Chapter Fifteen
Timothy rolled down the back window on the Monte Carlo, getting some of the snow off. The window was becoming frozen shut. Timothy pulled hard at the inside handle. The window gave, bringing in a blast of cold air. He looked around for a moment, realizing the snow had stopped.
He had heard cars parking and doors slamming several times over the last hour, people coming in groups.
Pastor Matt’s flock has grown, Timothy thought.
He was still waiting for the service to end, for them all to come spilling out. He would have to wait another few hours.
The police escort, consisting of two off-duty officers sent by Captain Schultz and the FBI, flanked Lance and Sophie Hawkins as they departed from the downtown Holiday Inn.
Lance, a white-haired version of his handsome son, and Sophie, thick silver hair in an upsweep, wearing a red wool coat, feet covered in leather boots, looked like the wealthy couple they were, the Marine cops noticing Sophie’s jewelry. No woman in Marine wore such diamonds on her ears or fingers. However, the woman had a friendly, easy way about her, her husband more reserved, watchful.
Ben Garcia drove in his car behind them. While the FBI was heading for David Warren’s house on the other side of town, Garcia was babysitting the pastor and his parents, who just happened to lead The Church of Mankind, a cult worth a billion dollars.
They were driving slow, the clumpy snow providing little traction against the ice underneath. Taking twenty minutes to get through the few blocks to the church, the police-escorted car finally eased into a parking space just steps away. Garcia had to park farther back, the other spaces taken.
Timothy poked his head up for a moment. Both cars were plain. He took in the couple exiting the car, Sophie standing under the street light in her red coat. Timothy pulled his head down, his heart starting to beat hard. He grabbed his rifle, the scope going into the hole. He aimed on Sophie then replaced the scope with the barrel. He pulled the trigger on the Bushmaster and heard a scream followed by a male voice.
“The blue car!”
Timothy dropped the rifle and crawled into the front seat. He was parallel-parked between the two other cars, his vehicle covered in snow and ice. However, he tore out of the parking space, banging into the car in front of him. He rolled down the window on his side, getting a glimpse of an older man running towards his car, slipping on the ice. A few shots hit his car, but he kept going, although all he could see was white through his windshield.