by Allan, Dale
GRATEFUL THAT HIS FAMILY was now home and safe, Luke decided to tackle another unpleasant task that had been weighing on his mind for the last several days. Leaving once again from the woods behind the house, he drove to Roxbury and eventually pulled through the black iron gates of a small, secluded cemetery. He eased the car down the winding road leading to Aaron’s grave and parked on the grass that lined the narrow lane. Mesmerized, he stared at the headstone in the distance without blinking, wishing that this was a bad dream and that he would eventually wake up.
He emerged from the car, relieved to see that there was no sign of the press. Weeks had passed since “the incident,” so he figured most of them had quit stalking the cemetery and had moved on to other places in hopes of getting pictures of his family. As he knelt in the freshly excavated dirt and read the name on the headstone, he started to cry.
“I’m sorry I hurt you; I can’t believe we weren’t talking to each other. Aaron, I love you with all my heart. I really don’t know what to do about Deborah and the children, but you have my word that I’ll always stay close and watch over them. Dad and Mom are getting stronger, but they miss you so much.” He smiled, tears rolling down his face. “You’re not going to believe it, but Dad and I are friends again. I never wanted to hurt you or the family. If I thought that being a priest was going to drive us apart, I never would have done it. If I wasn’t a priest, I wouldn’t have known about the homeless shelter in the middle of your project, and we would have never stopped talking. Maybe you wouldn’t have been on that stage with Brad Thompson.” Burying his head in his hands, he pleaded, “God help me!”
After walking back to the car, he got in and sat, drained. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t leave. Maybe he just wanted to be close to his brother, but he had no desire to be anywhere else. Nearly an hour passed before he looked at the clock on the dashboard and decided it was time to go. Putting his hand on the ignition key to start the car, he instinctively looked in his rearview mirror and saw something that made him stop.
A white Cadillac inched down the narrow road. Hoping that it was just another mourner, but wanting to be cautious, he moved his hand from the ignition to the side of his seat, pushing the recline control. The seat inched slowly backward as the white car got closer. Luke realized that the tinted windows would make it hard for anyone to see him, but he wasn’t taking any chances. As the car passed, he couldn’t see inside from the position he was in, but he noticed the license plate, “LS 1.” The car slowed and parked about fifty feet ahead of him on the same side of the road.
Curious, Luke waited. After fifteen minutes, he returned his seat to its normal position in anticipation of starting the car, but he stopped when a tall blonde woman wearing high heels emerged from the Caddy and walked down the row where Aaron was buried. Luke was dismayed when she stopped in front of his brother’s grave. Determined to find out who she was, he quietly got out of the car, not wanting to be noticed. Walking silently on the grass, he moved closer. When he was about fifteen feet away, she looked up, obviously startled, and began to cry. Luke continued walking toward her.
By the time he was standing next to her, she was hysterical. Raising her hands to hold her face, she dropped her purse. When she bent down to get it, her sunglasses fell to the ground. Luke bent down to pick them up and noticed that her heels had sunk into the loose dirt. When he stood, they were standing face to face, looking into each other’s eyes for the first time.
“I’m Luke, Aaron’s brother,” he said, while handing her the glasses. She opened her purse, placed them inside, and fumbled for a tissue. Sobbing, she extended her hand and said, “I’m Lori Simpson.” When she didn’t continue talking, Luke asked, “Have we met before?”
She turned to face him. “No, I’d only known your brother for about nine months. But I know a lot about you.” Realizing that she was very upset, he didn’t prod further but stood silently while she attempted to compose herself. Uncomfortable after several minutes of silence, he turned to leave. She looked up and said, “Please don’t go. I was a very close friend of your brother. We need to talk.” She slowly began walking and Luke followed.
“As I’m sure you know by now, Aaron was planning to run for senator in the next election. I was going to be his campaign manager, press secretary, and eventually, once he was elected, his chief of staff. We met while working on Brad Thompson’s presidential campaign after his first manager quit and Aaron reluctantly accepted the job. For the past several months, we spent an enormous amount of time together, working seven days a week, fifteen hours a day.” She continued walking, while dabbing her eyes with a tissue. “We were very close, and I can’t tell you the impact his death has had on my life.”
Feeling he should say something, Luke stated the obvious. “Mine also.” He wanted to ask her if they were having an affair, but he didn’t want to embarrass her.
She continued, “I just keep asking myself, why? Why did this happen?”
Now Luke had his opening. He stepped in front of her and she stopped walking. He asked, “Do you have any idea who did this?”
“I don’t know. There are rumors in political circles that it had something to do with Brad Thompson. I’ve heard allegations about everyone from pro-choice groups to Mexican drug lords. I understand that the FBI has questioned Steve Hinkley.”
“Who’s he?”
“A local pro-choice activist who made threats on the Internet.”
Luke asked in disbelief, “How could a local guy like that have the resources to pull off a bombing of that magnitude?”
She raised her voice and said, “I don’t know. I’m just telling you what I’ve heard.”
Sensing her frustration with his questioning, Luke said softly, “Who did you hear this stuff from?”
“I have a connection in the governor’s office.”
“Who’s that?”
“My husband is the lieutenant governor.”
Without thinking, Luke said, “You’re married?”
Agitated, she replied sharply, “Regardless of what you’ve been thinking, Aaron and I were only close friends. It wasn’t my choice, since I would have left my husband in a second for him, but unfortunately he was completely committed to his wife. Everyone seemed to assume that we were having an affair. Your brother was one of the best people I’ve ever known. Be sure to let his wife know that he loved and admired her. He talked about her all the time. And when he wasn’t talking politics, or about his wife and children, he was talking about you.”
Luke remained silent and she continued. “The day Aaron was killed, I lost everything: my best friend, my career, and my future. All I have left is a loveless marriage.” She began crying again.
Not knowing what to say, Luke asked gently, “Do you come here often?”
“Just about every day. I have no place else to go.”
Realizing how close Lori was to his brother, he bluntly asked, “Why did Aaron have a gun?”
“There were constant threats from people who disagreed with Brad and Aaron’s political views. None were specifically directed at Aaron that I know of, but just about every day we would receive an intimidating letter or voice mail message.”
“How did he get the gun?”
She looked at him in disbelief. “Luke, if the bombing had never happened, Brad Thompson would be president right now. Aaron would have been the closest and most trusted confidant to the most powerful man in the world. If he wanted a military helicopter, he could have gotten one.”
Turning the last bend of the circular road that led through the graveyard, they approached their cars. He opened her door and said, “I’m really glad I met you.” When he extended his hand to shake hers, she moved his arm aside and hugged him tightly. Before driving away, she asked, “Will I see you again?”
He smiled. “You will if you’re here tomorrow.”
AFTER DINNER, LUKE CHECKED the cell phone detective Romo had given him and noticed a text message: “The two phone numbers y
ou gave me to trace must belong to high-ranking government officials. I can’t get any information without sign-off from the FBI. Sorry.” Disappointed, Luke sent a text back, thanking him.
Seeing Deborah sitting alone in the living room, he stopped and sat on a chair across from her. “Can you take a ride with me tomorrow?”
In slurred words she asked, “Where to?”
Realizing that she was drunk, he answered, “I’ll tell you in the morning.”
She took a sip from her glass and nodded affirmatively.
Annoyed that she was drinking again, he sarcastically asked, “How’s the wine?”
She gave him an aggravated look as she attempted to stand, but she wobbled on her high heels and landed back on the couch, red wine splashing all over her white blouse. Refusing to help, Luke forced himself to walk out of the room in silence. He realized that she was in no condition to take care of the children, so he occupied them by playing games until their bedtime. When it was time for them to go to sleep, he walked down the hall and saw Deb in her room, passed out on the bed, so he decided to let the kids sleep in his room while he spent the night on the floor.
The next morning Luke decided to skip his workout, and he opened the door to retrieve the morning paper that the security guards placed on the front steps each day. Noticing that the paper was placed with the front page down, he immediately turned it over and realized why. Under the headline “Who’s Your Daddy?” was a picture taken in the bank, showing Luke walking while holding the children’s hands.
Flipping to the article as he walked into the library, he was shocked again. Someone from the bank had leaked the exact amount of money that Luke, Deborah, and his parents had received from Aaron’s life insurance policy. The subtitle read, “Vow of Poverty? Not for the Millionaire Priest.” The reporter knew every detail, including the double indemnity payment.
Luke stared at the headline, thinking that if the reporter had spent just a few minutes researching the rules for diocesan priests, he would have known that they don’t take formal vows of poverty, chastity, or obedience like religious priests do. They do, however, make promises at their ordination to lead a celibate life, to respect and obey their diocesan bishop, and to live a simple lifestyle. While in the seminary, Luke had known several priests who came from extremely wealthy families and had inherited large amounts of money. Most took the opportunity to use these funds for charitable work.
Gazing out the window, Luke thought about the unlisted phone numbers. He was almost certain that one of them belonged to Brad Thompson, but what about the other one? He had an idea. Taking out his cell phone, he looked up Rebecca Bruno’s number, pressed the send button, and waited.
She answered on the third ring and said in a beautiful Italian accent, “Father Luke, it’s so nice to hear from you.”
Luke smiled. “Very nice to hear your beautiful voice, Rebecca.”
“How’re you doing? How are Aaron’s wife and the children?”
Luke spent fifteen minutes updating her on everything that had been going on. Toward the end of the small talk he interjected, “I’ve been spending time trying to reconstruct the last few weeks of my brother’s life.”
There was silence for a few seconds before she responded, carefully choosing her words. “I admire your determination. If that was my brother, I would spend every penny I have and search until my last breath trying to find the SOB responsible for his death.”
Luke had never seen this side of her before, but he found himself agreeing with her statement. He figured the time was right to ask his favor. “That’s why I’m calling you today. I was wondering if Sal could help trace a few phone numbers that my brother called before his death.”
He could hear her rummaging through some papers in the background. “Give me the numbers.”
Luke repeated them twice to ensure she had them written down correctly. “Rebecca, please let him know that this can wait until after Thanksgiving.”
“I’ll call him right now.”
Thanking her, he closed the phone and walked into his bedroom to check on the kids. Luke sat on the edge of the bed and watched the two angels as they slept. They were perfect, innocent children whose lives were turned upside down by people who probably didn’t even know their names. He gently took Alessa’s soft hand in his and rubbed it while thinking, “How much would Aaron have paid to do this just one last time?” Looking up, he saw his father watching from the doorway, and they exchanged smiles.
Deborah was absent from breakfast, so Luke and his parents entertained the children. When she finally shuffled into the kitchen, he immediately observed her bloodshot eyes and pale complexion. As soon as she sat down at the table, he stood, excused himself, and walked into the library. Seeing that he had two new voice mails on his cell phone, he picked it up and listened. Aaron’s financial adviser and the bank president had both left messages apologizing for the leak of his personal financial data to the press. Jim Hathaway let him know that the teller responsible for the leak was fired.
Deep in thought, Luke looked up to see Deborah standing in the doorway. Knowing he was disappointed in her, she said, “Sorry,” and turned to walk away.
Before she was out of earshot he asked, “Can you take a ride with me?”
She turned back. “Where to?”
“I’ll tell you when we’re in the car.”
ONCE LUKE TOOK THE Roxbury exit, Deborah didn’t have to ask where they were going; she knew. They followed the winding road that led to Aaron’s grave in silence. Stepping out of the car, Luke walked slowly toward the grave with Deb holding his arm. When they reached the headstone, she fell to her knees and wept. Luke felt awkward but remained standing next to her with his hand on her shoulder. After a few minutes, Luke heard something and looked up. The white Caddy was pulling onto the grass. He told Deb, “Wait here for a minute,” as he hurried to greet Lori.
Lori didn’t have to be told the identity of the woman at the grave; she had stared at Deborah’s picture on Aaron’s desk many times.
When Luke approached, she asked, “Luke, do you think I should be here? Now?”
Luke helped her from the car. “She needs to meet you. She thinks that you and Aaron were having an affair and it’s killing her.”
Understanding, Lori took a deep breath and proceeded toward the grave. As they approached, Deborah looked up, puzzled. She quickly dried her eyes, put on her sunglasses, and stood. Luke took charge. “Deborah, this is Lori. She worked very closely with Aaron on the campaign.”
Lori wiped a tear from her eye and reached out her hand. Deborah shook it suspiciously. Luke suggested, “Let’s take a walk.” After a few minutes, Luke asked, “Lori, were you having lunch with Aaron downtown when one of Deb’s friends saw you?” Deborah immediately looked up.
Lori looked at Deb and answered, “Yes. He was upset because he didn’t want you to know.”
Deborah asked sharply, “Know what?”
Lori stopped walking and grabbed Deb’s hand while facing her. “He didn’t want you to know that he was planning a party to celebrate your tenth wedding anniversary.”
Deborah began to cry. “So you weren’t having an affair with him?”
Now also crying, Lori answered, “He loved you so much. When he wasn’t talking about politics, he was always talking about you and the children. He was a good man, a decent man. I admired him so much and can only imagine how you must feel. I’m so sorry. But to answer your question directly, no, we weren’t having an affair. He would never do something like that. You had to see the way his eyes lit up when he talked about you.”
Lori and Deborah were now walking in front of Luke with their arms interlocked, talking quietly. As they finished the loop, Luke headed toward the car so that the two women could spend time together at the grave. When Deborah noticed this, she quickly ran back and insisted he join them. Standing there with the two of them, he knew Aaron was happy. Before leaving, Luke watched as Lori and Deborah hugged each othe
r and exchanged phone numbers.
As they drove home, Deborah thanked Luke several times for introducing her to Lori. She promised that she would control her drinking, pay more attention to the children, and be more responsible. This time he actually believed her. After they parked the car in the secret spot, Luke helped her over the wall and into the house.
They were home only for ten minutes when Luke’s cell phone rang. Seeing the security guard’s number, Luke asked, “Is everything OK?”
“Yes, Mr. Miller, but there’s a black limo here, and the man inside says he needs to talk with you.”
“Who is he?”
A new voice on the phone said, “Father Miller, I’m Anthony Amato, Mr. Bruno’s driver. He sent me to pick you up. He told me to tell you that he has the info you requested and wants to see you in person.”
“How did you know I was home?”
He laughed. “Father, Mr. Bruno knows everything. I don’t think you should keep him waiting.”
Luke quickly explained to Deborah that he had an appointment. She didn’t ask any questions but told him to be careful. Approaching the car, Luke was surprised to see two people sitting in the front seat. A man quickly jumped out and opened the back door for Luke. “I’m Bobby. I work with Anthony.” Luke shook his hand and sat in the backseat.
The two goons sat in front, singing along with the songs from the radio as they sped through downtown Boston. Luke wasn’t surprised when they reached the North End, also referred to as Little Italy. Pulling up to Dom’s Restaurant, Luke was surprised when a man appeared out of nowhere and moved two orange construction cones so that the limo could park directly in front.