. This was new territory.

  As he was trudging back down the trail, cold sweat running down his back and making him shiver, he spotted a foot sticking out from behind a tree on the side of the hill. Was this the priest from before, out here spying on the house again? Micah hadn’t talked to him at the AA meeting, because he hadn’t been sure how to know whether the priest could be trusted, since Lilah had been researching him online. Maybe he was finding recruits for her at the Catholic church.

  But now, Micah wanted to find out what this guy was up to. He hunkered down and crept toward the tree, keeping his footfalls light so he wouldn’t make too much noise. When he came within a couple dozen feet, he could hear a voice.

  But not from the priest, it was Rodney.

  “I think we should revise the plan,” Rodney said. Something about his voice had changed. Rodney usually spoke with a kind of timid, airy sound, but now his tone was deeper and more confident. “There is a tactical advantage to coming in over the hill, from the back.” Rodney paused a few seconds. “Then we’re going to have to factor in the extra time.”

  Tactical advantage?

  Micah was getting close enough that he worried Rodney would hear him at any second. He dropped to a knee, stilled his breathing, and waited for Rodney to say more. How did he even have a cellphone out here? Lilah kept such a tight lease on all communications coming in or going out of the house.

  “Air support is not a good idea,” Rodney said. “They’ll hear you coming from a mile away. Ground only, and a small team is best. I’m thinking six to eight, but in full gear… well, then, we may have to borrow a few guys. You let me worry about that later.”

  Dark fingers of realization tickled Micah’s spine. Before he’d realized what he was doing, a gasp escaped his mouth.

  Rodney flinched and spun around the tree. He slammed a satellite phone into his pocket and crossed his arms, then grinned broadly. A bit of flush reddened his cheeks, but he seemed as calm as ever.

  “Hey, Micah,” he said, and his voice had changed back to that higher-pitched one he used in the house. “Decided to go for that hike after all?”

  Micah got to his feet and stepped within a few feet of Rodney, who didn’t back down, just stood there with that smile on his face. He’d made himself large, like one animal trying to intimidate another.

  “I heard everything,” Micah said. No point in denying it, because Rodney didn’t seem like an idiot.

  Rodney’s shoulders lifted in a slight shrug. He raised his eyebrows while keeping that innocent grin on his face. “There was nothing to hear, so I’m not sure I understand what you’re getting at.”

  “What are you? FBI? DEA? Spook?”

  Rodney’s smile faltered, a barely noticeable flicker at the corners of his mouth. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  A new thought occurred to Micah. What Rodney had been talking about with that person on the other end of the phone was clearly a raid. The government was coming to invade and probably arrest everyone in this house, and that would be catastrophic for Magda. Whatever their goal, there was a good chance she was going to get caught up in the chaos.

  If Magda were invested as much as she appeared to be, she would gladly do time for this stupid cause. She might even fight against the government during the raid, if Lilah commanded her to do it. She could easily take a bullet from some trigger-happy federal gunman.

  “Listen to me, Rodney. I’m not with the religious nuts in this house. I work for an ex-cop in Denver who’s now a bounty hunter and bail bondsman. I’m only here because of Magda, to convince her to leave and come back with me to Denver. Whatever’s going down at this house, I don’t want any part of it, and I don’t care. I only want to get my sister out alive. Do you understand?”

  Rodney uncrossed his arms, let them dangle below his waist. For a second, Micah thought he was going to pull a gun from a concealed ankle holster and shoot him. The air hung still and quiet as neither of them moved, only stared across the few feet of muddy hill between them.

  But Rodney put his hands in his pockets instead of reaching for a gun. He paused, and then shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. Whatever you think is going on out here… you’ve got the wrong idea.”

  “Come on,” Micah said, irritation prickling his skin. “I know you’re with the government. There’s no point in denying it. You don’t know me, but I’ve been through the system before. I’ve dealt with dozens of guys like you.”

  Rodney’s hands, hanging at his sides, balled into fists. Micah steadied his breathing, ready to react if Rodney decided to leap at him.

  “Fine,” Rodney said, now dropping the fake voice. “Not FBI. I’m ATF.”

  “ATF? Why is the ATF here?”

  Rodney shook his head. “It doesn’t concern you. The best thing for you to do would be to pack up your stuff, get in your car, and go back down to Denver. I’m going to give you a pass today, but if you say no, I can’t make any promises.”

  “I’m not leaving. Not without my sister.”

  Rodney chewed on his lower lip. “If that’s the way you want it. If you’re not going to go, then maybe you can help. I’ve been trying to make a case against Lilah Wentworth for years, but she and Eagle are slippery. You can help run interference while I do my job. We need surveillance.”

  “Why can’t you hav
e some kind of ninja espionage team come in here at night and do whatever you need to do?”

  “This has to stay simple and quiet. It’s a small operation. Are you going to help, or are you going to be a problem?”

  Micah frowned. “I’m not going to do anything that will put Magda at risk.”

  Rodney crossed the small distance between them and got up in Micah’s face. “Then you’ll stay out of my way and keep your mouth shut. If you do anything to impede my investigation, I’ll have you brought up on federal charges. And if you tip her off, I’ll do a lot worse than that. Is that clear?”

  The implications of the situation dawned on Micah. When the ATF raided the house, Magda would definitely go to jail, at best, but so would Micah. At least temporarily, until they’d been sorted out. Rodney was right, the smart thing for him to do would be to leave now, or else he ran the risk of having his face plastered on television. Exposure would bring the cartel. Micah still had a price on his head, because not everyone was convinced he was dead.

  But he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave Magda.

  “Absolutely clear,” Micah said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  5 DAYS UNTIL

  Micah stirred as the door to his room opened. His first thought was a wish for a lock on it. No such luck.

  As his eyes adjusted to the light filtering in from the hallway, he found Garrett standing in his doorway. The kid seemed wide-eyed and alert. Maybe Garrett had laid off the pot, at least for now. That would have been the smart move, since Lilah had taken his weed smoking so seriously.

  Micah sat up. “What’s the deal?”

  “Lilah wants everyone in the den in the next five minutes. Sorry. I knocked a few minutes ago, but you were still asleep”