Page 61 of Lula Dean's Little Library of Banned Book
Delvin hadn’t expected to be invited inside. He didn’t dare glance over his shoulder at the Jeep, but he sure hoped Jeb was watching.
At some point in the past, it had been a very nice house. Now it resembled the den of a dying beast. The wood floors were hidden beneath mud, filthy clothes, and random detritus. The walls were riddled with bullet holes and the light fixtures had all been shot out.
“Sorry ’bout the mess,” Logan said. He walked through the mess in his bare feet.
“I’ve seen worse,” Delvin told him. A kid he’d known in the army had lost it one night and destroyed the barracks. No one had tried to stop him. No one wanted to. Most had felt the same urge at one time or another. That’s why they locked the soldiers’ guns away every night.
He and Logan reached a room with a desk in the center and ammunition cases lining the walls. Aside from a few guns, the cases had been emptied. Several large army-issue duffel bags had been stuffed to capacity. There was little doubt what was packed inside them.
A hand-drawn map of Jackson Square had been pinned to the wall behind the desk. Symbols indicated an entry point, targets, and an exit. On the desk was a copy ofTheCatcher in the Rye.
“You read that?” Delvin asked as Logan grabbed an empty box off the floor.
“Naw,” Logan told him. “I got it out of Lula Dean’s library. Had a different cover on it. Was supposed to be the book by that senator—Manhood. What about you? You readThe Catcher in the Rye? It’s supposed to be famous, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Delvin said. “You might like it. The hero’s a young man who’s lost in life. A lot of us feel that way at one point or another. Most of us end up finding our way.”
“I’m not a big reader.” Logan spread out the SS flag before folding it into a square.
“More of a history buff, I guess?” Delvin asked. “Were the flags part of a collection?”
“Not really,” Logan said. “I bought them to make a friend happy, but he says he’s done with me, so I’m sending them to him.”
There was no emotion in Logan’s voice. Not a quiver or a hint of anger. Delvin knew what men looked like when they’ve been broken. Just do what you’re here to do, Delvin ordered himself. Give Jeb enough time to get the cameras in place. Do not get involved.
“Is the friend Nathan Dugan?”Why the fuck had he gone and done that?
Logan looked up.
“He’s not the man you think he is,” Delvin told him. “He’s a coward who can’t feel big unless others feel small. Someone like that doesn’t deserve your respect.”
“I know,” Logan said bluntly. “Nobody does.”
“Nobody?”
“People are never who they pretend to be. Everybody thought my daddy was righteous. Judge Walsh issucha good man, they’d say. Such a friend of law and order. We’resolucky to have him on the bench. They never saw who he really was.”
“Who was he?”
“A pig,” Logan said. “A filthy disgusting pig who deserved what he got.” His voice cracked and Delvin knew he’d broken through. He couldn’t tell whether that was a good thing or not.
“I can sense you’ve been through some serious shit,” Delvin said. “You need someone to talk to.”
“I had someone,” Logan said. “He told me I’m a loser. I pulled a gun at the rally and let Mitch Sweeney get away. Now he says he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. Says my father was right and I’m totally useless.”
“Nathan Dugan is not the person you should be consulting. Maybe we could find you someone who is trained to talk to people in crisis.”
Logan looked like he was having trouble making sense of it all. “Why would you want to help me?”
“Because I knew guys like you in the army. They saw too much and they needed help before they hurt themselves or others.”
Before he could stop them, his eyes landed on the map of Jackson Square. His host noticed, and it broke the spell. Logan picked the gun up off the desk.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Postman. I believe you mean well, but I can’t let you leave now.”
“Logan.” Delvin tried to keep his voice flat and calm. “I have children who need me.”
“They’ll survive without a father,” Logan said. “I did.”
