“Okay,” Bubba said with a satisfied nod. He patted John’s cheeks and climbed off him. Then he stepped over to Manny and tossed some vodka in his face.

Manny woke coughing, bucking at the ropes, spitting at the vodka on his lips.

The first thing he said was “What?”

“Hi, Manny.”

Manny looked up at Bubba and for a moment he tried to look fearless, used to this. But Bubba smiled, and Manny sighed, then looked at the ground.

“Manny!” Bubba said. “Glad you could join us. Here’s the deal, Manny. John’s going to tell Patrick and Angie what they want to know. If I think he’s lying, or if you interrupt, I’m going to set you on fire.”

“Me?” Manny said.

“You.”

“Why not him? I mean, if he’s the one who’s lying?”

“Because there’s more of you to burn, Manny.”

Manny bit his upper lip and tears welled in the pockets of his eyes. “Tell them the truth, John.”

“Fuck off, Manny.”

“Tell them!”

“I’ll tell them!” John screamed. “But not because of you. ‘Why not burn him?’” he mimicked. “Some friend. If we get out of this, I’m telling everyone you wept like an old woman.”

“I did not.”

“Did too.”

“John,” Angie said, “who screwed with Patrick’s bank account and credit cards?”

He looked at the floor. “I did.”

“How?” I said.

“I work for the IRS,” he said.

“So you’ll fix it?” Angie said.

“Well,” he said, “actually it’s a lot easier to wreck than it is to fix.”

“John,” I said. “Look at me.”

He did.

“Fix it.”

“I—”

“By tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? I can’t do that. It’d take—”

I stood over him. “John, you can make my credit disappear, and that’s a very scary thing. But I can make you disappear, and that’s a little more scary, wouldn’t you say?”

He swallowed and his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat for a moment.

“Tomorrow, John. Morning.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Okay.”

“You make other people’s credit disappear?” I asked.

“I—”

“Answer him,” Bubba said, looking down at his shoes.

“Yes.”

“People who try to leave the Church of Truth and Revelation?” Angie said.

Manny said, “Hey, wait a minute.”

Bubba said, “Who’s got a match?”

“I’ll shut up,” Manny said. “I’ll shut up.”

“We know all about Grief Release and the Church,” Angie said. “One of the ways you deal with naughty members is to screw with their finances. Correct?”

“Sometimes,” John said, his lower lip protruding like a kid caught looking up the girls’ dresses in school.

I said, “You have people working in all the good companies, don’t you, John—the IRS, police department, banks, the media, where else?”

His shrug was constricted by the ropes. “You name it.”

“Nice,” I said.

He snorted. “I don’t see anyone complaining when Catholics work for those same organizations. Or Jews.”