Stalking Sapphire

by Mia Thompson

  Aston. She instantly felt guilty for even thinking about him at a moment like this and for even feeling things about what had happened the night before. Who the hell did he think he was? The way he had looked at her. The way he had touched her. It felt so genuine. Too genuine.

  He is an ass, she reminded herself so she wouldn’t go down that road again. But it was becoming harder and harder not to go down that road. As much as she tried to tell herself that she didn’t want to be around him, deep down she knew she was lying to herself. Truth was she had never felt as good as she did when he was there. When he touched her, her whole body relaxed, and for the first time in her life she felt safe. She rolled her eyes to herself. A life vest was supposed to make you feel safe. Your seatbelt was supposed to make you feel safe. Having great coverage on your car insurance was supposed to make you feel safe. Men were not!

  Sapphire looked at the time, ready to march in and find O’Riley, beat the crap out of him, and find out who else was in on it.

  Though she had been horribly off with Antonio the other night, one thing still held true: Father O’Riley was too old and too fragile to have done it alone.

  She snuck into his church, found his address, broke into his house, and found a note by his phone that had the name of a monastery. A few hours after that, she made it to the address, which was a few miles south of Big Bear.

  The monastery was remote, and she hadn’t been able to figure out what he was doing there yet. Taking off for an actual vacation as he had called it, in the middle of making Sapphire’s life a living hell, didn’t make sense.

  She used a crowbar to open the passenger door and hid in the back seat of his car. His car alarm screamed out for him for over fifteen minutes. Inside the car, the sound was mind-numbing and she had to put two fingers in her ears to try to drown it out.

  “EEEEEEUP EEEEEEUP! OOOOOOI OOOOOI OOOOOI! WA WA WA WA WA!” The alarm howled, and then started over for the hundredth time. It was the longest fifteen minutes of her life.

  She was starting to worry. Nobody, not a single person, had come out to check on the disturbance. Then finally the thick doors of the rectory opened and Father O’Riley’s face peeked out. He rolled his eyes, realizing it was his own car, and marched out to the green Toyota with his keys in hand.

  Sapphire glanced at him through the back window before scooting farther down. Looking at him, never in a million years would she assume he was a killer. He was about her height, his face and belly jolly like Santa’s. His eyes were blue and always managed to look genuinely kind. He had lost most of his hair and had tried to shave his remaining hair off to look less balding—making him look even balder. He looked like the neighbor that everybody on the block loved. Not Sapphire’s neighbor—unfortunately she lived next to Charlie Sheen—but a neighbor nonetheless. Not a murderer: not to Sapphire and certainly not to the congregation who held him in such high regards.

  Sapphire had seen him in action once. She’d come in for their usual bi-weekly confession, but the church was packed. The crowd, a group of exceptionally devoted Catholics, gazed up at him during his sermon as though he was something extraordinary.

  Sapphire sat down in the pew next to a couple of kids and their mother who was sporting a big, Kentucky Derby sized yellow hat. The woman would sob uncontrollably every time Father O’Riley opened his mouth.

  To them, his words were angelic, and he himself, was something close to divine. Sapphire, however, knew better. She’d heard him fart in the confession booth once, and there was nothing divine about his gas. To her, Father O’Riley was something much better than godly; he was human.

  Outside of Julia, who was the one that taught Sapphire to be different, the people she grew up around in Beverly Hills strived for one simple thing: perfection.

  Being surrounded by people who believed themselves to be perfect despite their true human nature was like being surrounded by Barbie dolls. Sure, their exteriors had a flawless symmetrical beauty, but if you dissected them, you’d find nothing inside but hollowness and the absence of a heart. Father O’Riley was—like Julia—the complete opposite. He’d laugh wholeheartedly with Sapphire without any concern of how it sounded—even snorting at times. He’d ask her how she was and then genuinely care about the answer…or so she though until now.

  “EEEEEEUP EEEEEEUP! OOOOOOI OOOOOI OOOOOI! WA WA WA WA WA!”

  Finally, Father O’Riley opened the door and slid in the driver’s seat, the alarm still blaring.

  Sapphire hunched as far down behind his seat as she could.

  “I hope you rot in hell, you cheap piece of crap. You’ve caused me nothing but trouble,” he spat and turned on the car. The alarm finally halted and the silence was music to Sapphire’s ears.

  Just as Father O’Riley turned to see the dent in the passenger side door, Sapphire pulled up her gun.

  “Drive.”

  Father O’Riley froze and his eyes slowly moved to the rearview mirror. When he saw her, his body relaxed. “Sapphire?”

  “Drive.”

  He turned slightly to look at her. “I know you think stuff like this is hilarious, but this isn’t what I consider humor.”

  Sapphire jammed her James Bond toy gun into the back of his neck. “Eyes in front. Drive. Now.”

  Chapter 14

  Other than Sapphire’s directions, not a word was spoken until they got to the cliff overlooking the dry California forest lying beneath. She motioned him out of the car and tossed Father O’Riley a rope, directing him to wrap it around his waist and then the tree behind him.

  “What are you doing, Sapphire?”

  She stayed silent. She kept the gun aimed at him as she took the remainder of the rope and tied it tight around another tree two feet behind the first, making it impossible for him to get loose until the cops came.

  “Sapphire,” he said calmly. “What on earth are you doing?”

  “This is not about me. It’s about what you have been doing.”

  An odd expression fell over Father O’Riley. He stared at her trying to figure out what she knew. “I think you are confused.”

  “I think you didn’t expect me to find out as soon as I did. I think you can drop the charade now to make it easier for the both of us. What did you do with her?”

  Father O’Riley’s eyes filled with panic. “How did you know?” he whispered.

  Sapphire tried to swallow the sadness that gripped her chest. Yes, she had believed it was Father O’Riley, but a part of her had hoped she was wrong. Over the past year, she had grown to trust him more and more, and she had felt as if there was an unspoken bond between them. Obviously, she’d been the only one.

  “Oh, please, you left tracks all over the place. I went to her house and your name was in her journal.” Sapphire could feel the tears burn at the back of her eyes. “How could you do it?”

  She and Father O’Riley locked eyes and to her surprise, his were full of remorse.

  “I…I…it just happened. I just felt like something wasn’t right for a long time and one day I just acted on it. I knew it was wrong, but it was the only thing I could do to make the world make sense again.”

  “I really didn’t want it to be you,” Sapphire said holding back the tremble in her voice.

  “I know I’m heading straight to hell for what I’ve done.” He shook his head, going into some sort of panic. “I’ve ruined everything; the Lord will never forgive me, in this life or the next. This is the sin of all sins and I justified it somehow.”

  Sapphire hated that she felt bad for him. When she read his name in the journal, she imagined him like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Now she realized it wasn’t like that. He had been Dr. Jekyll all along. The same man she had poured her heart out to. It made it so much worse. She wanted him to be evil. Being purely evil was the least he could do for her given the situation. At least curse at her and tell her how he wanted to kill her.

  “What did you do with her?”

  “Oh, please; do we really need to go in
to the details about it?”

  “Was there another man involved?”

  Father O’Riley looked up at her and the tears ceased momentarily. “Of course not! What kind of sick bastard do you think I am?”

  They looked at each other. Something was wrong.

  “Did you or did you not send me body parts?” Sapphire asked and held her breath.

  Father O’Riley’s face wrinkled in confusion and disgust. “What? What are you talking about?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “The woman I had sex with. The reason you brought me out here. Which frankly surprises me. You aren’t exactly the epitome of religion.”

  Sapphire held her gun aimed straight as she stared at him, now a little less sure. “Please. You expect me to believe that?” She sneered, actually starting to believe it.

  “What? Why would I lie about such a horrendous thing?” His eyes sought out to her in confusion.

  Rapidly, Sapphire walked up to him. She let the gun lead the way and didn’t stop until the barrel pressed against his forehead. “You’re lying! This is some sort of sick game, where I’ll relax and be all ‘oh thank God, it’s not you!’ and then I’ll let down my guard and you’ll be all ‘sucker, now I’ve got your gun.’” She squeezed the trigger lightly. “Admit it, or I’ll pull the trigger…One!”

  “Which part am I supposed to admit to? This is very confusing, Sapphire!” Father O’Riley yelled in panic.

  “Two!”

  “Don’t shoot! I slept with a woman but that’s all. There were no body parts that got chopped. I can’t even cut my own finger without passing out for the love of Mary.”

  “THREE!”

  “Oh dear!” Father O’Riley pinched his eyes shut and a tear trickled down his cheek as he started mumbling. “As-I-walk-through-the-valley-of-the-shadow-of-death…”

  As she watched him rant on, Sapphire’s whole body relaxed. It was as if somebody had been squeezing her lungs and now let go, allowing them fill up with air again. If Father O’Riley was innocent, it could mean one thing: Shelly McCormick was still alive.

  Sapphire exhaled, opened her arms wide and hugged Father O’Riley tighter than she had ever hugged anyone. “Oh thank God, it’s not you!”

  Father O’Riley stood in shock for a while, just blinking as Sapphire began to untie him. He looked down at the gun in her hand and snatched it from her. Sapphire looked up at him as he held it in his hand. He tilted his head and then peered at her with a look of wonder. “Why does it say double O seven?”

  * * * * *​

  Father O’Riley drove Sapphire back to where she had parked her car while she summed up the past few weeks. He listened carefully and looked horrified as she shared the gruesome parts.

  Sapphire remembered how good it felt to be able to talk to someone about it all. Especially now. When she was done, he sat silent for a minute or so, just shaking his head.

  “I wish you would have come to me. I know I’m not much of a help with these things, but at least you wouldn’t have carried all of it yourself,” he said with such worry in his voice that he sounded like a concerned parent. “I wish you would consider going to the police. They could take care of it all if they had your information. A girl’s life is at stake here. This is not the time to be playing your game.”

  “I have considered it. Trust me. I’ve captured eight serial killers by myself. I’ll get to him before they do.”

  Father O’Riley turned down a dirt road and her white Range Rover came into view.

  “I think you’re getting a God complex,” Father O’Riley mumbled.

  “Speaking of which. Back in the woods, it seemed like you thought you deserved to die there for a bit. Just because you canoodled someone?”

  “Sapphire,” he said, his tone very serious. “In my line of work, canoodling someone is the worst thing you can do.” His hands squeezed the wheel tightly. “That’s why I took my vacation. I needed to make a decision.”

  “About what?”

  “About whether to come clean or not, or just resign and let God deal with my sin instead of the church.”

  He pulled up behind her Range Rover and sat, staring down at his own chest. “I know it’s not much to you,” he said. “What I have done is…is disgracing my whole profession. My faith. Breaking celibacy as a Catholic priest is…I do not deserve my title anymore.”

  “I think you are being a little overdramatic,” Sapphire said.

  “No. I am not.”

  “Tell me about the woman. What’s she like?”

  Between the guilt and anxiety escaping every pore of Father O’Riley’s body and soul, he now looked up and there was warmth shining through. He closed his eyes and smiled as if reliving something. “She is…perfect. She’s a widow and a wonderful mother of three, and she is just the purest, most giving human being I’ve ever met. Not only did I disgrace myself, but she can’t even come to church anymore because of the guilt. I gave up everything for twenty minutes of temptation of the flesh. Like some horrible addict.”

  “First of all—gross. Second of all—you didn’t just give it all up for twenty minutes of hoopla. You’re in love. It’s clear.”

  Father O’Riley looked at her like the thought had never even entered his mind. The words seemed to bring him instant comfort. Then the guilt returned.

  “My love is supposed to be with God and God only.”

  “Screw God. Doesn’t he have enough love from all the other millions of people around the world? He’s going to get hubris.”

  Father O’Riley smiled softly in a thanks-for-trying-but-no sort of way. Sapphire opened the broken passenger door and it made a high-pitched squeak. She looked from the door to Father O’Riley with big innocent eyes. “I’ll reimburse you for that.”

  “Hey!” Father O’Riley yelled before she could close the door. “That girl, Shelly, I think I remember her. She came in last week with the Calado family. Sweet girl, reminded me of you. Well, not the sweet part.”

  “Yeah.” Sapphire lingered by the door. Then she fished the angelical ceramic statue out of her pocket and handed it to Father O’Riley. “Does this mean anything special? I looked up a bunch of angels but none of them look like this one.”

  Father O’Riley turned the angel in his palm, studying it. “It’s Michael. A rare version of the Christian Michael.”

  Sapphire must have looked dumbfounded because Father O’Riley explained. “Saint Michael. Michael the Archangel. You know, as in sent down from God to protect man.” He gave it back to her, and she put it back in her pocket. “Come see me if you need to.”

  “I will.”

  “Be careful.”

  “Yes, Mommy.”

  Sapphire got into her car, waved at Father O’Riley, and headed back to L.A with something she didn’t have when she left home that morning: hope.

  There was a large possibility that Shelly McCormick could still be alive. However, with that realization came a much more urgent question: For how long?

  * * * * *​

  Aston pulled up to the mansion and yawned. After a solid six hours of sleep, he woke up before his alarm rang and couldn’t stay in bed. He had a quick bowl of Raisin Bran and shot out the door without even showering.

  He found Barry giggling to Dharma and Greg on the big flat screen in the Dubois living room.

  “What the fuck are you doing? Where is everyone?”

  Barry flew off his ass and stood straight up in front of Aston, like a soldier to a general.

  “Mrs. Dubois is at Pilates. Mr. Dubois at a physical therapist and she is in her room.”

  The Dubois housekeeper walked up to Barry with a tray of homemade pizza rolls.

  “Here you go,” she said and prompted him to take the plate.

  Barry stood still, staring at Aston with big eyes, scared to even glance at the pizza rolls.

  “Did you just have her make your lazy ass snacks on duty?” Aston asked in a cold voice.

  “No?” Barry s
aid, looking like he was about to burst into tears. “Yes…yes, I did,” he added shamefully and hung his head.

  “Get the fuck out.” Aston pointed toward the door.

  Barry eyed the pizza rolls. “Can I—”

  “No.”

  Barry headed toward the door, self-loathing, as Aston nodded a thank you to the housekeeper and stuffed a handful of the pizza rolls in his mouth. “Mmmm,” he said approvingly. Then something hit him. “Barry. How long has she been up in her room?”

  Barry looked from Aston to the housekeeper and back to Aston, worried.

  “It’s not a trick question; just answer,” Aston said, a growing suspicion in his gut.

  “Seven, maybe eight hours.”

  “Crap!” Aston ran up the stairs toward her room. He grabbed the handle—the door was locked. A commercial jingle blared from the inside.

  Barry showed up behind him as Aston knocked on the door.

  “When was the last time you checked on her?”

  “Two hours ago or so.”

  “What did she say?”

  Barry Harry scratched his head, uncomfortable. “She didn’t say anything per se; the TV was loud, so she didn’t hear me knocking.”

  “You stupid son of a…” Aston mumbled as he picked the lock with his tools. The keyhole made a click and he opened the door to an empty room.

  Barry stood in place with wide eyes. “I…I…I…” he stuttered.

  “Get the fuck out so I can clean up your mess.” Aston had to restrain himself from punching Barry in the face for the second time that week. The first time had been back in the station’s break room when Barry stole the last good grain from the bagel box.

  Aston watched as Barry made his way down the Dubois’ staircase, expecting the boy to break out in tears. Sometimes he made Barry cry, but it wasn’t on purpose. Well…most of the time it wasn’t on purpose.

  Two minutes later Aston was in his car, driving toward the only place he could think of. The old gas station.