The Cin Fin-Lathen Mysteries 1-3

by Alexie Aaron

  "She has this idea in her head that I’m trying to seduce, or already have seduced, her nephew."

  "Did you?"

  "Harry O'Rourke! I’m going to pretend I didn't hear that come out of your mouth!" I sat down on the edge of the bed and glared at him.

  "So, he must have given her the idea because I think she’s a smart woman and wouldn't make it up."

  "Why would he do something like that? He's a priest, a Jesuit priest, Harry. They take their vows and the breaking of them very seriously." I blew air out of my nose. Most people sigh, I snort. "He has a big..."

  "No. Don't tell me!" Harry's hands shot over his ears.

  I had to laugh. He looked so vulnerable standing there, willing me not to say anything sexual that would embarrass both of us. "Why are you laughing?" He tentatively released one ear.

  "Ego, he has a big ego. Honestly, your head's in the gutter."

  "Where did you meet this guy?"

  "On the plane going over to see Noelle, but I think that he may have arranged to sit next to me. Now where does a priest get the flight information? He knew I was going to Bathgate just after I knew I was going. He’s a hell of a fighter. As weak as he was, Harry, this guy gave that psycho a run for his money. Let me see, he rock climbs. How many priests rock climb?"

  "Seems like you’ve thought a lot about Father Michael."

  "I just don't like being lied to. I feel that something about him isn't kosher."

  "Cute, kosher and priest. Cute." Harry got up. "If you need some shoes, then we’ll have to go shopping, I suppose. That is, if I can't find that bag." He left my room and crossed through to his before exiting into the hall. In his own way he was trying to protect my reputation by not having him leave by way of my room.

  Chapter Five

  As I set my personal items on the counter of our shared bath I noticed that Harry had more hair products than I did. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and questioned whether I had let myself go a bit. My curly auburn hair was as unmanageable as ever, and with the exception of a faint silver scar line across my throat, my skin was in remarkable condition. There were some faint laugh lines at the corners of my brown eyes that were probably the precursor of things to come. I'm glad I never smoked, as my full lips were unlined. Most women go through a daily inventory of age lines. I prefer a yearly one. That way you can pat yourself on the back, taking credit for your genetics, run to the cosmetic counter, or contemplate plastic surgery. The hidden truth was that I had had some surgery, following my return to the states. It was to realign my broken nose, thanks to the late Michael Sherborn and to minimize the carving his lover Ivana did to my face. Their deaths not only scarred my outsides but did a great job on my psyche as well.

  "Not bad for an old broad," Harry's voice scared another few lines onto my face.

  "Don't you ever knock?"

  "You're in my bathroom." He smiled.

  "Our bathroom,” I corrected. “What are you so happy about?"

  Harry lifted up the missing bag of shoes. I couldn't believe it. Could it be our luck was turning around? "Where?"

  "It was overlooked in the trunk of the limo. The driver hadn't left yet so I was able to rescue them."

  I accepted the bag graciously and only winced when Harry told me to move my ass as we were late for the confabs. I paired up some tennis shoes, which looked much better with my jeans than what I had on. Time for action, and I was dressed for it.

  ~

  Diane was sitting in a large floral chair with her feet up and holding a drink in her hand when we entered the drawing room.

  "I always have a drink to unwind after a flight. We don't worry about whether it is cocktail time or not here in Savannah. Betty would be happy to serve you something."

  "No thank you. I’m anxious to begin. Harry?" Hoping he would follow my lead, I gave him the choice.

  "Maybe some water?" Harry smiled in the direction of what I mistook as a room screen but was actually my fan Betty, dressed in a Chinese print pantsuit.

  "Now that we’re here in Savannah, what do you hope to find?" Diane asked, slipping deeper into a soft Georgia accent.

  "I hope that by going through Father Michael's things we may find some missing pieces. Such as: who is he working for, why they sent him to Florida, anything that would give us an idea where to start looking once Harry and I get back there."

  "Betty will give you the keys to the garage flat. I only ask that if you are removing something that you let me know what you have taken so I can account it to Michael when he returns."

  "Fair enough, can I ask you a rather delicate question?"

  "Sure, should I send Betty away?"

  "No. The answer may benefit both Betty and I."

  "Now, I’m intrigued." Diane sat up and motioned for another drink.

  "Since I’ve never contemplated seducing your nephew, nor have I felt any attraction for him, how did I get saddled with this scarlet letter?"

  Diane lifted an eyebrow. "He kept calling your name when he was unconscious at the hospital. He risked his life as you did yours for each other. He is rather fond of you. He spent hours telling me things about you. He likes you. Dangerous liking a married woman, especially when you're a priest."

  "I’m divorced.”

  “We Catholics don’t believe in divorce.”

  I wanted to shout bullshit at her but said instead, “Couldn't all this be attributed to us being friends?"

  "It would be unusual but possible, I guess." Diane accepted the freshened drink from Betty. Betty turned around and drilled me into the couch with her eyes.

  "Is it possible enough for some of the religious artifacts being removed from my room?" I asked meekly.

  Diane looked at Betty, and Betty spoke up, "Oh Ms. Fin-Lathen, that has nothing to do with your relationship with Father Michael. I’m so sorry you misunderstood.”

  "Betty, why then?" Diane asked curiously.

  "It is because you's a pagan!" With that said, she held an enormous crucifix before her.

  "Betty! Control yourself. Who has slandered our guest?"

  "It was the Father. He wrote it in his diary."

  "What else? No wait, don't tell me. Betty, Diane, I assure you that I am not a pagan. I may know some pagans, but I’m not a practicing pagan. I’m a Lutheran, but not a practicing one."

  Betty seemed relieved but still kept her distance. Maybe non-practicing Lutherans fell in with pagans as undesirables?

  "Betty, you said you read his diary?"

  "Yes. It was laying out, and I was dustin and..."

  "I get the picture. Is the diary still here?"

  She nodded. "Over in the flat."

  "For the record, Father Michael and I are friends and tend to annoy each other one way or another. Sort of like my friend Harry here, whom I think of as my son. He isn't my boy but pushes all the buttons like he’s my boy. Now, I would like to have the keys. The sooner we begin, the sooner we can have Father Michael back, and the sooner I can kill him myself." I got up and held my hand out for the keys. Betty produced them from her pocket and dropped them into my hand being very careful not to touch my skin. I had a bad feeling that the crosses would remain in my room.

  Harry got up and followed me out of the room. He didn't say a word until we were outside. "Did it."

  "Did what?"

  "I thought if I was extra quiet they would forget I was there and not offer me any of those confabs."

  I nodded my head in agreement. "See what good things can happen when you're quiet?" I took the lead and headed over to the garage and up the steps on the side. "I’m going to find that diary, and I assure you it isn't going back until I’ve read it page by page."

  "Cin, sometimes it isn't a good thing to eavesdrop."

  "I'll be reading not listening, besides we’re detectives, right?" I found the right key and opened the door.

  "You know what I mean. Hey, neat place." Harry whistled as he stepped in.

  The garage flat was tidy and fu
rnished very expensively. It was reminiscent of Ethan Allen on steroids. Everything was bulkier as if it was going to hold a very large person. The colors were muted, but the polished wood gave this room a life of its own. We stood in a combined living room/kitchen with a small office cut into an alcove. The office was equipped with a computer, fax, scanner and a Palm Pilot station. It seemed a bit excessive for a priest, but after all, he was a researcher. The computer was logged off and the desk was clear, no diary here. I started to open the drawers when Harry's startled voice summoned me to a room in the rear.

  "Is this you?" Harry held up the copy of the front page of a British tabloid. There was the picture that a sneaky photographer snapped of me while I was hugging a young violin impresario in London.

  "Yes, that's me. You never saw that?"

  "Nope, must have missed it. Look at all this other stuff," Harry indicated a pile of pictures, newspapers and other papers stacked haphazardly on a bedside table.

  I thought it was out of character if the outer room was an indication of Michael's habits. The disorder of the bedroom made it look as if someone else lived here or maybe it had been searched? I looked around and didn't find the offending diary. "Harry, could you ask Betty to come over here?"

  "Sure, take advantage of my young legs." He smiled and took off at a trot.

  I took the opportunity of Harry being gone to look through Michael's more personal items. It looked like he had packed as some of the hangers hung empty in the closet but his drawers were a mess as if someone riffled through the contents. I was walking into the bathroom when I heard Harry return with a panting Betty.

  "Betty, I’m sorry to bother you, but is this how Michael, er, Father Michael left his room?" I stepped aside and let her enter.

  "Oh no, Missus, it was neat as a pin just yesterday."

  "Betty, please call me Cin, that's C I N." I pointed to the stack of periodicals that included my cover. "Where are those normally kept?"

  "The Father,” she hesitated before asking, “Can I talk plainly?"

  I nodded.

  "He’s Mikey to me. Mikey kept all his papers on the top shelf of the closet. In a box." Betty was rummaging around in the closet. "Here it is." She pulled out an unremarkable cardboard box. "I don't know what has been going on in here."

  "Looks to me, someone started to search this room. Since it’s been only since yesterday, I suppose that alibis Diane. I don't see his diary anywhere."

  "Did you look in the hidey-hole?" Betty walked over to the bed and tapped the wainscoted wall behind the headboard. She pushed a panel in and slid it to the side. "The diary's here as always." She reached in and handed me a small brown leather book.

  "You must be a thorough duster," I said dryly.

  Betty started laughing. "You must think me a horrible snoop. I've been spying on the members of this household for near on forty years as my mother did before me. You see these Williams need managing or they will run amuck. That one in there," Betty tilted her head towards the house, "She should have had children of her own, but no, she transferred all that love on to Mikey. She was interfering in his life long before his Daddy passed on."

  "Is there anything else in there?" I asked, trying to look around her.

  She turned and gathered some things in her arms. She looked over her shoulder at me a moment as if to judge whether or not I should see “everything” and smiled and pulled one last item out. She walked over to the low chest of drawers and started to empty the contents of her arms on to it. "He has some army men, old Pooh bear and his bag of marbles."

  "May I? I picked up the army men and looked at each one. "Harry, look at these. Notice anything different about them?"

  Harry took each one and fingered it, turning it over, trying to read the plastic imprint. "They’re just cheap plastic men."

  "I thought so. Four army guys, Pooh bear and a bag of marbles." I opened the bag and poured the contents into my hand. One steely, two boulders, thirteen cat's eyes and four diamonds!"

  Harry looked over my shoulder and whistled. "Are they real?"

  "I don't know."

  "Let me see." Betty's large fingers delicately picked one up. "Lordie-lord-lord-lord." She held it up to the light. "It's not a crystal, them's cut different. Pretty large for a diamond though. If they's real, what's our boy doing with them?" She carefully put it back in my hand.

  I rolled the diamonds along with the marbles back into the pouch. I grabbed the stuffed bear and squeezed him all over and determined that sometimes a bear is just a bear. I would have to use this against my friend for keeping his Pooh bear when I next saw him. I hoped it would be soon.

  "I think I don't have to mention that we better keep this to ourselves," I said, looking at Betty and Harry. "He could be keeping them for someone. There are a lot of confidences between priests and their parishioners. This may be one of them."

  "The army men have been altered," Harry piped up.

  "What?"

  "Normal, green plastic army men don't have the detail these do. I know because Alex and I used to go to the dollar store, buy them, take them outside and melt them with magnifying glasses. Anyway, see the tiny crosses on the lapels?"

  I picked one up and couldn't see anything. I felt around in my pocket until I came up with my tiny reading glasses. I put them on but still couldn't see what he was talking about. "I sure could use one of those magnifying glasses about now."

  Betty's eyes lit up, and she smiled and walked into the other room. I heard a desk drawer open and a "here it is." She came back with an antique magnifying glass. She handed it to me, and I studied the little green man.

  Have you ever looked at one of those plastic men up close? Don't feel bad, as this was my first time too. The expression on the face was a shade short of evil. I looked at the uniform, and sure enough, there was a cross melted into the lapel. I picked up each man, and they had the same alteration. I looked up. "They all have crosses on their uniforms?"

  "Oh, oh, they're not infantry. They’re chaplains!" Harry burst out. "Four chaplains, four diamonds. It's got to mean something. What's in the diary?" He grabbed for the diary, but I didn't want it in his hands until I proofread it.

  "Betty, you read the diary before. Do you remember anything that would have to do with the diamonds?"

  "No. It’s just full of observations and gossipy things."

  "Okay, I think what we need to do here is… I will sit and read this diary, starting with the last couple of entries. Harry, you try to log onto his computer. Betty, please look around and see if anything else is out of place or missing."

  "What are we going to do with the rocks?" Harry asked me.

  "I don't know yet. I imagine they’re the cause for the search. Do we put them back where we found them, since they didn't find the hidey-hole?"

  "They didn't find it yet," Harry pointed out.

  "We could put them in the safe in the house," Betty said seriously. "We wouldn't have to tell Diane."

  "You’ve the combination, I suppose."

  She nodded.

  "I don't want to bring any harm to Diane by bringing these things in. Let's think on this awhile." I waited until Harry and Betty were busy with their tasks before opening the diary. What I saw on the first page shocked me.

  It was dedicated to me.

  Chapter Six

  I’m vain enough to imagine that someday someone would dedicate something to me, a park bench after I’ve left this earth or maybe a song on the radio while my hearing aid batteries still worked. But never in my wildest imagination - which is very wild I assure you - would I have foreseen a dedication in a diary that was entombed in a wall of a southern mansion. That is too freaky for this redhead.

  To Cin Fin-Lathen who can't keep her nose out of other people's business. 03/09/04

  Now that hurt. It was true, but coming from Father Michael it was hard to take. So, I was meant to find this and read it. I started reading, but it didn't make any sense. Although, I could see why Betty
had a problem with me.

  I realize now I wasn’t to understand before that. Pagan witch, have attention, my heart breaks at your indifference. Please act quickly to cherish me and to move me. No humble page six in a coven of thirty or more am I.

  Below this was the Lord's Prayer, the Nicene Creed and various texts admonishing witchcraft. Either Michael was in the cups or maybe it was in code. Great, did he think I was Lord Peter Wimsey for cripesakes?

  "Harry, could you come here a minute?" I called into the outer room.

  "Sure, what's up? Any dirty parts?" He stood, mocking me with his eyes.

  "Read this and tell me what you think."

  "K." Harry picked up the diary and looked at it and looked back at me. "Date's wrong."

  "Wha..." I took the diary and sure enough 03/09/04, March ninth 2004 was well before we met. "Why would he dedicate a diary to me and start on a day that happened years before he met me?"

  "Fooled you. You didn't see it." I thought Harry was looking a bit too smug for my injured ego. "It's not a date at all. It is a key."

  "To what?"

  "They don't grow them smart where you come from, do they? I would say look at every third, ninth and back to the fourth word of each sentence. Wait I saw a pencil in the desk." Harry bounded out of the room and came back with the pencil. He fussed over the book and lifted his eyebrows. "Clever, very clever."

  "What, let me see." I grabbed the book from him. He had crossed through the words that didn't fit the code.

  I realize now I wasn’t to understand before that. Pagan witch, have attention, my heart breaks at your indifference. Please act quickly to cherish me and to move me. No humble page six in a coven of thirty or more am I.

  "Now that I have your attention quickly move to page thirty-six,” Harry and I said together. I loosened my grasp to turn the page, and Harry whipped it out of my hands.