by Sandra Brown
"I'm anxious to hear all about Jenny's House."
Father Gregory cleared his throat and inched forward on his seat "The
concept came to me ..."
Burke tuned out as Gregory launched into a flowery speech about a
homeless children's refuge that didn't exist. While pretending to hinge
on every word coming from Father Gregory's mouth, he watched Remy
Duvall's face. She listened intently, responding as anticipated to the
buzz words Burke had told Gregory to incorporate. Her questions were
insightful and intelligent. When Gregory retold the fictitious story of
little Jenny, tears came to her eyes "It's so tragic."
Because her sadness seemed sincere, it would be easy to start feeling
badly about this gross manipulation of her emotions. But then Burke
reminded himself of how cozy she'd been with Bardo in the gazebo.
Any woman who would willingly consort with Bardo didn't deserve
compassion.
He set his cup and saucer on the table at his elbow and abruptly stood
up."Pardon me for interrupting, Father Gregory, but I need to be
excused."
Gregory swiveled his head around so fast his neck popped. He looked at
Burke with bald panic. They hadn't rehearsed this part.
It wasn't in the script. Burke had omitted it intentionally because he
hadn't wanted to increase Gregory's anxiety. Since he seemed to be
comfortable in his role-playing, Burke felt he could safely leave
Gregory alone with Mrs. Duvall for a few minutes, which was all he
needed "There's a powder room behind the stairs in the entry," she told
him.
"Thank you."
"Would you like Errol to show you?"
"No, thanks. I'll find it."
He strolled out of the solarium, but once he'd cleared the doorway, he
pulled up short and looked for the bodyguard. He wasn't just outside the
room as he'd said he would be. Instead, Burke found him in an adjacent
den, watching television. His back was to the door.
Apparently he didn't consider Father Gregory and Father Kevin much of a
threat.
Burke went into the powder room and closed the door, but only for a
moment. Coming out, he took the stairs two at a time, wincing whenever
one of the treads creaked.
The first door past the landing opened into another small bathroom.
Three seconds max, and he was out.
How many servants were in the house? He had no way of knowing, but a
safe guess was several. At any moment, he might bump into a militant
housekeeper demanding to know what the holy hell the holy father was
doing snooping around Mr. Duvall's house. She would raise a ruckus,
which would summon Errol, who would restrain him until Pinkie arrived.
By this time tomorrow, his body would be a buffet for carnivorous fish
grazing on the bottom of the Gulf.
He opened the second door along the hallway and found what he was
looking for a grand bedroom with separate baths on either side and a
wide balcony overlooking the front lawn.
Burke knew nothing about antiques, but each piece of furniture in the
room looked like the genuine article. Drug money would go a long way at
highbrow auctions. One of the pieces, a cheval glass in the corner that
stood at least twelve feet tall, reflected a man wearing unnecessary
eyeglasses and the trappings of a priest."You're way over the edge on
this one, Basile," he muttered.
He peered into what was obviously Pinkie's dressing room, but the maid
had been there since the master of the house left that morning
Everything was in order. Nothing was lying out.
In the bedroom, the nightstands were easily distinguishable.
Pinkie slept on her left side. On his nightstand were a pair of reading
glasses a copy of Newsweek, and a cordless telephone. Burke checked it
for a number, but the plastic sleeve that held the label provided by the
telephone company was empty. Probably an ultraprivate, unlisted number.
He opened the drawer, hoping to discover a personal telephone directory,
a journal, a bankbook. But Pinkie was too smart to have anything in his
nightstand drawer except a bottle of Maalox, a leaky ballpoint pen,
another pair of glasses, and a notepad on which nothing was written.
On Mrs. Duvall's nightstand was a rosary, a bowl of potpourri, and a
crystal carafe of water with the small, inverted glass capping it.
In the drawer, nothing except a box of note cards. But there was no
address book. Whom did she write to?
How long had he been out of the solarium? Suspiciously long to be taking
a leak? What if, during a commercial, Errol poked his head into the
solarium and, seeing only one priest, asked where the other one was?
Get on with it.
He crossed into Mrs. Duvall's dressing room. The maid hadn't been here,
not since Mrs. Duvall had dressed for her meeting with Father Gregory
and Father Kevin. A blouse was lying across the satin vanity stool.
Apparently it had been considered, but discarded in favor of the one she
was wearing. Burke picked it up, rubbed the fabric between his fingers.
Silk. He replaced it across the stool, exactly as it had been.
Noticing the seam in the mirrored wall above the countertop, he
depressed it, and a section of mirror swung out, revealing a medicine
cabinet. Toothbrush and toothpaste, Visine, Stresstabs, Q-Tips, tampons,
aspirin, oral contraceptives. No other prescriptions.
He closed the cabinet and was about to turn away when he noticed that
the marble surface of her dressing table was lightly dusted with talcum.
The body powder was stored in a round crystal box topped with an ornate
silver lid. Beside it was a luxurious lamb's-wool powder puff, which he
picked up and sniffed. The fragrance was unmistakably familiar.
He brushed his fingertips across the fuzzy surface of the powder puff,
conjuring up tantalizing speculations as to the exotic spots it had last
visited.
What the fuck are you doing, Basile? Get the hell out of here.
He returned the puff to its place beside the crystal box and left the
dressing room as though the devil were at his heels. At the bedroom door
he paused to listen. Hearing nothing, he eased open the door and stepped
into the hallway.
He was midway down the stairs when Errol appeared in the entry.
Errol, apparently on his way to use the bathroom, stopped dead in his
tracks when he saw Father Kevin loping down the stairs. Burke smiled
disarmingly."If you're going to the can, you might need this."
He tossed the bodyguard a roll of toilet tissue.
Errol, still confused, fumbled it before catching it against his chest.
"The powder room was out of paper, so I had to use the one at the top of
the stairs."
Errol pushed open the door to the powder room and looked at the toilet
tissue spool, from which Burke had removed the roll before going
upstairs. He had carried it right back down again, but it appeared that
he'd brought it from the other bathroom."I thought, long as I was up
there, I'd replace the roll down here. Never know when someone might
need it." He grinned, man to man."Of course, it depend
s on what you have
to do." "Yeah," Errol said with uncertainty."Thanks."
Burke started off in the direction of the solarium before he came back
around, as though an idea had just occurred to him."Say, if Mr. and Mrs.
Duvall become involved in Jenny's House, maybe you'd like to
participate, too. Helping out with the boys, organizing games, something
like that."
"I don't think so. Mr. Duvall keeps me pretty busy."
"Well, it was just a thought." Burke turned away and this time didn't
stop until he was back in the solarium, where Gregory was still talking.
"Father Kevin and I think it's essential that the children who stay at
Jenny's House are given chores. That will make it seem less like a
charitable facility and more like a normal home."
"Excellent idea, Father."
Gregory glanced at Burke with evident relief."Father Kevin and I agree
that giving the children a sense of responsibility, and praising even
the smallest achievement, is the first step toward reversing the
negative effects they've suffered thus far and building self-esteem."
Mrs. Duvall turned to Burke for confirmation. He nodded in agreement,
but at that moment he would have agreed to the theory that the moon was
cream cheese. It was damn near impossible to maintain a godly expression
so soon after handling her body powder puff. He tried to keep his gaze
above the cross hanging from the chain around her neck, but it was a
battle royal of wills between his id and his ego.
"God has blessed this visit, Father Kevin." Gregory held up a check for
ten thousand dollars made out to Jenny's House.
"You're very generous, Mrs. Duvall. God bless you."
"God bless your mission, Father Kevin."
Burke stood."We shouldn't take up any more of your time."
"Of course, we wouldn't want to do that." Gregory also came to his
feet."Once I start talking about Jenny's House, there's no stopping me."
"I've enjoyed it," she said."Can't you stay until my husband gets home?
I know he would like to meet you."
"No, no, we've got to run," Gregory said."More calls to make.
Some other time, perhaps."
Burke passed her a business card."I'm sure you'd like to hear progress
reports. Please call anytime."
"Thank you, I will."
"In fact, you might enjoy seeing the facility for yourself."
The suggestion rendered Father Gregory mute. He gaped at Father Kevin
with dumbstruck disbelief. Mrs. Duvall, on the other hand, was delighted
at the prospect."Would that be possible?"
"No."
"Of course."
Gregory and Burke answered at the same time, but Burke's reply overrode
Gregory's. Sheepishly, he said, "Naturally, whatever Father Kevin
wishes. I merely thought we would wait to have a formal open house once
the facility is completed. You know, invite all its supporters at once,"
he added lamely.
- "I'm sure Mrs. Duvall would prefer a private tour," Burke said,
looking deeply into her eyes.
"I don't expect preferential treatment," she said, 'but I would very
much like to see the work in progress. Maybe I could help out."
"Your contribution is help enough, I assure you," Father Gregory said,
sounding a bit desperate.
"But a favorable report from me might urge my husband to contribute even
more."
Burke smiled."All the more reason for you to make a personal visit.
Call whenever you'd like to go. We'll make ourselves available to fit
your schedule."
" Make ourselves available'? Fit your schedule'? Jesus, we're gonna
die."
"Will you stop that caterwauling? You're giving me a headache."
"What have you got me into, Basile? I don't like this. I agreed to do
you a favor, and I came through, didn't I? Not once, but twice. But this
is it. Finis. Applause, applause. Curtain down. Lights out and everybody
goes home. No encore. I've performed my last scene with you. You keep
changing the dialogue. And where did you go when you left the room?"
'"To pee."
"Oh sure, you did. I think you went snooping, is what I think."
"That's one of your main problems, Gregory. You think too much.
You'd do better to simply go with the flow."
"If I go with the flow, I'm liable to wind up floating facedown in the
Mighty Mississip'. My life is hardly studded with accomplishments, but
I'm not ready to die. Consider me out. As of now."
The argument continued all the way to Gregory's townhouse. Burke leaned
across the other man and opened the passenger door."Go in, put your feet
up, have a glass or two of wine, and calm down. I'll be in touch."
"I'm out. O-u-t."
"They don't serve Pinot Noir with dinner in prison, Gregory."
"You can't keep threatening me with jail. You've got nothing on me."
"Maybe not today. But give it a week or two. I'll stay on you like a
duck on a June bug. Sooner or later, you'll act on those impulses that,
by your own admission, you can't control."
'"My shrink and I are making progress."
"No, he's making money off what he knows is a hopeless case.
You're a psycho sugar tit and he's latched on."
Gregory slumped in his seat."You're a bastard, Basile."
"We've established that."
"You're stronger willed than I am. I can't win with you. Everybody picks
on me." Burke reached across the car, grabbed Gregory by the hair, and
turned his head toward him."Listen to me, you sniveling, spoiled, little
shit.
Believe it or not, this might be the best thing that ever happened to
you in your whole miserable life. For once, somebody is making you do
something you don't want to do. I'm giving you an opportunity to prove
that you're better than everybody believes. I'm giving you a chance to
be a man."
Gregory swallowed emotionally."I honestly don't think I can be, Basile.
I'd like to be, but as you said, I'm hopeless. I wouldn't count on me if
I were you."
"Well," Burke grumbled, releasing his hair, "unfortunately you're all
I've got."
Gregory set one foot on the pavement but made no other move to get out.
After a time, he said, "This isn't a police operation, is it?"
"No." Burke looked directly at him."No, it's not. It's a personal
vendetta. It has to do with my friend who got killed last year."
"I figured it was something like that. Thanks for finally being honest
with me."
"You're welcome."
Averting his head, Burke gazed through the cloudy windshield of his car.
He had to think about it for only a few seconds before saying, "Forget
it, Gregory. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I lied to you and
manipulated you every step of the way, and as you said yourself, that's
unfair.
"I'm about to do something that's crazy and dangerous. You were right
about that, too. In the process, you'd probably panic and screw up and
end up dead. I don't need another death on my conscience. I needed your
help on the clerical stuff, but I think I can wing it from here Thanks
for your help."
Then, as an afterthought, he added, "I hate to see
you screwing up your
life, Gregory. If you don't get smart and clean up your act, you'll
eventually get busted and sent away for a long time. One of these days
your daddy won't be able to buy you out of a serious charge that
disgusts not only the general populace but the prison population as
well. In there, they'd make your life hell, and might even kill you.
Think hard about the consequences the next time you get the urge to whip
it out and wag it at somebody, especially a kid."
Smiling wryly, he made the sign of the cross."Go and sin no more, my
son." Then he reached for the gear shift and put it into reverse.
"Wait." Gregory's handsome features were rearranged by indecision.
He gnawed the inside of his cheek."Could I get into trouble? Or hurt?"
"I swear I'd try to prevent that, but there's a risk, yes."
After several long moments of private deliberation, the younger man
sighed."Screw it. I'm in. What else have I got going?"
( hat do you mean he's disappeared?" v Bardo shrugged."Just what I said,