by Donna Raider
“I doubt she supports abortion,” Archbishop Karole Kinndle said. “The woman has thirteen or fourteen children.”
“I’ve heard her speak many times,” Bishop Sánchez added. “I have never heard her condone abortion. Although she is a definite proponent of individual rights. She feels everyone has the right to decide what is best for them. She is a powerful speaker and says God is all about free will.”
“Regardless,” Abusir stopped the comments, “Cross is a danger to us and the church. She must be stopped.”
Silence fell on the group. “What do you mean by stopped?” Archbishop Karole Kinndle asked. “I in no way condone murder. Cross is a fine Christian woman. She has done nothing but good in this world. While I don’t agree with all her ideas, I do agree with her right to express them.”
A mumble of agreement went through the group.
“Of course I in no way condone murder.” Abusir seemed shocked that anyone would think he did. “I simply mean we need to send her back to America.”
Everyone nodded agreement except Bishop Sánchez. “What is the harm of letting her speak with the Pope?”
“She might sway the Holy Father,” Abusir hissed. “Make him agree with her views on celibacy.”
“When a Pope is sent to us,” Archbishop Kinndle argued, “we have always believed that he will bring God’s word to us. Therefore, whatever decisions the Pope makes, we must accept as the decisions of God. Do you no longer believe this?”
Mika liked Archbishop Karole Kinndle and Bishop Sánchez. She wondered how they had been sucked into this group.
Abusir was obviously furious that anyone would disagree with him. “If you don’t agree with us,” he said, glaring at Kinndle and Sánchez, “perhaps you should leave now.”
Archbishop Kinndle and Bishop Sánchez excused themselves and left the room.
“As I was saying,” Abusir began, “we must rid ourselves of Cross immediately.”
Mika left the room and sought Kinndle and Sánchez. She wanted to listen to the religious leaders’ conversation.
“You know we just made a bitter enemy.” The archbishop spoke softly to Bishop Sánchez. “We are now on their list of people to be destroyed.”
“I think we should speak with the Pope,” Sánchez insisted.
“How do we do that?” Kinndle frowned. “The only way to get to the Pope is through Abusir. You know he won’t allow it.”
“Do you trust Father Ramone?” Sánchez asked.
“Yes, but even he communicates with the Pope through Abusir.” The archbishop wrinkled his forehead as he thought of ways to speak with the Pope. “The luncheon today. Maybe one of us can distract Abusir while the other talks to the Holy Father.”
Mika fought the sick feeling welling up inside her. She had fought wars, demons, and crooked politicians without flinching. The knowledge of the depth of corruption within the church sickened her. She knew she had to speak with the Pope, even if it meant exposing who she truly was.
She returned to the ten traitors meeting with Abusir.
“We are all in agreement, then,” Abusir was quietly addressing the group. “If the vote goes against celibacy, the Pope must be killed before he can give the permission for priests to marry.”
Everyone in the room nodded their heads in agreement.
“We must find a way to discredit Father Ramone and put one of our own over security.” Abusir looked around the room. “I have someone in mind for that position.
“We have lost face due to the scathing dressing down the Pope gave us in his Christmas greeting. We do not want further public humiliation from him.”
##
Mika watched outside the Pope’s quarters until she was certain he was alone. She entered the apartment. Seeing the Pope nowhere in sight, she materialized by the entrance to the apartment so it would appear she had just entered.
The Pope walked out of his bedroom. “Holy Father,” Mika said, bowing slightly, “it is so good to see you.”
“Mika,” the Pope greeted her warmly. “I have been concerned that you have not responded to my request to meet.”
“Holy Father,” Mika said, frowning, “you are surrounded by those who would undercut your authority. I have been here over two months and have been prevented from seeing you by Monsignor Abusir.”
“My personal secretary,” the Pope gasped. “Tell me what you have discovered.”
Mika relayed what she had observed in the meeting and described how Archbishop Kinndle and Bishop Sánchez had stood up against the others and now feared for their lives.
“Can I trust Father Ramone?” the Pope questioned the loyalty of his head of security.
“Yes, Holy Father.” Mika nodded. “But he, too fears Abusir.”
“I suspected this.” The Pope sat down at his desk and appeared to be deep in thought. He pushed a note pad toward Mika. “Can you give me the names of the other ten men in the meeting with Abusir?”
Mika wrote the names on the pad, then pushed it back to the Pope. “Cardinal Weaslen is particularly insidious,” she informed the Pope.
The Pope studied the names on the list. Cardinals, bishops, archbishops, and an apostolic nuncio were written in the young priest’s impeccable calligraphic handwriting.
Cardinal Weaslen
Bishop Travail
Bishop Steinhoff
Bishop Franken
Bishop Reid
Archbishop Fredrick Braun, Iraq Apostolic Nuncio
Cardinal Victor Sergio
Bishop Armand Baptiste
Bishop Luis Fernando Vargas
Archbishop Norman Pelosi
“Thank you for your concern.” The Pope smiled. “This will be addressed. Now, tell me about all the trouble you are stirring up in America with your celibacy crusade.”
Mika and the Pope visited for over an hour, then prayed.
The Pope summoned Abusir. “Look who I finally found.” The Pope smiled as his secretary entered the room. “Mika will join us for lunch. If you will make the arrangements, we’re going for a stroll before dining.”
“Yes, Your Holiness.” Abusir returned to his office as Mika and the Pope began their walk. At the office of Security, the Pope entered with Mika behind him.
“Holy Father,” Father Ramone gleefully greeted the Pope. “Mika, I have been instructed to take you into custody and put you on the first plane to America.”
“On whose authority?” the Pope asked.
“Yours.” Father Ramone smiled slightly. “Father Abusir gave me your instructions this morning.”
The Pope quickly explained what Mika had told him. Father Ramone shook his head in understanding. He had long been suspicious of Father Abusir.
“We are going to a luncheon now,” the Pope said, smiling. “I would like you and six of your men to join me. I also want two of your best officers with me at all times until this is resolved.”
Father Ramone quickly made a phone call and the sound of men gathering outside his door could be heard.
The Pope handed Father Ramone the list Mika had made. “This is the list of men who are involved in this covert activity. I trust you will take care of the matter.” The Pope had added one more name: Monsignor Yiannis Abusir.
“Gladly, Your Holiness.” Father Ramone bent and kissed the ring offered him by the Holy Father.
The luncheon was a large, formal affair with dignitaries and church officials in attendance. A few international news teams had been allowed to observe. They had been informed that they could not ask questions of anyone. At the end of the meal, the Pope stood to address the diners.
“I’m certain that some of you are aware of the contention Priest Mika Cross has stirred up in our church.” A soft murmur went around the table. The Pope continued, “Mika and I have been in constant contact on this matter and she has my blessings. While I have informed her I won’t make immediate, sweeping changes in our disciplines, I do want open, honest discussion of the matter. I feel that we will draw m
any wonderful men and women like Priest Mika to us if we discard celibacy from our requirements for priests. I feel it might also cut down on the number of undesirable men we draw to us. Let us pray.”
The Pope asked Mika to spend the afternoon with him. The security team sat right inside the Pope’s room.
“Come.” The Pope motioned Mika to follow him onto the terrace, where two glasses and a bottle of wine were waiting for them.
They talked for hours, discussing theology, history, translations of the Bible, and God’s word. The Pope had long ago developed a deep regard for Mika’s knowledge of ancient history and the Bible. On many occasions, the young priest had triggered a papal epiphany concerning things in the Bible.
Mika glanced at her watch. She knew Leah would be worried about her but needed to spend this time with the Pope. There were things God wanted her to clarify for the leader of the Christian world.
That same day, Father Ramone overnighted the list, written in Priest Mika Cross’s beautiful calligraphy, to a post office box in New York City.
##
By the time Leah finished shooting for the day, she was seriously worried about her wife. Mika had left early that morning with a promise to see her for lunch. Now it was two in the morning and she was not home. Leah made a cup of hot chocolate and carried it back to bed.
She had a new script. She tried to concentrate on it. Nothing could take her mind off her wife and the cold, empty bed beside her. She laid her head on Mika’s pillow. The scent of Mika teased her, aroused her, making her miss Mika even more.
Leah dozed fitfully, Mika’s face slipping in and out of her dreams. They were walking toward Joe’s and it started to rain. They were holding hands, laughing, running to get under the awning. Mika took her handkerchief from her pocket and raised it to dry the rain from Leah’s face. Scrutinizing Leah’s face with the most intense look, she slipped her handkerchief back into her coat and softly kissed the rain from Leah’s face. Leah had never felt so loved. The kisses were soft and warm. So gentle. So real. Tears squeezed between her eyelids as she awoke and realized she was dreaming. Her eyes fluttered open slowly when she felt her wife’s warm lips kissing the tears from her cheeks.
No words were needed. She pulled Mika into her arms and loved her. “I have missed you so much,” Leah whispered as she peppered Mika’s face with kisses. “I love you a million times more than I did the day we married.”
They made love as if they had never touched each other before. Mika’s angel and Leah’s magic combined to produce the most exquisite feelings imaginable. Leah’s softness and Mika’s strength complemented each other as Leah pushed harder against her and Mika wrapped Leah in her arms, feeling every soft curve of her, inhaling every exciting scent of her. Mika levitated them so they moved and rolled with no earthly restrictions. She clutched Leah to her as if she were the most precious thing on Earth. To Mika, she was.
##
Later, Leah cradled Mika’s head against her breasts as she related the disturbing events that had taken place at the Vatican. She told Leah the names on the list she had given the Pope. They always shared everything with each other. There was no room for secrets in a good marriage.
##
Detective Carlie Carlyle read the report again. Damn Catholics, she thought. Although she was catholic, she cursed that members of the church had been the bane of her existence lately.
First the prostitute, then the pedophile, now the bishop’s wife. She had interviewed anyone that had ever spoken to the woman, and everyone had good things to say about her. She was kind, considerate, beautiful, and a faithful wife. Parish members loved her. She was always right by the bishop’s side when he tended to church members’ needs.
She and the bishop had the perfect marriage. He doted on her and she was crazy about him. An intense investigation of her body had shown no trauma, no signs of struggle and no marks. Vaginal fluids had been diminished, but mostly proved the DNA found there belonged to the bishop.
“We had sex before I left for the church,” he had explained in an embarrassed tone. “I had been out of town for a week, and we…”
“It’s okay, sir,” Carlie had consoled him, “you don’t have to justify having relations with your wife.”
Carlie had walked almost every mile of the road to the Hamptons trying to find where the car might have run off the road. She couldn’t find a track, skinned-up rocks or dirt. Nothing. It was obvious the current had carried the car downstream, making it impossible to ascertain where it had gone into the water.
Most cases didn’t haunt her like these. She had started referring to them as The Catholic Murders. Although she had no reason to suspect Janet Cantrell’s death was murder, she just knew it was. She called it her gut reaction.
She picked up the latest note she had received on the pedophile priest. He was in the hospital. It seemed his dance card had been filled by several inmates before he was moved to intensive care. Prognosis: may or may not live. Not that she really cared. The sick bastard had gotten what he deserved.
Then there was Leah Redman. Gorgeous Leah Redman. Her thoughts and dreams were filled with the beautiful actress. Jennifer had begun to complain about her lack of interest. She knew she had to shake her obsession with Leah or she was going to lose her significant other.
She recalled how distraught the lovely actress had been yesterday, when her wife had failed to show up at lunch. She had paced the floor and called Mika’s phone every five minutes. When she wasn’t calling, she was texting. Her state of mind went perfectly with the episode they were filming. The actress would probably win another Emmy for this episode. It showed her worried out of her mind because Trey’s priest had disappeared, and ended with the Christmas party where “the kiss” happened. Leah had watched the kiss repeatedly in the viewing room, as if reliving the feel of it. Carlie had to leave the room.
She had insisted on driving Leah home when her wife still hadn’t shown up at five. Carlie wondered if something had happened to the priest. She had never known Mika to miss a meeting with her wife.
A tiny part of her—the part of her that obsessed about Leah—hoped. The good part of her—the part that made her a great detective—shuddered at the thought.
Leah had insisted that she join her family for dinner. As always, dinner had been a very enjoyable affair. The children reported on their day. The actress reported on hers. Carlie had even given a brief synopsis of her day. Everyone laughed and shared experiences. Carlie knew she could love a life like this.
“Where’s Mika?” eight-year-old Hannah asked as dessert was being served.
“She’s still at work.” Their mother smiled, trying to hide her concern. “Mika’s meetings are very intense right now.”
“Mika comes home. We play horsey,” the three-year-old twins chorused.
“Mommy would like that.” Leah grinned mischievously.
Carlie knew Leah and her twins weren’t thinking the same thing when it came to playing horsey with Mika.
The older children and nannies had helped the younger children with their homework and then prepared for bed. Leah invited Carlie to her apartment for a nightcap.
Leah told her that she knew little about the Cantrells. She and Mika had only gone to dinner with them twice, and they had always been delightful.
“We don’t invite many people into our home,” Leah admitted. “Our lifestyle is a little opulent for a priest. We try to keep it private that Mika is married to an actress.”
##
In her office the next morning, Carlie surveyed the penthouse floor plans for the hundredth time. She knew from the background checks she had run that Cross Towers had been in the Cross family long before Leah had become a successful actress. The family wealth had little to do with the large income generated by the actress.
Snapped back to the present by the ringing of another’s phone, Carlie read the report again then called Mika Cross. Mika’s secretary informed her the priest wasn’t there. Carlie
briefly hoped she was still missing. She decided to go to the studio. She knew Leah would be on the set, finishing the Christmas episode.
On her way to her car, she pulled out her phone and called the ME’s office. “Carlie here,” she informed her friend. “I hate to ask you to do this, but would you do a complete autopsy on Janet Cantrell? Yeah, top to bottom. Yes, I know CSI declared it an accident. I know how busy you are. This is important. Please.”
##
The young doctor took Father Williams’s pulse. It was strong. Although the man was extremely weak, there was no chance the pedophile would die from the prison gang rape he had lived through.
The doctor smiled as he thumped the vein in the old priest’s wrist and watched it rise to the surface as if eager to be stuck or cut. Father Williams’s eyes followed his every movement, hoping for more morphine to help him forget.
“Do you know me?” the doctor asked, smiling. “Some people call me the Watcher. Others call me the Grim Reaper.”
The doctor held the priest’s left arm tightly so the pedophile could see what was happening. Smiling, the doctor pulled a scalpel from his pocket and expertly sliced the priest’s radial artery. He laid the priest’s arm across his stomach and placed the scalpel in his right hand, laying it to rest next to the bleeding wrist. By the time the monitoring devices connected to the priest went off, Watcher was long gone.
Light faded from the priest’s eyes as he watched the blood flow from his wrist and stain the white sheets. He wondered what people would think. Perhaps it was better this way.
##
Carlie spotted Mika in her usual hiding place to the side of the set. She stealthily moved to stand beside her.
“I’m glad to see you made it home safely,” she whispered as Stiles gave Trey directions on how to play a scene.
“Thank you.” Mika smiled.
“Can we go somewhere to talk?” Carlie asked.
Mika nodded then led her to Leah’s immaculate dressing room.
“Can you think of anything that might help me on the Janet Cantrell case?” Carlie was desperately looking for anything.
