“Oh, I hope not.” Arden burst into tears.
The women comforted her. The discussion stopped while Harry’s mind roared forward, not to good places. For the second time, the first being when she saw the skeleton, Harry felt the chill of fear.
“Father, I appreciate the time you have given me.” Cooper smiled as she spoke, although Father O’Connor knew the police officer was in his office for a reason.
Flummoxed for a moment, the priest queried, “You’re here about the torn check, I assume.”
“With any luck, Father, we might lift a print when the check is reconstructed. I mean, other than Arden’s or Jessica’s.”
“Yes. Yes. We can hope.” His eyebrows knitted together.
“If there is one, our team will find it, but real police work isn’t necessarily like TV. Rarely do we get an instant answer or shall I say person of interest in a case like this. This will take time, and much of it painstaking,” she honestly reported. “Let me ask you, have you ever noticed special friendships between the boys or certain adults and boys?”
He rubbed his temples. “Deputy Cooper, that’s difficult to answer. Naturally, there is affection. Building relationships and providing possible role models is rather the point of Silver Linings. Some boys like some adults better than others. I believe the adults try not to show favoritism. I have never worried. It seems natural to me.”
“I see.”
He paused, choosing his words carefully. “Deputy, you know the Church has been under attack.” He raised his hand, palm outward. “We have to clean house. There is no doubt about the terrible covered-up abuses, but the media seems to enjoy fanning the flames of any story in which we are portrayed in a bad light. Lawsuits have drained the finances of U.S. churches. Worldwide, the Church may be rich, but I would have to say that here in the States we are struggling. Fewer and fewer men enter the priesthood. Rome appears to lack interest in us, preferring areas of the world where fewer questions are asked. However, the hard truth is we need to ask questions.”
“So if you spoke out against a position from Rome that you felt outmoded or unsuited to your flock, would you lose funding?”
“What I would lose is my parish.” He sighed. “Rebellious priests are never in fashion.”
“A few make a great difference.”
“Deputy, I never expected you to be interested in the Church. I’m grateful that you are. And yes, a few priests have made differences, but they are better at public relations. I’m a simple parish priest and I tend to my flock as best I can. If I have a disagreement with dogma, and I’m not saying that I do, I keep it to myself. The time is not right, and it may never be right for me. I don’t know. But I don’t think I will do my people any good if I speak out on such issues. In fact, I think I would cause harm, divisiveness, and confusion.”
“I understand that.” She nodded. “Law enforcement can be rigid and difficult, too. I’m not suggesting it’s the same, only that I understand the conflict between obedience and speaking out for reform.”
“It’s a volatile time, isn’t it?” He sighed.
“Yes, it is. You have lost two of your mainstays, and I am sure that Peter Vavilov and Lou Higham offered generous support to the Church, as well as to Silver Linings. And now there’s the publicity about the missing checks.”
“I could always count on Pete and Lou. They would be so valuable at a time like this. Solid, smart advice.”
“Father O’Connor, did anyone ever come to you and report inappropriate behavior about Pete and Lou?”
“None.” He answered readily, but the question unnerved him. “I would have been shocked. I’m shocked to even think of those two in such a light. They were mainstays.”
“I’m sorry to ask these things, but I must. I have to consider every possibility, no matter how distressful. Did anyone ever complain about Silver Linings; perhaps they felt the boys were engaging in wrongful activities?”
“Yes. Some reports of drinking on the premises, also smoking pot. Brian Hexham looked into it and talked to the boys who had indeed drunk or smoked. And then when Brian gave his lecture on how one’s body changes—sexual desire and responsibility—that drew fire from some of the boys’ parents. I handled that.” He blinked. “It may seem odd to you that a celibate priest can or should speak to such matters, but I think we are bound to do so. We sacrifice our sexuality, if you will, to the Church, to the community. A married man will not put the flock first, he will put his family first, as he should. I am bound to the Church, to Christ. I realize this is a vow few would wish to make and even fewer understand.”
“What happened?”
“Some parents were upset, but the young men were grateful for the information. We forget how tough adolescence is. At that difficult time, you don’t even understand your own body, and there’s so much pressure to conform. To condense what I said, I told the few parents—three mothers and one married couple; most of these boys are from broken families—that if we don’t clearly and honestly address the realities of these boys’ lives, we will have more children out of wedlock, more heartache. Obviously, I believe in abstinence, and just as obviously I know that isn’t going to work for every teenage boy. Everywhere these young people turn, it’s sexual imagery, lyrics in the songs. So while I preach abstinence, I allow Brian to discuss birth control. It’s a bit of a cheat.” He blushed slightly. “But we must protect our boys as well as the girls. And if there’s one thing I emphasize and Silver Linings emphasizes, it’s respect for women.” He threw up his hands. “We’re struggling against the whole culture.”
“Yes, you are,” Cooper agreed. “I’ll give you a break and not ask how you feel about women becoming priests.”
He exhaled. “Thank you.”
“As to the matter of Silver Linings’s finances, the good news is, despite missing three checks, the forensic accountant who works with our office said the books are in order.” She paused, then again said with sympathy, “Father, I regret having to ask you some of these questions, but there is a great deal at stake. For one thing, I don’t want another murder.”
His hand flew to his heart. “Do you think—”
“I strongly believe both men were killed. Very slight evidence, but I’ve learned to trust my gut feelings. You have your calling, Father, and I have mine. It’s one thing to solve a murder, it’s another to prevent one.”
As Cooper spoke to Father O’Connor, Father O’Brien was sitting in the confessional booth. He gave Mass twice a week and offered confession twice a week.
Father O’Brien’s feet were cold. He was wrapped in a heavy shawl and he kept looking at his watch. One more hour.
Someone entered. A woman’s voice, low, said, “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.”
“Go on, my child.”
“I am an accessory to murder.”
Low clouds covered the stars. The sparkling winter sky, obscured, deepened the night, but the cloud cover did keep the temperature a bit warmer. The mercury hung at thirty-one degrees Fahrenheit.
“I hate New Year’s Eve.” At the kitchen table Harry wrapped a gift in silver paper, finishing it with a white ribbon.
“I don’t hate it, but as I’ve gotten older I can’t say that I look forward to it like I did at twenty-five.” Fair sorted through the mail.
“I did that already, honey.”
“I know, but I like to check and see the dates on the bills.”
“Have you noticed that the credit card bills are now due in three weeks, not a month? Everything is compressed, pushed forward. It’s like the entire world is trying to squeeze operating capital out of us.”
He leaned back in the kitchen chair, tidying the bills. “Yep. Some magazines send you renewal notices early or they offer you a deal if you renew early. You know, like a twenty-five percent savings. Then I get confused because I don’t remember when my annual renewal date really is.”
“It’s a racket,” she said. “The date is usually in fine print somewh
ere on the renewal notice. Sometimes I think I’ll just let everything run out.”
“Me, too. Then again, I know in time I’d miss something.” He stood up, walked to the sink, stared out the window. “Did you look at the weather report?”
“No. I’ll pull it up.” She plucked the Droid off the counter, opened it up, touched the weather icon. “Below freezing tonight, cloud cover, cloudy tomorrow and chance of snow on New Year’s Eve.” She looked up. “We really do have to go to that party, don’t we?”
“Fund-raiser,” he flatly stated.
Harry opened her mouth, stopped before she spoke, for a long, high-pitched coyote yowl captured her attention. “God, that’s a mournful sound.”
Fair peered out the window again. “Yes, it is. Sounds like he’s up in the walnut grove.”
“Danger,” Odin called loudly.
The animals listened intently. They’d heard his warning before. Mrs. Murphy finally asked, “Danger to him or to us?”
“Do we have to find out?” Pewter asked.
“If we don’t, it might find us,” Tucker prudently stated.
“Hush your mouth,” Pewter immediately replied.
“I’m going to the hayloft,” the tiger cat announced. “I can see better up there. Maybe Odin will come down and enlighten us.”
Tucker said, “We put out what’s left of the T-bones, plus some cooked rice. Harry threw out half a pot in a Baggie.” The corgi thought this a pretty good haul.
Aroused at the talk of food, Pewter chirped, “I’ll go with you, Murph. It’s not so cold up there in the hayloft, especially if we wait in a hollowed-out hay bale.”
“I’ll come, too,” Tucker said, headed out the kitchen animal door.
The two cats hurried after her, the door flap slapping as they bolted through.
“What’s gotten into them?” Harry wondered.
“You never know.” Fair smiled. “Predators work harder in winter. A lot of wildlife moves around. And that was probably a hungry coyote.”
——
That hungry coyote loped down from the timber, across the back pastures, as the cats watched through the slightly opened upper hayloft doors.
“He’s headed our way,” Pewter called down to Tucker.
“Okay.” Tucker pressed against the huge ground-level doors, listening.
Odin covered a lot of ground at an easy gait, reaching the outside of the barn within minutes of the cats spying him at the back open meadow. He quickly gobbled up the rice, then lay down to chew the delicious steak bones.
Mrs. Murphy looked down at him. “Odin, what’s this talk of danger? Whatever is going on up there?”
He swallowed before answering, “Two humans moved down from the top of the ridge. Their faces were wrapped up. One had a full pullover mask on, with eyeholes and a slit for the mouth. The other had a scarf across her face. I’m sure it was a her. Smelled like a female.”
“How’d the other one smell?” asked Tucker from behind the door.
“The wind shifted; plus, I wasn’t close. One thing’s for sure, I don’t trust either of them. I thought they might have guns and take a shot at me. So I don’t know how the one with the mask smelled.”
“How did they move?” Pewter asked. “Old, young? Damaged?”
Looking up at Pewter, Odin shook himself for a moment. “They moved like two cold humans struggling in the snow. Slipping and sliding, but no one was stooped. I don’t think they were really young, though. And another thing, one had binoculars around her neck.”
“Why did you call out danger?” Mrs. Murphy wondered.
“Because they were watching down here. Not moving. Watching like a predator.”
“And they came down from the ridge?” Tucker wanted to make sure she understood.
“Yes. That’s difficult for humans, impaired as they are,” Odin remarked. “Going down in bad footing is harder than going up. That’s why I called out to you. They want something here.”
The three domesticated animals were silent for a moment, then Pewter called down, “Were they by the uprooted tree?”
“They weren’t far from it. I didn’t follow them back up because I wanted food. But I’d be careful.”
“Did they see you?” Tucker inquired.
Odin laughed. “Of course not. I can be six feet from a human if the cover is good. They haven’t a clue.”
“When the weather is better, do you see a lot of humans on the ridge or walking paths down the side of the mountains?” Pewter asked.
“Not much. Most humans walk on the Appalachian Trail. They don’t wander onto private lands, and we steer clear of them. If hikers see us, you know they’ll call other humans and some of those humans might come to shoot us or trap us. We stay away.” Odin polished off the one bone, picked up the other.
“So these two know the trails and probably not just down to our farm,” Mrs. Murphy said. “Odin, did you see any guns?”
“No, just the binoculars,” he said, crunching another bone in his powerful jaws.
Cletus Thompson awoke early on the last day of the old year. He tended the fire, petted his dog, opened a can of spaghetti that had been in the Christmas basket from the church and ate that. A cup of hot coffee helped warm him up from the inside out. As his stove was gas and he paid the bill, no matter what, he always could make hot coffee. Sometimes he might scrounge up the money by shoveling a driveway or taking on other odd jobs that the convenience store owner allowed him to do. Cletus’s neighbors sometimes helped, but an alcoholic loses friends as trees drop leaves in the fall. Even if the drinker does not cause scenes or turn nasty, the inevitable unreliability destroys friendships. Still, Cletus was always loyal and good to The Terminator, ancient as the creature was. Even if Cletus didn’t eat, his dog did.
Despite the years of alcohol abuse, the former math teacher had a strong constitution. Had he not, he would have been dead long ago.
He felt in his bones more snow was on its way, so he thought he’d dig out his driveway in advance. Whatever came down would still need to be removed, but this would make that future task easier. Coat and gloves on, cap, too, he opened his front door.
“What the—” He walked over to Flo’s car.
She was asleep inside, with her dog, Buster, in her lap.
Rapping on the window, he startled her. She sat up straight, staring up at Cletus doing the tapping. Buster barked.
“Flo, are you all right?”
She rolled down her window. “I was so tired I fell asleep.”
“Come on in the house. It’s warmer than out here, and I have a pot of coffee on the stove. Bring the dog. My fellow sleeps most of the time.”
“Okay.”
“Unlock the door.” He turned his back on her, knowing that would do the trick.
Sure enough, she stepped outside, her dog in her arms, following him into his house. Flo hated to be left behind.
After using the bathroom and brushing her teeth (as she carried a small bag with a toothbrush, toothpaste, and some aspirin in it), she joined her unruffled host in his kitchen.
“Sit down,” he said kindly. “Milk? Sugar?”
“Sugar.”
Two heaping teaspoons dumped into the liquid pleased Flo, who gulped it right down.
“Flo, all I have to eat are some canned goods the church left me. In fact, it was brought over by Harry and Susan, my old students. You remember them?”
“They left me things, too,” she said, wrinkling her nose. The warm coffee felt wonderful. “Your house is warmer than mine.”
“In winter, I mostly sit in the kitchen or by the fireplace. No reason to run up the bill. It’s warm in the kitchen. I don’t need much.” Once he thought she might be relaxed, he got to the point. “What brings you out here?”
“I’ve been avoiding Esther.” She breathed deeply a few times. “I’m afraid of my sister. She wants to kill me.”
“Esther?” Cletus was taking all this in with a grain of salt.
&
nbsp; “She’s not the same person you knew when you all taught together. Oh, Esther was always looking for the main chance, I can tell you that, but she kept on track.”
“Why ever would Esther want to kill you? I would think she’s happy. Married. Enough money to live good in retirement.”
“Ha!” came the derisive response. “She tells people I’m the one with mental problems, but it’s her. She was jealous of the fact that I was more popular than she was when we were kids, and then when she fell in love with Al Toth that took her right round the bend. It was all she could think about, talk about. Esther was always trying to get me to help her attract men, especially Al.”
“Well”—Cletus paused—“I knew, of course, that Esther was wild about him. We all did, but she didn’t run her mouth. Naturally, she would to you, you’re her sister. She got him in the end.”
“I hate her for all that and more,” said Flo. “He didn’t make her happy. It’s not Al. He’s okay. It’s her. She can’t stand that I know who and what she really is. She scared me so much I hid at the Valencia farm and then Deputy Cooper found me. Fair Haristeen was with her, and Harry too. They were the ones who figured out where I was. They thought they were helping. Esther had everyone in an uproar.”
Cletus wanted to say that it was Flo who appeared to have everyone in an uproar, but instead he said, “Did Esther threaten you?”
“She says if I don’t behave she’s going to put me away. A lot, she says it a lot.”
“That’s a mean thing for her to say.” He poured himself another cup of coffee and one for Flo, too. “Look, your little fellow is curled up next to mine.”
“They can keep each other warm.” Flo smiled, a rare event.
“Why did you come here?”
“We always got on, you and me. Sometimes I’d stop by and we’d remember the old days, the days before everything went haywire. I thought you’d hear me out.”
Nine Lives to Die Page 17