Brother Sebastian, their in-house expert, had affirmed the killer had acted without premeditation, probably a result of “mutual combatants,” he’d called it. He’d seen it many times. The father had used this information to comfort the brothers. JC’s death had been a mistake, after all. Nothing more severe than a suspended sentence waited for the responsible party.
But none of that mattered now. Yes, Brother Micah might have inadvertently solved all their troubles.
Rather than burying JC’s body in the spring, the way he’d considered, they could toss it into the forest, waist high with snow. It would look like an accident. A crazy hiker had gotten lost and died from exposure. Occurred often in Colorado. In a sense, that’s exactly what had happened. If it weren’t for Brother Casey’s sharp eyes—those big hazelnut eyes—they’d never have found JC. Officials would have declared his death the result of hypothermia. No questions asked.
That was the best plan. Dump the body in the forest before the April snowmelt and the guests, and act as if they had never found him. Conceal the truth—regardless of the class of crime. It was for their best interests. His, the abbey’s, and his fellow monks’. Perhaps even JC’s.
No counterforce wielded the might to impede his resolve. The others would have to abide by his orders. He was the abbot. His word echoed the word of God.
His largest obstacle would be Brother Sebastian. He needed to think of a way to bury the issue without alarming him. The others remained as obedient as Abraham. But Brother Sebastian—he demanded answers. Father Paolo had misjudged his determination.
Father Paolo had already dropped a few hints for him to stop the investigation, but he knew Brother Sebastian’s steadfastness well. Perhaps he’d been wrong to have insisted Brother Sebastian investigate. He’d unleashed a mountain lion on them rather than the snooping house cat he’d expected.
Brother Sebastian’s detective skills had sharpened since he’d brought him into his office that day and solicited his help. Slick and methodical. Overly so. There must be a way to force him to stop without incurring his rancor. Or worse, forcing mutinous resentment.
The father had appealed to his vanity by asking him to solve the crime. He’d use the same tactic to persuade him to quit.
If that failed to accomplish his objective, then he’d employ a more direct approach. One Brother Sebastian couldn’t refuse.
Chapter Sixteen
SEBASTIAN was headed to his cell after lunch to dress for None when a hand laid upon his back startled him. He jerked around, smiled. “What can I do for you, Brother Rodel?”
“I didn’t mean to scare you, Brother Sebastian,” he whispered, glancing up and down the corridor. “But can I speak with you for a moment in private?”
“What’s it about?”
Brother Rodel led Sebastian into his cell and shut the door halfway. “I think you should stop,” he said, maintaining a soft voice.
“Stop what?”
“The investigation. Everyone knows about it. Word is Father Paolo asked you to look into Brother JC’s death, and you’ve been asking everyone many questions. Please don’t do it anymore.”
Curious, Sebastian analyzed the diminutive young monk’s face. Had Father Paolo put him up to persuading him to ditch the investigation? But Brother Rodel’s beseeching appeared heartfelt. Always a worrywart, he had cautioned Sebastian about many issues in the past, real and trivial.
Sebastian supposed being the youngest of eight siblings had made him extra guarded. He’d come from a strict Catholic upbringing in the Philippines. “Dirt poor,” Brother Hubert had disclosed. Brother Rodel had so many official names Sebastian couldn’t remember all of them—Rodel Roberto Aquino Lubiano, or something like that. He’d once told Sebastian that, as a male, his family had expected him to either enter the clergy or the military. Two brothers had joined the U.S. Navy, one an officer stationed in San Diego, the other onboard an aircraft carrier in the Persian Gulf. Yet a third brother had enlisted in the Australian Navy.
His diaspora family, scattered across the globe—the United States, Britain, New Zealand, Australia—couldn’t have been more proud of his choosing the monastic life, Brother Rodel had told him in passing last summer. Including his five sisters, all of whom lived abroad, like their brothers. The money the children sent home to their widowed mother in the Philippines allowed her to live like the village princess.
“I’m worried for you,” Brother Rodel pressed. “For all of us. What if the killer wants to do more harm? If you keep quiet, maybe the bad seed will leave everyone alone and he’ll return to where he belongs after the spring thaw.”
“Someone should investigate, don’t you think?”
Brother Rodel fell into a trance and peered toward the tiled floor. “Can’t we go back to our normal lives, as if JC had never come here?” He looked again at Sebastian, imparting an uncommon self-determined expression for him. “JC’s death is irreversible. Let’s leave it alone, please.”
Sebastian scoffed at Brother Rodel’s dramatics. Surely he was overreacting. But Brother Rodel clung to his fight.
He fixed his eyes on Sebastian. “We’ve lived together, day in and day out, for nearly two years. Don’t you trust me? It’s best if we put it all behind us. I don’t want you to look for the killer.”
Sebastian licked his dry lips. “Would it be so horrible to uncover the truth?”
“Do you really want to know, Brother Sebastian? Are you prepared to learn who among us killed JC and stored his body in the freezer?”
Sebastian stared deep into Brother Rodel’s oil-black eyes. Persistence and urgency swam in those dark irises. And so did fear.
Swallowing hard, Sebastian said, “Please, tell me, Brother Rodel, is there something you know? Did you see anything the night of JC’s murder that might pinpoint the killer?”
Brother Rodel shook his head vigorously. “We’re in danger here, Brother Sebastian. I can feel it. Please, I beg you. Stop the investigation. Stop before another one of us gets hurt.”
WANTING to discard the uneasiness that lingered in his bones from his strange encounter with Brother Rodel, Sebastian decided to take advantage of a break in the storms and take Delores outside for a stroll. He smiled when Casey came into the entrance foyer, where Sebastian was pulling on his boots.
“Good thing I caught you walking by,” Sebastian said to him. “I was about to take Delores out. Why don’t you strap on the old snowshoes and come along?”
Casey’s face brightened. “Do you think Father Paolo will allow it?”
“It’s our free period. We can do what we please. Look outside. The storms have finally passed. God beckons us.”
Casey gazed at him, his brown eyes wide and wondering. Like a boy about to skip school. “Let me get into proper gear. I’ll meet you and Delores out front. Ten minutes, okay?”
Fifteen minutes later, Casey, dressed in snow pants and parka, strolled onto the front walkway that Brothers Eusebius and Micah had cleared earlier. He sat on the top step and fastened the hand-me-down snowshoes onto the boots someone had gifted to the abbey. Delores danced in circles around Sebastian and bit at the snow, barking in anticipation of their hike.
“Where should we go?” Casey asked, struggling to stay limber in the hip-high snow as he wobbled forward with the aid of an old pair of ski poles Sebastian had left by the snowshoes.
“We’ll find out once we get there.”
“I doubt we’ll get too far in this.”
Sebastian chewed his lower lip to keep from grinning too widely. He felt freer than he had in many months. First time since September of last year he’d gone on a day hike. And how pleasant to leave his Trappist garments behind. Nice to have his feet in something more substantial than sandals. He and Casey kept on their scapulars to shield their faces from the cold with the hoods, and his heavy snow pants allowed him the freedom to kick up his legs. Casey laughed when he nearly fell backward.
It took a good few minutes before they could acclim
ate to distributing their weight so they would not sink up to their waists. Heated under the heavy layers, Sebastian smiled at Casey’s quick grasp of snowshoeing.
Up to their knees, they pushed on toward the surrounding forest. Delores stepped in the small gullies created by their snowshoes and snapped at the snow chunks spit up from their frames. Tightly packed trunks of birch, aspen, and spruce filled Sebastian’s vision. A wondrous grid of thick and thin brown pillars. Comfy in his winter gear, Sebastian felt he might hike through the forest until he reached the ends of the earth.
Casey stopped to catch his breath. “Good to get exercise and fresh air, but this is some effort.”
With his ski poles held wide, Sebastian exclaimed, “It’s fabulous.”
For the moment, Sebastian permitted himself to act silly. He needed to nourish the child inside him. Perhaps God had sent Casey into the entrance foyer for a reason—so that Sebastian could ask him to tag along with him on a hike. To traipse outside on a clear day and inhale the invigorating mountain air. He wanted to fling decorum aside, join the warblers and wrens in their chatter and singing. Release the stress and pressure.
The more Sebastian glanced at Casey in his snowy getup, the more he was glad Casey stood on his side. The clever Casey had proved a good investigator with the realization that JC’s Virgin Mary figurine was missing from his cell. Casey had as much reason as any of them to kill JC. But Sebastian refused to believe it. He’d never pictured any of his fellow brothers capable of rash violence. Casey especially was too sensitive, in an intelligent way. Sebastian hadn’t defied the abbot when he’d solicited Casey’s help. Notwithstanding temptation, Sebastian had never once reported the crime to an outsider.
Delores sniffed the remnants of animal tracks and droppings that dotted the hardened snow. Sebastian recognized they belonged to deer mice. Everything popped out from hiding after the eternal blizzards. Above them, sparrows gathered in tight bands in the tree branches and created a canopy of avian chanting. Casey reached into his pocket and flung them crumbs. They scurried from the trees and pecked at the snowy ground.
Sebastian grinned. “Is that why you were late meeting me outside, to get bread from the kitchen?”
“The search for food is difficult with all this snow,” Casey said. “I thought I’d help them out.”
A blast of wind cuffed Sebastian’s ears. He pulled his hood lower over his face and glanced between the white tree branches toward the sky. Cumulus clouds edged the western side of twelve-thousand-foot Mt. Ouray, which jutted above the white awning of trees to the north. More snow would fall by evening. He stomped closer to Casey, who gazed around at the golden dapples of snow.
The canons of the abbey, fortified by St. Benedict’s fifteen-hundred-year-old Rule, receded into the distance the farther they hiked. Sebastian let his spoken words carry up and along the snow. Loud and full of vigor. He wanted to scream until the snow shook from the trees. What were those words that crossed his mind like a marquee? Who had he meant? God or Casey? Perhaps he loved both equally.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Sebastian said, steam curling from his mouth.
“I’ll say.” Casey echoed Sebastian’s enthusiasm. “Look over there, how the snow on the trees makes a nice tunnel. Let’s hike under it.” The crowns of the spruce trees, joined at the tops and bent in a fixed curtsey from the heavy snowfall, created a frozen ballet of white. Sebastian instinctively ducked his head. Snug in their “snow grotto,” he mounted his sunglasses on his head and peered around. The encompassing snow absorbed their voices and Delores’s barks. A comforting seclusion cloaked Sebastian. As if he and Casey were the only two people left on Earth.
Matching Sebastian’s youthful zeal, Casey reached his gloved hands for the branches of the trees and laughed. But when their eyes met across their snowy tunnel, Casey’s laughter faded. His grin eased into a rigid, tight line. Points of moisture sparkled in the corners of his eyes.
“What is it, Casey?” Sebastian whispered.
“I don’t know how to say this, but out here, secluded from the others… I feel… I feel that I should.”
“Well,” Sebastian said, “then let’s hear it.”
Casey inhaled, and he looked away toward the far end of the tunnel. “I know about you being a former homicide detective with the Philadelphia Police Department, and that’s why Father Paolo asked you to investigate JC’s death.”
Sebastian released a burst of silver steam from his nostrils and clenched his gloved hands by his sides. “I figured you’d learn soon enough,” he said. “Everyone else has, I suppose. Did Brother Hubert tell you?”
“Guess he hadn’t gotten around to it yet. I’ve only been here a few months.” Casey’s cheeks, already pink from the rigorous hike and the cold, blossomed brighter. “I found out on my own. When I was searching on the off-limits computer for information on JC. I googled your name. I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it.”
A man much like himself, Sebastian realized. “Don’t feel bad. I’d probably do the same myself had I been in your place.” Sebastian lowered his hood to get a clearer view of Casey. “Did you have time to read the details?”
What Sebastian hinted at was history, yet it surrounded him like the snow in the forest. Walls of it. But he wasn’t going to allow it to suffocate him. He had nothing to hide. Not really. Not anymore.
Casey flashed his eyes back on Sebastian. “A little.”
“What do you think?”
“Does it matter what I think?”
“Yes.” Sebastian waited, thinking. He hadn’t lied. Casey’s opinion of him counted a great deal. “Yes,” he repeated with a firm nod and renewed conviction to his voice.
“I think they were unfair to you. If what they said was true, then….”
“Then what?”
“Then you wouldn’t like me much, would you? I mean, I’m Latino. My biological dad’s parents are from Ecuador and my mom’s from Mexico. And you’re such good friends with Brother Eusebius and so kind and considerate to Brother Rodel when others grow tired of his bashfulness.”
Casey’s gentle and naïve words pleased Sebastian. He never worried much about how the outside world judged him. It was when his colleagues had abandoned him that he’d hurt the most. Even his family had shown unease whenever he’d come around after the “scandal.” Sure, they’d comforted him, insisted they didn’t believe the news reports. But having him gone had been easier for them just as much as for himself, hadn’t it?
“Whatever happened to proving guilt?” Casey said.
“It doesn’t always work that way.”
Casey shook his head. “Who are they to think they can do that? People always see so much ugliness in human souls. Why do they always have to assume everyone but them is evil? Why can’t they accept that people make mistakes?”
“You mean like with JC?”
Casey flinched, and Sebastian could see through his mittens that he clutched his ski poles tighter. “I saw how you were with him,” Casey said. “You liked him too. You couldn’t be all those horrible things they said about you. You were kind to JC, treated him like a brother.” Casey eyed his snowshoes. “Better than I treated him.”
Sebastian sighed toward the white ground. “Some people need angels and devils more tangible than ours here at Mt. Ouray. It doesn’t hurt to sell a few more newspapers and win the ratings war along the way.”
“They’re bullies, that’s what they are.”
“Don’t let it get to you.”
“I find it condescending.”
“So do I.”
“But how? You’re not like me. You’re white.”
He wanted to shout he was like him. Shouldn’t they both state it outright? No one would hear but Delores and the birds and the trees. He knew Casey had to be. Certainly Casey had pegged him. After that time in the shower, they had de facto, literally and figuratively, exposed the truth to each other. Why continue the pretense? Why not shout with the full thrust of their lungs: �
�I’m gay!”
Sebastian shuffled closer to him, balancing himself above the snow with the ski poles. “I never liked JC the way some of the others did, not in that sense.”
Another deeper flush streaked Casey’s face. “I grew to realize maybe you didn’t. I’m glad.”
Sweet tunes from the sparrows enhanced the splendor of Casey’s words. Sebastian cocked his ears toward the birds’ crooning, wanting to lose himself in their airiness. Delores puffed billowy breath by his side. He stroked her muzzle. Should he mention what had happened between them in the shower room? Best to let it wash away. What was there to say, anyway?
Instead, he asked, “Why did you choose life inside a monastery, Casey?”
Casey shrugged. “Why do any of us? Always intrigued, I guess.” He snickered. “When I was a kid, for fun I used to watch Mass for shut-ins on TV.”
Sebastian shared his laughter. “I envied the other altar boys who got to hold the Communion paten under people’s chins.”
The fluttering birds carried away their chuckles. Sebastian said, “Are you glad of your decision?”
“Yes.”
“Do you ever worry you might not preserve?”
“I used to think about it all the time, but not so much now.”
Sebastian smiled at his candor. “I suppose I worry sometimes.”
Casey’s eyes widened. “But don’t you want to profess?”
“Even couples on the verge of marriage wonder if they’ve chosen the right mate.” Sebastian tried to chuckle again, but this time his throat constricted. “We’re only human.”
The Rule of Sebastian Page 17