by Donna Raider
“Really?” he said bitterly. “How does one explain adultery?”
“I love you,” she sobbed into the front of his jacket.
They completed the dance in silence. “I have to get some fresh air,” he growled. “It is stifling in here.”
She followed him into the garden. “Byron, I’m so sorry. I wanted to tell you. I just didn’t know how.”
“How about, ‘Oh! By the way, Byron, you are banging the bishop’s wife,’” he hissed. “Or, ‘Byron, the bishop never made me scream like this.’ Or—”
“Please,” she sobbed loudly, “please stop.”
“Goodbye, Janet.” He gave her one last, longing look then walked away.
She fought the urge to run after him. She found a powder room and began to repair her makeup. She took one last look at her face and decided no one could tell she’d been crying. She unlocked the door. Immediately, the door swung open, pushing her backwards. Byron stepped into the powder room, closed and locked the door.
Roughly, he pushed her against the wall. “I can’t walk away from you,” he sobbed into her hair. “I can never walk away from you.” Feverishly, he pulled her dress up around her waist and pushed down her underwear and panty hose. He kissed her frantically as she unfastened his slacks. She gasped as he entered her and then began to move in the smooth, rhythmic way she loved. Her fist clenched his jacket as she smothered her screams against his chest. “I can’t get enough of you,” he hissed. “I just can’t.” He slammed her hard against the wall as she cried out for more.
She slumped against him as he held her weight in his arms. “I love you, darling,” she whimpered.
“Fix this, Janet,” he growled in her ear
“I will,” she promised.
##
Watcher rolled her cell phone over in his hands. He cleared any evidence of himself from the phone: texts, phone numbers, and voicemails. Even though they had all been placed from the burner phone he had purchased just for use with her, he didn’t want any evidence that she’d received calls from an unknown caller. He’d taken it from her purse as he banged her hard against the wall. He carefully wiped down the phone and then hid it in the powder room so it wouldn’t be found until the maid cleaned.
He drove the rented Lexus back to the rented apartment and slept soundly.
The next morning, he watched as the bishop left for the church then knocked on her door.
“Darling,” she said, pulling him inside, “what are you doing here?”
“I had to see you.” He kissed her desperately.
“You can’t come here. I will meet you at your apartment in an hour.”
He kissed her a long, lingering kiss. “Don’t be late.”
Janet Cantrell walked the few blocks to the church, slipped into the confessional unseen, and slid open the small window. “Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.” For the next thirty minutes she unloaded the burdens of her soul, confessing her affair with Father Clinton and Byron Welch. She left out nothing. Finishing in time to keep her meeting with her lover, she slipped from the confessional and hurried away.
Father Darius bowed his head and prayed.
##
Exactly one hour later, she knocked on Byron’s door. He pulled her inside and held her as if his life depended on it. Slowly, he released her. The hurt in his eyes was unbearable. “Byron, I never meant to hurt you. I just fell in love with you.”
“Divorce him,” he urged. “Divorce him and marry me. We can go away. California, Florida, Italy, anywhere you want.”
“It’s not that easy.” She frowned. “We will figure out a way to be together. I promise.”
He swept her into his arms and carried her to his bed. They made love all day. It was beginning to get dark.
“Let me catch my breath, darling,” she pleaded.
He went to the kitchen and brought back bottled water for them both.
“Where is he now?” Byron asked.
“He will be in meetings until the wee hours of the morning.” She grinned. “He brought back information from the Pope to share with the priests. We have until midnight.”
“That is not nearly long enough.” Byron kissed her lips.
“The easiest thing would be if something happened to Lawrence.” She glanced at him shyly.
“You mean like an accident?” he mumbled. “I could arrange an accident.”
“You’d do that for me?” She kissed him.
“I would do anything for you,” he whispered against her lips, “even murder a bishop.”
“I don’t want to know anything about it,” she hissed. “Just do it!”
“I will take care of everything,” he promised.
“I have to go back to the Hamptons and pick up my cell phone tomorrow, after church.” She leaned back against the headboard. “Want to ride with me? I can come by and pick you up.”
“Of course I do,” he whispered hoarsely as he pushed her down to lie beneath him, “but for now I just want to make love to you.”
She left him at midnight.
##
A knock on his door woke him at nine the next morning.
Looking at her through the eyehole, he thought how beautiful she was.
He opened the door and pulled her inside. He slammed her against the door as he crushed his body against hers, feeling every soft inch of her. “I thought I had to wait until after church to see you.” He grinned.
“I told Lawrence I didn’t feel well.” She nibbled at his lip. “I got to skip church this morning.”
“How long do I have to ravish your body?” he asked.
“We have to get my phone,” she whispered as he carried her to his bed. “But not right now.”
He spread her on his bed and began kissing her, working his way from her ankles to the place where she grabbed his head with both hands and demanded attention. He showed her what he could do with his tongue. She hissed and pleaded for more. He then worked his way up her body, sucking her breasts, her moans driving him to please her more. He muffled her louder cries with his mouth. “You will have the police here to see who is torturing a woman,” he said, chuckling as she cried out.
Much later, he lay still beside her. “I have never known a woman like you,” he said honestly. He had never had sex with a bishop’s wife.
She had raised a questioning eyebrow when he introduced condoms into their lovemaking. He had never used them before. “We have to be careful.” He smiled slightly. “I don’t want to impregnate you until you’re my wife.”
She looked at her watch. “We should be going,” she said.
“One more time,” he pleaded
“My car’s in your parking spot. Where’s yours?”
“Maintenance.” He kissed her roughly. “You can drop me off at that little restaurant while you go to your friend’s house. Then pick me up on your way back.”
“Aren’t you ingenious?” She giggled.
He pushed her back down onto the bed. “Um, and I am not through with you.” He kissed her slowly, as if memorizing the feel of her lips. He kissed his way down her neck to her bountiful breasts and began to suck and fondle her, palming her breasts. He teased her until she was begging for him.
“I will die if you don’t fuck me right now,” she pleaded.
He sank into her, listening to her gasp as he moved in and out of her. He buried his face in her hair. “Remember I told you I was going to do things to you I have never done to any other woman?”
“Yes! Yes! Do it now,” she pleaded.
As her moans rose in pitch and urgency, he slowly placed a pillow over her face and held it. He loved the feel of her bucking hard against him as he rode her, clutching at him. He held the pillow tightly until she stopped fighting it. Until she stopped breathing. He finished making love to her then pulled from her. He ran a small tube down her throat and filled her lungs with water from the area where he planned to sink the car. She had to look as if she had drowned.
He b
urned all the condoms they had used then flushed the remains down the commode. He gathered all her things and placed them in a black sports bag. He slipped on his black gloves and erased any fingerprints he may have left on her things. He placed her car keys in his pocket. He dressed her, then put his arm around her and walked her downstairs as if she were drunk. Fortunately, he encountered no one. He placed her in the passenger seat then drove toward the Hamptons.
Half a mile away from the little restaurant where he had left his car earlier in the day, he pulled off the road. A dirt road, used by young lovers, led to the overlook. He pointed the car so it would hit the water just right to be caught in the current. It would be impossible to tell where it had gone off the road. He placed her in the driver’s seat and fastened her seatbelt. Putting the car in drive, he placed her foot on the foot pedal. He closed the car door, reached through the open window, then pushed hard on her knee, revving the engine. The car shot forward and over the cliff. It landed in the water without hitting the side of the cliff. Good, no marks to indicate it had been there. He then used a limb to smooth out the ground so there would be no tire tracks.
Perfect accidents take a lot of planning, he thought as he walked to his car.
CHAPTER NINE
Detective Carlyle raised an eyebrow when she saw she had a call from Leah. “Hey pretty lady, what can I do for you on a Sunday night?”
“I don’t want to impose on our friendship,” Leah said hesitantly, “but Mika thinks the bishop’s wife may be the victim of foul play.”
“Is she injured or dead?” Carlie cut to the chase.
“We don’t know,” the actress said. “She drove to the Hamptons this afternoon to pick up her cell phone. No one has seen her since. The bishop is out of his mind.”
“Where is the bishop now?” Carlie asked.
“At the church. Mika and I are here too.”
“I’ll be right there.” Carlie slipped her gun into her holster then called her team. “Benson, alert Holly and stay close until you hear from me.”
“I am not certain what time she left our house,” the bishop explained. “She wasn’t feeling good, so she skipped church this morning. We attended a fundraiser at a friend’s Friday night, and she dropped her cell phone in their powder room. She was going to pick it up today. I have spoken with them. She never showed up.”
“What kind of car?” Carlie took notes.
“New Toyota Camry, silver.” The bishop shook his head, holding back tears. “Here’s the license plate number.”
“Do you have a current picture of her?” Carlie tucked the scrap of paper inside her notebook.
“Yes. I took one of her yesterday morning before I left home.” The bishop showed Carlie the cell phone shot of his wife.
“Shoot it to me,” the detective commanded, entering her phone number into the bishop’s phone. “Can you think of anyone who would want to harm your wife?”
“No.” Cantrell shook his head. “Janet was pretty low-key and tended to stay in the background. She was extremely supportive of me and my work in the church. There are a lot of people who resent me being married and being a bishop, but surely they wouldn’t hurt my wife.”
Carlie called Benson. “I just texted you a current photo of Janet Cantrell. She’s the wife of Bishop Lawrence Cantrell. She disappeared earlier today. I also sent you the information on the vehicle she was driving. Very quietly, check to see if the vehicle has been involved in any accidents or found abandoned anywhere.”
“Do you want us to put out a BOLO on the car?” Benson asked.
“No. Let’s keep it low-key. The bishop hasn’t filed a missing persons yet.” Carlie frowned. “He’s hoping she had car trouble or something. I’m driving to the Hamptons. I will let you know what I find.
“Want to ride with me?” Carlie asked Leah.
“No, I will stay here in case Mika needs me.”
Of course you will, Carlie thought. “Can any of you think of anything else I need to know?”
They all shook their heads no.
“Bishop, can you give me a rundown on your activities today?” the detective asked casually.
“I left my house early this morning and came to the church.” Bishop Cantrell frowned. “We had our usual Sunday services then I had meetings all day. We finished around eight this evening. I arrived home around nine. That is when I realized my wife had not returned home. The congregation, Father Darius, Mika, and most of the priests here can vouch for me.”
Mika nodded, confirming the bishop’s alibi.
As she was opening the door to leave, Carlie’s phone rang.
“Save yourself a drive.” Benson’s voice was quiet on the phone. “They just pulled the car from the bay. She’s in it. Looks like she drove off the bridge. Probably an accident.”
“Thanks,” Carlie slipped her phone into her pocket. “I’m afraid I have some bad news.”
The bishop’s knees buckled, and Mika helped him to the sofa in his office. He stared in disbelief. “How? When?” He fell silent as if in a trance.
“It appears to be an accident, sir,” Carlie said gently. “I am so sorry for your loss.”
##
Watcher wandered lazily through the homeless souls under the bridge. He was looking for a particular thing. A barrel with a hot burning fire. Spotting what he needed, he slowly limped up to the fire and dropped his burner phone into it. He continued to limp until he was out of sight of the vagrants.
Returning to his apartment, he carefully removed any evidence that anyone had ever been there. He had rented the apartment through an agency. He had never met anyone involved with the transaction. He had dropped off an envelope of cash to cover six months’ rent and the agent had left the apartment unlocked with the keys inside. He was certain the agent had pocketed the cash. He would wait three months and mail the keys to the agent. He didn’t want any activity linked to the apartment around the time of Janet’s death.
He returned to his own apartment in a neat brownstone in Brooklyn. He shaved his beard and mustache, taking years off his appearance. He dyed his hair to a dark brown color.
Sitting down with a cold beer, he went over his plan step-by-step to make certain he had made no mistakes. Satisfied with himself, he thought, This might be my cleanest murder ever.
No one would contest the bishop’s appointment as archbishop. If nothing else, he would receive pity support for losing his beautiful, faithful wife. Branch and Williams would soon be tried for murder, and he had ascertained the absolute purity of Priest Mika Cross and her wife. Father Darius and Father Halcyon were excellent, devoted priests. His work was done. It was his job to remove the sinners. Like a good white knight, he had triumphed over evil once again.
Then Father Clinton’s handsome face flitted through his mind. He was the one to blame for Janet’s death.
##
It was two in the morning when Leah gently kissed the lips of her sleeping wife. “Darling, time to go to Rome,” she mumbled against her lips.
Mika slid her arms around Leah and pulled her closer. “I really just want to stay here in your arms,” she muttered against her neck.
“Um, if you don’t leave in the next few minutes, you will miss your morning meeting.” Leah laid her cheek against Mika’s chest. “I will be waiting for you at lunch.”
Mika stood and Leah dressed her in her priest attire. Mika pulled her close and kissed her deeply, as if trying to imprint on her brain the feeling of her lips. “I love your lips,” she whispered in her ear. Then she was gone.
##
Mika looked around her room in the Vatican. She wondered why it was taking so long for the Pope to send for her. She had been at the Vatican for almost two months. Every meeting that had been scheduled with the Pope had been canceled at the last minute. The Pope had sent for her. Mika didn’t understand why he hadn’t been able to make time to see her.
Mika decided to visit the Pope’s room in her invisible form.
“
Your Holiness,” Monsignor Yiannis Abusir addressed the Pope, “Mika Cross seems to be out exploring the city again today. As soon as she returns, I’ll bring her to you.”
The Pope frowned at his personal secretary. “I do not know why she is avoiding this meeting with me. I have sent for her repeatedly.”
“I know, Your Holiness. She has been most disrespectful,” Abusir noted. “But what can one expect from a woman with her views? There are some who feel they border on heresy.”
“I happen to agree with most of Priest Cross’s views.” The Pope frowned at his secretary.
“Of course, Your Holiness.” Abusir bowed slightly as if agreeing with the Pope’s statement.
“What time is the luncheon today?” the Pope asked, changing the subject. “Perhaps Mika can join us there.”
“You are scheduled to dine at noon,” Abusir answered. “I’ll see if I can locate Mika Cross in time to join you.”
When Abusir left the room, Mika followed him. She wasn’t certain what was going on but felt that the Pope was being slowly isolated from those outside the Vatican.
Abusir hurried through the halls to the office of the Security Director. Mika followed closely.
“Father Ramone,” Abusir addressed the priest sharply, “the Pope has asked that Priest Mika Cross be instructed to return to America. He has no need to meet with her. Take her into custody and put her on the first plane to America.”
“But the Pope just told me this morning that he has a need to speak with Mika Cross. He asked me to find her.” Father Ramone frowned.
“He has resolved the issue on which he was seeking Cross’s input.” Abusir nodded curtly, then left the room.
Mika pondered the events and wondered how many people were involved in Abusir’s deceit. She followed the secretary through the ancient hallways. Abusir entered a room where a dozen others appeared to be waiting for him. They circled around him. There were cardinals, bishops, archbishops, and one apostolic nuncio (a political envoy selected by the Pope).
“We must rid ourselves of Mika Cross,” Abusir spoke softly. “I fear she has the Pope’s ear on the celibacy issue.”
“I’ve heard Cross even supports birth control, and abortion,” the German Cardinal Antonio Weaslen added.