The priest turned his gaze to Agnes and Nora. He wasn’t surprised to see they were staring at him.
“This leaves the State of New Hampshire on the hunt for an unknown serial killer with little to go on. Though the evidence suggests he’s dead, an ABP has been issued for James A. Moore.”
The room went silent. Father MacLeod assumed they were all lost in thought.
Mr. Lewis broke the silence. “Thank you, Chief—you may go now.”
The officer’s mouth dropped. “But, wait, I have my own questions—”
“—and I will answer them to the best of my ability in a few more days. Off the record, of course.”
The chief sighed. “Of course, off the record.”
“Again, thank you. Now please, see yourself out.”
Chief Rivera complied.
Father MacLeod addressed Mr. Lewis. “How did you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Dismiss that officer so easily? He’s not much of a cop that I can see.”
Mr. Lewis smiled. “Father, I think I had mentioned to you at our initial meeting that I am a large benefactor to the police force. I am very influential with the department when it comes matters that concern me. I will also point out, that man you proclaimed not much of a cop is my wife’s nephew.“
The priest grinned. “Ahh. How much does he know?”
The old man shook his head. “Not much. I’ll give him a few facts, make him feel he’s important, but nothing that’ll contradict our story. I have no pull, however, with the attorney general’s office—we’re on our own where they’re concerned.”
Agnes asked, “How about the Church? Will they intercede if the Attorney General pushes too hard?”
The priest nodded. “Yeah, they will. Let’s wait and see if it’s needed.”
“I have one last thing,” said Mr. Lewis. “The pawnshop owner asked about Celeste. He would like an update on her condition.”
Father MacLeod stood from the couch, stepping into the middle of the room. His left hand went to his chest, and he opened his fingers wide and placed them over his heart. “Celeste is still, for want of a better phrase, in a coma. She hasn’t moved on her own or spoken since she was brought to Haverhill. I’m doing everything I can for her. I perform the exorcism ritual daily, but there’s been no response. We keep her alive, and we pray. There is always hope. Before she absorbed the demon and took it to God-knows-where, she said it was up to me to bring her back. She believed there was a way for her return through the Church, through God, and through me. I won’t give up on her.”
The priest heard Nora restrain a sorrowful moan. Tears followed. Agnes had lowered her head but didn’t cry.
Catherine nodded, adding, “I’m proof it can be done.”
“Yes, it can be. To change this up, as you three ladies know, the Church will continue to employ you. As charitable as they project themselves to be, I would expect it to be indefinite. They want me to keep going with my work, no doubt because of the incident at the Moore house. You were my team, and I hope you’ll continue to be. What do you say? I don’t expect an answer right away. Take a few weeks to think about it.”
Agnes snickered. “A few weeks? That’s all?”
“I’m not asking you to come back to work in a few weeks; I only want your answer by then. If it’s yes, I see us working together once your injuries are healed—hopefully, in a couple of months.”
Nora shook her head. “No way. No way I’m going through that again.”
The priest nodded. “I understand, but please wait a couple weeks before giving me your answer.”
Catherine locked eyes with Agnes and Nora. A moment later she said, “Yes, give us a couple weeks. We need to discuss this.”
Father MacLeod grinned. “Okay then. I’d love to visit with you more, but I have an appointment back in the office. Thank you, Mr. Lewis, for calling this meeting, I’m grateful to be up to speed.”
“Ladies,” the priest continued, “I’ll be back in a few weeks to pick up where we left off.”
The three of them were silent.
Father MacLeod saw himself to the door. He was almost through when he stopped and poked his head back into the room. “Oh, and thanks for the scotch.” With a smile, he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.
He’d made this trip many times before. On the last, his mood had been jubilant. His team had just confirmed the Moore house wasn’t possessed, and he couldn’t contain his joy. Of course, the opposite had been true, but at the time he was blissfully unaware of it. He was as excited now as he’d been then. Pulling into the parking lot adjoining the old factory, the size of his grin was huge.
Father MacLeod smiled for the camera. The buzz sounded, and he slipped past the door into the waiting room.
The madame greeted him. “Hello, John! This is fortunate.”
He tilted his head. “What do you mean?”
The woman laughed. “I have a new girl for you. One I think you’re really going to like.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, John. She signed on with us two days ago. Her physical and blood work came back fine, and today’s her first day with us. In fact, if she’s to your liking, you’ll be her first customer.”
“Well, it doesn’t cost me anything to look, does it?”
The madame shook her head. “No, dear, looking is for free. Shall I bring her down?”
The priest nodded.
A few minutes passed before the madame stepped down the spiral staircase with her newest employee. On her heels was a woman: a familiar one, and he was momentarily taken aback. When they reached the bottom, the madame stepped aside and her employee posed for him. He knew the woman to be in her thirties but, almost naked as she was, he would’ve guessed she was ten years older. She was busty but plain-looking, average at best, and he thought if she were a wife, a man would be comfortable enough with her. His mind changed when she approached and they stood nose-to-nose. Her lips were curled into a cruel grin. Her pupils were enormous and black. They were cold, and her stare chilled him. No man could survive being married to her.
“Hello, Celeste.” He paused, then added, “Or whoever the hell you are. I will say I expected something, but not this.”
“Hello, Father MacLeod. You’ve broken some promises. You’re indebted. I hope you’re ready to pay.”
The priest took a step back. His eyes went wide, but then he returned her grin. He pulled his shirt collar to the side and slipped his hand down the front of his shirt. He removed it, clutching the necklace the pawnshop owner had loaned to Celeste.
“Actually, I am ready. And, I’m delighted you were the one sent. As for our bargain, Asmodeus is just going to have to wait a while longer.”
His free hand snaked out and he wrapped his fingers around the demon’s wrist. He let go of the necklace, letting it dangle from his neck. Digging into his back pocket, he removed his wallet and tossed it to the madame. “I don’t know how much time this will take. I’ll settle the bill when I’m done.”
A confused look on her face, the madame caught the wallet. “I’m not sure I understand what you two are talking about. Do you know each other?”
“Not intimately, no. But that’s going to change. I’m sorry to say, I am going to ruin her for anyone else.”
After a hesitant laugh, the madame replied, “Enjoy yourself, John.”
“Oh, I plan on it.”
He stood in one of the rooms in the bowels of his Haverhill office building. Having spent several hours at the brothel in Nashua, he was exhausted. Despite having trouble keeping his eyes open, he gazed down at the prone form of the woman tied to the bed. The restraints hadn’t been needed since she arrived, but he thought them prudent. She was so thin he worried her bones might break when and if she did come back.
A noise behind him jerked him to attention.
He turned to see Sister Bernice entering the room.
“There’
s been no change from this morning, Father. I did my best to make her comfortable. After you performed the rite again, I had prayed we’d see some change.”
He sighed. “I know, Sister. Were you by her side all day? Until this moment?
“Yes. I had my food brought down and made sure someone was present when I had to use the bathroom. I wasn’t out of the room more than three or four minutes, and that was in the early afternoon.”
He managed a weak smile. “Thank you, Sister—you can leave now.”
“Will you perform the exorcism ritual again tomorrow?”
The priest nodded. “Yes, of course.”
“Bless you, Father. You, know, we will get her back.”
He lowered his head, watching Celeste through half-open eyes. “I hope so.
Tony Tremblay is the author of The Seeds of Nightmares, a collection of his short stories from Crossroad Press that made the Bram Stoker Awards Recommended Reading List. The Seeds of Nightmares debuted at number two on the Amazon Hot Horror Chart and made the top twenty in the Amazon Horror sales listing. His horror and noir themed tales have been featured in anthologies, magazines, and websites on both sides of the Atlantic.
Tony is the host of The Taco Society Presents, a television show that features New England based horror and genre authors. In addition, he has worked as a reviewer of horror fiction for Cemetery Dance Magazine, Beware The Dark Magazine, and the Horror World Website.
He (along with John McIlveen and Scott Goudsward) founded NoCon, a horror convention held every September in Manchester, New Hampshire.
You can visit Tony at www.TonyTremblayAuthor.com and on Facebook under Tony Tremblay.
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