The Restoration Project

4.15 - Father Frankie

"When they told me it was you, I thought they had to be mistaken," Frankie said, sitting behind his desk on the balcony. The air horn continued to bleat outside, a long and sonorous drone. It at least drowned out the shouts of the people gathering on the other side of the big wooden doors to the church. His citizens were angry and confused, feeling they had the right to know what was going on. He didn't even know what was going on. He tapped his fingers impatiently on his desk until the siren stopped.

Merrick leaned against the balcony on the other side of Frankie's desk, refusing to sit. The guard that brought him—some guy that Frankie met only a handful of times and had a forgettable name—kept a watchful eye from the doorway at the top of the stairs. Frankie wasn't worried about Merrick; he wouldn't do anything that would jeopardize getting Anita back. That and the way he leaned on the railing was precarious enough that even Frankie could push him over the ledge, if he needed to. Sanchez, standing by the old organ, would deal with any other resistance Merrick may muster.

"How's he not like them?" Merrick asked, poking a thumb first at Sanchez, and then out the window.  The shouts outside grew in intensity as if in response. Pierre's attempts at quelling the masses were going as well as Frankie's ability to walk. It didn't surprise Frankie. He wished he didn't have to send Ludwig away again; he controlled crowds better than Pierre. Probably because Pierre never shut up.

"Could be when we cured him we killed the bots and that's why he's the way he is, could be he's strong enough to ignore whatever the signal is. Don't much care either way so long as he's on my side," Frankie replied. "But we're not here to talk about him."

Merrick smirked. Frankie wanted to slap him. "You're right about that. Tell me where she is."

"Giving up my only leverage over you so quickly would be rather foolish, don't you think?" Frankie asked.

"I thought you'd say something like that," Merrick replied. His lack of worry worried Frankie. "Which is why I have information you might like."

Frankie assessed Merrick. He was unreadable, but Frankie knew he wouldn't visit without a plan. And Frankie wasn't going to fall into his ploy. "If you had information I need, why come with someone else? Why not come alone to take the glory for yourself?"

The Guard that brought Merrick shot an alarming glare at Frankie, as if he was surprised Frankie found out about his little leak in security. Unless it was Marybelle, whoever entered was of no concern to Frankie.

"Insurance," Merrick replied flatly.

"Insurance," Frankie repeated. "Doesn't work so well if you're not with her. Who was it?"

Merrick shrugged. "No idea. Needed someone to make it look like I was captured. Figured it was the only way your guy would bring me to you."

The Guard's eyes widened, worried he may get in trouble or killed for his stupidity. Frankie could demote the man for falling into Merrick's ploy, but if he started that, he would have to demote every guard. He couldn't be blamed.

"Well you guessed right on that. Should I expect trouble from this unexpected visitor?" Frankie asked.

Merrick shrugged again. "Your town. Depends on how you define trouble."

Frankie digested that. He really didn't like Merrick. He was a pompous know-it-all. "So then, what is this information you think I so desperately need to know?"

"I know where Marybelle is."

The words hung in the air of the cavernous church long after Merrick uttered them. To Frankie, even the sounds of the mob outside dissipated. "You're lying."