The Redeemed

by Jonas Saul

  “Vivian isn’t here right now. At least I can’t feel her. Most of what I told you is what I know from feeling her essence and sharing my body with her spirit for so long. But I do know one thing. Whether people believe in God or not, it doesn’t matter because he believes in us. All of us go home. Even the murdering psychopaths we kill. All we’re doing is getting them off this plane so the rest of us can enjoy life as best we can without their kind mucking things up for us. They go through their life review and they purge a lot for all the shit they did down here.”

  “What about ghosts? Are they real?”

  “Absolutely. They’re earthbound spirits. People who have died under extreme conditions that are bound to this plane by intense anger or love. Entities that are earthbound don’t know they’re dead and—”

  A knock on the door silenced her.

  “Go,” Sarah said. Her hand came out and pointed at the window, the fork between her fingers. “Now. Out the window.”

  Parkman ran the other way and entered the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

  “Dammit,” she whispered under her breath. “Now you’re going to get shot. You should’ve listened, Parkman.”

  The light in the bathroom was off, Parkman virtually unseen.

  “Come in,” Sarah called.

  The door opened and Father Adams stepped in.

  “Ahh, Father Adams. How good of you to come. But you must have the wrong room. No last rites needed here.”

  “Actually, I’ve come to talk with you about a small matter.”

  He kicked the door shut and turned to face her.

  Chapter 24

  Hirst waited in Father Adams’ office as instructed. The man of God was late for their meeting, but Hirst didn’t mind. It gave him a chance to learn more about the priest.

  At the door, he peeked out into the church. One woman sat in a pew by a statue of Jesus at the front, her eyes closed. Another woman sat near the back in the mostly empty pews, a Bible in hand.

  He closed the office door, walked around Father Adams’ desk, and opened drawers, rifling through paperwork, reading what he could. After five minutes, he realized he wouldn’t get too far this way. He would need Adams’ cooperation or a warrant to dig deep and find out who had access to church vehicles and property.

  At Sarah’s accident scene, they had secured the perimeter and searched each parking level one at a time. They found the vehicle that had been involved in Vicky Chard’s murder and Sarah’s fall from the fifth floor. Inside the white van, they had found a snake cage. But there was no perp.

  There was something about Father Adams that bothered Hirst, a self-assuredness, a smugness. How he became the church-appointed man to work with the police on the priest murders was something else Hirst wanted to know.

  And what happened to his ear?

  Hirst’s cell phone rang.

  “Hirst here. What’s up?” He walked around the desk and sat in one of the visitor chairs.

  “Detective Hirst, it’s Robert Kellman. I’m one of the men assigned to talk to local businesses by the building where Vicky—”

  “I know who you are. Why are you calling me?”

  “I thought you’d want in on this right away.”

  There was a moment of silence on the line.

  “This better be good,” Hirst said. “Speak fast.”

  “Two stores up from the building where Father George was found, we have a security camera with video footage of the front sidewalk.”

  “And?”

  “The store owner has given it to us.”

  “I’m assuming you watched it or you wouldn’t be calling me.”

  “Yes, sir, I did.”

  “And?” Hirst ran a hand through his hair.

  “Sir, as far as I can tell, Father Adams, the man I saw at the crime scene the other night, is the same man walking a young girl into the building. He used a key at the front door.”

  “How sure are you?” Hirst asked.

  “It’s him, because I saw him again.”

  “When?”

  “On the camera.”

  Hirst held his breath for a moment, then blew it out. He got to his feet and left the office.

  “What was he doing on the camera the second time?” he asked in a calm voice.

  “He walked Father George inside the building. This time I saw his face up close as it passed the camera. I was able to follow his path to the front of the building where he pulled keys, inserted them, and entered with Father George. There’s no doubt, sir.”

  “Have you told anyone else about this?”

  The woman in the front pew opened her eyes and glared at Hirst. He ignored her and kept walking to the street where his car was parked.

  “No sir. Called you first.”

  “Okay, call it in. Make sure everyone knows that Father Adams is a person of interest in this case.”

  “Got it,” Kellman said.

  Hirst dropped his phone into his pocket as he made it to the front of the church, slapped the door open and ran for his car.

  He needed to get to the hospital a few blocks away to warn Sarah and Parkman. There was a possibility that Adams wasn’t through with her yet.

  Chapter 25

  Sarah released her grip on the fork and rubbed her face. Vivian had to get better at sending Sarah feelings or premonitions. Sure, someone was coming at any minute, but Father Adams was hardly a threat.

  He moved across the room silently, his long coat draped past his knees, a brown fedora on his head. At the window, he stopped to stare down.

  Sarah glanced at the bathroom door quickly. It still sat ajar with no sign of Parkman, who evidently was taking her warning seriously by staying hidden.

  “What can I help you with?” Sarah asked.

  She adjusted herself. Aches and pains populated her body, centering on her abdomen where the bruising had turned into a purple and black mess. How she got out of that car alive was still a mystery. The initial pain from being shot in the foot was the smacking vibration of the bullet. When she thought the foot had numbed, she had felt nothing because the bullet had done no harm.

  He looked at her sidelong. “What faith are you?”

  She narrowed her eyes. “How is that relevant?”

  “Curiosity.”

  “I believe in God. Isn’t that enough?”

  He looked back out the window. “I’m not here to convert you—”

  “Good.”

  “Since you’re helping the police with the investigation and found yourself in a spot of trouble last night, I just wondered what you get out of all this.”

  “Redemption.”

  Adams’ eyebrows rose, crinkling the skin on his forehead, but he didn’t turn completely toward her.

  “How’s that?”

  “I’m sure there’s something more interesting to talk about, Father. Let’s get on to that subject. Why are you here? Not that I have a problem with your visit, per se, but you came for a reason, yes?”

  “I did,” he mumbled. “I did.” He cleared his throat. “How is it you’re qualified to help the police?”

  “They haven’t told you?”

  “I want to hear it from you.” Father Adams turned from the window and sat in the chair Parkman had been in moments before.

  “I have a special ability to track and hunt down the bad guys.” She smiled. “Since I was almost killed roughly eight hours ago, I can have a sense of humor about it, no?”

  “If you wish.” He leaned back in his chair. “Tell me something else.”

  Sarah waited.

  “Are you aware of the irony of you being here?”

  After thinking about it a moment, Sarah couldn’t come up with what he might be referring to.

  “The look on your face,” he said, “tells me you’re unsure what I’m talking about.” He slipped a hand inside a pocket on his jacket. “I’ll ask the question a different way.”

  Sarah lowered her hand and gripped the fork again. Someth
ing about Father Adams had changed.

  “The Bible talks about people who see the future and listen to the dead. It says they are practitioners of witchcraft. The Bible says you’re working for the devil. Do you feel you’re working for the devil and what you do is witchcraft?”

  “If it is, I wouldn’t stop. Because in the end, I get the bad guys and that’s what’s important. But I don’t have a lot of faith in your Bible and I don’t believe in Satan, so I’m good.”

  He looked surprised. “Interesting. Your beliefs serve your purpose.”

  “Not exactly. My beliefs are facts as I don’t just feel the other side and channel my sister’s messages. I have recently been able to feel her memories and be a part of her existence. That gave me an understanding of what is waiting beyond our mortal experience.”

  “And the Bible is worthless? Is that what you’re saying?”

  “Absolutely not. The Bible is filled with a ton of wisdom. It has served to help more people than not. But nothing in it holds up to scrutiny. I mean, something as simple as the names of the Apostles—Paul, John, Matthew, Andrew, James—gave it away for me. How did they find guys with those names in the Middle East?”

  Father Adams nodded his head slightly. “There are answers for your questions but I get the feeling you’re not interested in hearing them.” He got up from the chair. “I’ve come to tell you that you’re no longer needed in this investigation. Because you’re a charlatan who claims to speak with the dead, which is anti everything the Church stands for, I can’t allow you to work with the Church in saving the lives of men of God.”

  “Is that the irony you spoke of?”

  “You are hereby terminated from assisting the police,” he said, ignoring her statement.

  “I think you should wag more.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You’re used to being up on the pulpit and preaching. Just wag more.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Bark less, wag more. You’ll keep friends that way.”

  He started for the bed.

  Chapter 26

  Detective Hirst drove hard, but kept the siren off. He had slowed at two red lights, but preceded the green when he could.

  Parkman’s cell number kept going to a machine. When he tried the officer on duty at the hospital, he got no answer.

  Still three blocks from the hospital, he thought about dialing their main desk, but by the time he called information, got connected with reception and waited to be rerouted to hospital security, he would already be there.

  Earlier, when Hirst was talking to Parkman in Sarah’s room as she slept, Parkman had received a call from a guy named Aaron. They had chatted for a minute and then Parkman hung up. Hirst knew Parkman had his cell phone and that he was answering it. He either turned it off so Sarah could sleep, or there was a problem.

  Hirst pushed the pedal to the floor, felt the cruiser jerk forward, and decided to hit the siren.

  Something bad was happening. He could feel it.

  But would he be too late?

  Chapter 27

  As Father Adams approached the bed, he was close enough to see the bandage on his right ear that had been mostly hidden by the fedora.

  Sarah met his eyes, everything coming clear in that instant.

  Father Adams was the man from last night. Vivian had been right. Adams had inserted himself into the investigation and gone to the scene of the crimes. The scene of his crimes. Because she had psychic abilities and was getting close to him, he had to break from killing priests to take out the girl, the possessed girl who talks with the devil.

  She wrapped her fingers around the fork and held it in a strike position under her leg.

  “Doubting your faith?” she asked.

  He pulled his hand out of his pocket, fingers wrapped around a gun. Before he could point it at her, she lunged with the fork, jerking across the bed in such a sudden movement that she screamed out at the pain from her ribcage.

  Father Adams hopped out of the way, lowered the gun and clicked off the safety.

  Sarah rolled the other way, intent on dropping off the bed on the opposite side. She dreaded the thought of smacking into the floor, but dreaded the thought of another bullet hole even more.

  The gun fired as she crested the edge of the bed. She hit the floor hard, the air forced out of her lungs.

  She ground her teeth at the pain, but didn’t stop moving. A quick spin of her shoulders and she rolled under the bed. Frantic to stay away from the gun, she watched for his feet.

  Where’s Parkman?

  Adams walked around the bed to where she had fallen, but she wasn’t there anymore.

  Parkman?

  Adams took two steps along the side of the bed and then stopped. Like a one-eyed snake, Adams pushed the weapon under the bed searching for her.

  Ignoring the pain in her chest and ribs, she jabbed the fork into the meat at the top of the hand that held the weapon. Father Adams cried out and the gun pulled back.

  A second set of feet appeared behind Adams’ as he moaned at the fork still in his hand.

  Parkman.

  Someone was choking. She rolled out from under the bed and looked up as Parkman held Father Adams in a tight neck hold.

  The hand with the gun, the fork still in it, blood seeping from the stab wound, rose. Adams aimed over his shoulder, backwards at Parkman, who ducked his head aside.

  The bullet tore into the bathroom wall, missing Parkman. Parkman yanked back so hard on Adams’ neck that Father Adams’ feet left the floor momentarily, but his gun hand persisted.

  Before Sarah could get up on her one good foot, Adams brought the weapon down and twisted it behind him, turning the gun to aim at Parkman’s midsection.

  Adams fired.

  Parkman jerked as if he’d been punched in the stomach.

  Sarah screamed and dropped back to the floor, momentarily weakened by what she had just witnessed.

  Parkman let go of Father Adams’ neck and stumbled backwards, his hands trying to keep the blood in as it seeped past his fingers.

  Sarah had a crazy thought about being shot in a hospital and how he didn’t have to go far to see a doctor.

  She pivoted on the floor, brought up her good leg and kicked the back of Adams’ knees before he could turn toward her. Adams buckled but caught himself on the edge of the bed.

  Parkman bumped the night table on his way to the floor and swung his arm wide, knocking the lamp down beside Sarah before hitting the floor himself.

  As Adams faced her, his breathing haggard, he swung the weapon around. She grabbed the lamp Parkman had knocked over and brought it down on Adams’ foot.

  The gun went off again.

  Chapter 28

  Detective Hirst ran inside the hospital doors and stopped at security as the alarm sounded throughout the building. The guard was just getting off his chair as Hirst produced his ID.

  “What’s happening?” Hirst asked.

  “Not sure,” the overweight guard said as he donned his hat and started up the hall. “The buzzer is going off and no one told me anything. No one ever tells me anything.”

  “What floor?”

  “What?”

  Hirst tried to stay calm. “Does the alarm tell you what floor the trouble is on?”

  “The second floor.”

  Just then, the cop who was supposed to be guarding Sarah’s hospital room door on the second floor came strolling down the hall toward them. He had a burrito or something like it in his hand, a piece of foodstuff on the corner of his mouth.

  “Why aren’t you at Sarah’s door?” Hirst shouted.

  “I was given a break.”

  “By whom?” Hirst shouted back.

  “Father Adams came and said he’d stay with her for a while.”

  Hirst ran for the stairs. The cop and the hospital security guy followed him close. They hit the stairs running, one after another.

  Hirst wanted to turn around and kick the cop’s
teeth in. If something had happened to Sarah or his friend Parkman, maybe he would do just that.

  Before opening the door to the second floor, Hirst pulled his weapon and turned to see if the cop had his out, too.