“William knew of your father’s filth. Your father told him one day…blurted it out with pride. Then William told me, planted evil in my heart—”

“I know, Mom. It was his fault. Give me the gun.”

To Decker, she said, “That’s the monster you should be arresting. Not us, him!”

Decker nodded. William Waterson—the man who had been hanging around the house, painting himself as a family friend, and mysteriously visiting bikers with big checks drawn from Dolly’s account. A quick call to Farrell and his computer had verified that plus a few other interesting things.

Just how much was Waterson involved in this mess? Did he orchestrate the whole thing?

Decker regarded Dolly intensely. Her eyes were rolling and unfocused, her mouth slightly agape, tiny rills of drool amassing at the corners. Her body held a slight twitch. Unnatural. As if on strong, strong medication. Too zonked out to plan something like murder on her own.

She must have had help. Once she had been a user. Maybe Waterson had known about the addiction. Prodding her along, keeping her dazed and confused, because the lawyer had had a vested interest in keeping Dolly’s checkbook open for consumption.

The woman wept. “Oh my cursed life. And all I ever wanted to be was a good wife.”

She squeezed Bram’s hands with both of hers, the hard gun between them pressing deep into her fleshy palms. Decker took a step toward them.

“William sowed evil in my soul, Abram,” she continued. “He used the anger in my heart for his own wretched purposes. He enticed me to do evil…like Eve did unto Adam. He swore sweet words of God and everlasting love. William is a vile, vile man. Abram, I swear I never meant for anyone to die—”

“Mom,” Bram said quietly, “if you love me…if you want me to help you, please, please, give me the gun.”

“Don’t leave me, Abram.”

“Never.”

“Don’t ever go back to Rome.”

“It’s not even a consideration,” Bram spoke soothingly. “I’ll stay here and be with you. We’ll work things out. But first you have to give me the gun.”

Decker crept closer, looked over his shoulder. Oliver gave him the thumbs-up sign. Backup had arrived.

Dolly said, “You won’t go back to Rome? You’ll be here with me?”

Bram said, “For as long as you need me.”

“Forever?”

“Yes, forever and ever,” Bram whispered. “Let go of the gun, Mom. Just loosen your grip…”

Decker saw the priest’s slender fingers working their way into his mother’s hold on the gun, prying her hand from the grip.

“That’s a good girl,” Bram encouraged. “Just relax your hand.”