SLOWLY, we will find out what Walt did to Martha. I'm writing this as it comes to me, and with limited editing. Please be patient. Thanks.
Walt paid the cab driver, got his backpack out of the seat next to him, and stepped out of the car. he decided that he did not want to take a cab all the way to Vic's mother's house. Tired and disoriented, he looked up at the sky amd noticed a rain cloud.
" Shit," he cussed under his breath as he unfolded a paper street map of Philadelphia.
The wind picked up , rufling the map in Walt's already unsteady hands. Squinting in the low late-theaftenoon light, he tried hard to mtch the street address on the paper to where he found himself at the moment. He needed either Henry or Ferg, as he knew tracking never was his strong suit. Large rain drops bounced off the rimof his hat. Franticly he lookked arund for a pace t sit unti the storm passed.
A few yards ahead of him was a large Gothic Revival Catholic church. Quickening his pace, he made his way to the heavy front doors to the nave, finding them open. Shutting the doors behind him, he heaved a sigh of relief .
When his eyes adjusted , he noticed that a light above the main altar area illuminated the cavernous nave. Setting his wet backpack on the floor, Walt entered the church. The only sounds he hears were the sounds of his wet boots squishing on the marble tiled floor.
A Catholic priest kneeled in front of the altar, appearing to be praying silently. Walt took off his wet hat and awkwardly sat down in the front pew. He hasn't been in a church since Branch's funeral, but suddenly he felt the ned to confess everything.
" Walt, let the priest help you forgive yoursef " Martha's voice whispered in his ear.
He shook his head. As much as he knew that he NEEDED t confess to someone about what happened twenty years ago, he did not know how to begin . He needed a drink.
" You do NOT need a drink, Walt" Drinking got you into these messes in the first place. When the reverend is through praying, just ask to talk with him. I know talking isn't your strength, but do it anyway. "
The priest rose from his kneeling and regarded the Wyoming lawman with curiosity.
"Can I help you, son?" asked the priest.
" I , uh, need to confess something..." Walt replied. His mouth fet like he had swallowed cotton.
" Come this way," the priest instructed . Walt followed t black-clad figure to a small confessional .