by Amber West
“You had some visitors come by.”
“Oh?” I replied between sips.
“Emma, obviously, worried sick about you. And some of the women from the knitting circle checking to see if you needed anything.”
“And probably checking to see if I was hiding out in my place or yours,” I added with a laugh.
“Probably so,” Jack smiled in agreement.
“Anyone else?”
“Were you expecting anyone else?”
I shrugged, not wanting to reveal that I was.
Jack mirrored my shrug. “Not that I know of. But someone could have stopped by when I wasn’t around.”
I nodded, staying quiet. It pained me not to talk to Jack about everything going on in my head, but if I was going to stay, if I was going to figure out what was going on, I decided that I needed to do it without putting anyone else at risk. No matter how many lies I had to tell to make that happen.
Confession was going to be necessary after all.
Chapter 33
“Thanks for spending the morning with me, Emma.”
“Don’t be silly! I was happy you called. I’ve been so worried about you. That flu hit you something fierce.”
I nodded, grateful that Emma’s sweet simplicity kept her from suspecting that my time away was nothing more than a wicked stomach flu.
“I’m feeling a lot better, finally.” I looked at the huge doors to the church as we walked up the steps, taking a deep breath. “And I figured now that I feel better physically, I should get myself right the rest of the way.”
Emma giggled. “You’re funny.”
I smiled at Emma as we walked into the church. “Did you need to, you know, confess?”
“I came by a few days ago. But I can sit and wait for you. I don’t mind. It’s so beautiful and peaceful in here.”
Creepy, more like it, I thought, as I walked towards the front of the church.
“Jameson,” Father Mike’s voice made its way past the rows of pews, “it’s been a while. I’ve been concerned.”
“Thanks. I haven’t been well.”
“I heard.”
“But I’m doing much better. Physically anyhow. I was wondering if you were taking confessions today.”
“Of course, James. My doors are always open to you.” He quickly added, “To everyone.”
He held a hand out, directing me towards the confessional. “I won’t be long,” I called out to Emma, making sure Father Mike noticed I wasn’t alone.
I entered the confessional, closing the small door behind me. The designs on the screen, now all too familiar, matching the scarred over brand on my back, made my stomach churn. I leaned forward, my hand against the wall in front of me as I took a moment to regain my composure.
“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It has been, well, a while since my last confession. But not as long as last time.”
“You’re making progress.”
“I’m a quick study.”
“What’s on your mind, James?”
“I’ve been lying, Father.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been hiding things from people I care about.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Things that could get them hurt if I told them. Which is why I have to lie. But that leaves me conflicted.”
There was silence on the other side of the screen, then finally, a response. “Because lying is a sin, of course.”
“Right. It’s one of those, what did you call them, ‘ethical dilemmas’. Lying is a sin, but if by telling them the truth I brought harm to them, that feels like it would be a greater sin.”
“I see your dilemma.”
“So?”
“So what?”
“What’s the answer?”
“I’ve told you before, James, that isn’t really what confession is about.”
“But you’re supposed to, how does it go, shepherd the flock or whatever, right? I’m feeling conflicted, you should be offering words of comfort.”
I looked at the silhouette on the other side of the screen, the Father’s hand rubbing the side of his face. “If the truth would truly put those you love in danger, then withholding it is the right thing to do. That’s what I think.”
I nodded in agreement. “Me too. But I am glad you agree. So, does that apply to all kinds of sin?”
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“What if I had to do something else to protect someone? Something bigger than a lie?”
“More hypothetical situations? I’m happy to have discussions like this, but really, not in confession.”
Father Mike’s voice was strained. Something I said struck a nerve, which is what I was hoping for.
“You’re right, Mike. My bad.”
“Is there anything else you would like to confess, Jameson?”
“Nope. Three Hail Mary’s and I’m set?”
“Uh, yeah. I mean, give thanks to the Lord for He is good.”
“Got it. Mercy and all that jazz.”
I opened the door and tried not to smile as I walked towards Emma. Father Mike stepped out of the confessional, watching us leave without a word.
Chapter 34
“You sure you aren’t selling these too cheap?”
Jack picked up a black and white photo of a salt shaker, and gently placed it on the table next to the others. It was yet another weekend of activity, this one the town Arts and Crafts Bazaar. Jack encouraged me to join in by selling some of the photographs I took around town, and I had to admit, it wasn’t a bad idea.
“The frames and prints cost next to nothing. I’m not doing this for the money.”
“Are you still trying to get everyone to like you? ‘Cause I’m sure they’ve come around by now.”
“I’d like to be liked for more than being the Sheriff’s girlfriend.”
Jack stood behind me and wrapped an arm around my waist. “Is that a bad thing?”
I giggled, stopping at the sound of someone clearing their throat. Jack’s arm loosened but he remained close. “Morning, Father. Sisters.”
Two stern-faced nuns flanked Father Mike as they approached the table. The nuns gave a quick nod.
“Good morning, you two,” Mike said, looking at Jack, then at me as he picked a picture up from the table. “What do we have here?”
Jack answered, “James is a very talented photographer.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” I replied, smiling at Jack, grateful for the compliment.
“Modesty only begins with the knowledge of evil,” Mike mumbled.
“Excuse me?”
“You’re being too modest.” Mike turned to Jack, quickly abandoning the subject. “Jack, the sisters here could use a few able-bodied men to help them with some boxes. Would you mind?”
“Of course not.” Jack leaned over, kissing me on the cheek, never taking his eyes off of Father Mike. “I’m happy to help.”
As he started to walk off with the nuns, he called over his shoulder to Father Mike. “Aren’t you joining us?”
Mike smiled and placed a hand on his back. “Can’t. Sciatica.”
Jack glared at him, then returned his attention to the sisters.
“I’m glad you’re here, Mike. I have something for you.” I fished through a bag under the table and pulled out a large manila envelope. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“Photos. I put them together especially for you. Ones I thought you would appreciate.”
“That’s awfully kind of you, James. And I have to say, a bit unexpected.”
He stared at the envelope in his hands, eyebrow raised, and started to open it. I grabbed his hand quickly, causing him to jump.
“Not here. You should look at those later. Alone.”
He grinned. “That sounds a bit scandalous, Miss Quinn.”
I jerked my hand away. “You know, most people wouldn’t find that very funny coming from a priest. Or appropriate.”
; “You’re the one giving me an envelope full of secret photos.”
“I think maybe it’s been too long since you had to go to confession, Father. You need to get those thoughts in check.”
He laughed. “Maybe so.”
“Anyhow,” I took a breath, trying to push down my annoyance, “I’d love to know what you think of the photos once you’ve had a chance to look at them. Maybe we could grab lunch at the diner this week?”
Mike leaned his head to one side, forehead wrinkling. “Really?”
I nodded, trying to put on my sincerest smile. “Of course.”
“How about tomorrow, then? I’m sure I’ll have a chance to look over these tonight.”
“That’s perfect.”
He stared down at the envelope, then up at me. “Well, then, it’s a date.” Before I could respond, he quickly added, “You know what I mean. I’m not expecting a green sweater or anything.”
“James!” Emma came bounding up to the table, in her usual excited fashion. “Hello, Father. James, these look great. Aren’t her photos great, Father?”
He nodded as he stuffed the envelope inside his coat. “They’re lovely. And if you ladies will excuse me, I need to make the rounds.”
Father Mike walked away, a perplexed look on his face.
Emma leaned against the table, taking in a deep breath. “I love that smell.”
I nodded, breathing in the fresh air mingled with herbs and smoked meat. I looked over towards the church and watched the little columns of smoke swirling up to the sky, hoping that I knew what I was doing.
Chapter 35
“What’s wrong?”
I was sitting in Jack’s kitchen, sipping coffee, listening to him slam cabinet doors.
“I’m fine. Just looking for something.”
“Can I help?”
“Probably not. Missing a pocket knife. I can’t seem to find it anywhere.”
I grimaced. “Oh, sorry about that. I might know where that is.”
He paused, hands still on an open set of doors.
I dug in the pocket of my jeans and tossed the knife on the table. “I kinda borrowed it a while ago. Forgot to put it back.”
Jack grabbed his coffee and sat down at the table. “I don’t mind you borrowing things, but what did you need it for?”
“I used to carry mace with me when I lived in the city. I like feeling like I have something on me for protection.”
“Why didn’t you just ask, then? I wouldn’t have minded.”
I squirmed a bit. “I thought you’d worry if you knew I was carrying a knife with me.”
That wasn’t a total lie, I thought.
“I worry about you anyway. And I don’t think you need to carry a knife around with you, but if it makes you feel better, you can hang on to it.”
“Thanks,” I said, laying my hand on the knife.
“You still feeling unsafe?”
“Sometimes. I mean, we still don’t know who did this to me,” I replied, motioning to scars under my shirt.
“I’ve been giving that some thought. You know, maybe Andy got caught up in something with some out-of-towners. Maybe they thought you knew something, since you stitched him up and visited with him.”
“You think?”
He nodded. “It’s the only thing that makes any sense. You mentioned how cagey he was when you visited. Maybe he knew he was being watched. Anyhow, everyone else in town is accounted for that night.”
“You’ve been investigating?”
“Of course. Since it happened.”
I sat quietly, tapping my finger on the table. “So, my freaking out about Sister Marjorie?”
“Like I said, all accounted for. Father Mike too, sadly.”
“Sadly?”
Jack grinned. “I admit, I wouldn’t have minded finding a reason to throw a fist his way. He gets under my skin. He’s not very…”
“Very what?”
“Priestlike. Especially around you.”
I smiled. I agreed, but it was cute to know Jack noticed and was so protective. “Are you jealous of a priest, Jack?”
“Of course not.” He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms and puffing out his chest. “Clearly, I’ve nothing to worry about.”
“Clearly,” I said, getting up from the table and leaning in for a kiss. Jack smiled as I rumpled his hair before taking my empty cup to the sink.
“Are you sure you don’t want to run into town with me today?” Jack asked.
“You know I’d love that. But I have a few things I wanted to get done. And my place is a mess. I don’t need the landlord thinking I’m a pig, should he ever stop by.”
“You are pretty messy.”
I feigned offense, shutting off the kitchen sink and turning towards Jack, who followed me to the kitchen. “I guess you can wash your own dishes, then.”
Jack hooked his finger around a belt loop on my jeans, pulling me close, his lips barely an inch from mine. “James?”
“Yeah?”
“You have coffee breath.”
I buried my face in his chest, laughing. He slid his arms around me, setting his chin on top of my head. I leaned back and looked up at his face, trying unsuccessfully to look upset. He smiled and kissed the tip of my nose. “Dinner tonight?”
I nodded, smiling.
Jack broke away from the hug, grabbing his coat before opening the door. “Stay out of trouble, James.”
“I make no guarantees,” I called as the door shut.
Chapter 36
The usual clatter of dishes and silverware and the hum of conversation between patrons was nearly absent when I entered the diner.
“Hiya, James. To go or are you staying today?”
“I’ll be staying, Emma. Good thing, too. Have you seen the sky out there?”
Emma nodded. “People have been rushin’ to finish their food so they can get out before the storm sets in. You sure you don’t want to take your food to go?”
I scanned the restaurant, spotting Father Mike in the corner booth. “Thanks, but I actually promised Father Mike I’d have lunch with him.”
Emma eyes widened a bit. “Well, that would explain why he’s ordered nothin’ but tea since he got here. He shoulda just told me he was waitin’ on you. Head on back and I’ll be with you in a sec.”
“Father,” I said, as I slid into the curved corner booth.
“James.”
His mouth was pulled in a straight line, not a hint of the smirk he often had.
“You didn’t have to wait to order.”
“I don’t mind.” He took a long slow sip of tea, looking out the window. “Looks like we have a nasty storm coming in.”
Emma rushed up to the table. “Do ya’ll know what you want to eat?”
I nodded. “Can I get the grilled cheese, tomato soup, and onion rings? This weather makes me hungry.”
“And for you, Father?”
“A bowl of your chicken soup.”
“Really? That’s all?”
Father Mike looked up at Emma, his face serious and his tone terse. “Yes, that’s it.”
Emma took the menu from the table and nodded, her lips in a slight pout as she walked away.
“Someone is cranky today. You really shouldn’t take it out on that poor girl.”
I watched Father Mike’s jaw clench and unclench as he sat across from me.
“What are we doing here, exactly, Jameson?”
I shrugged, eyes wide, “What do you mean? I wanted to hear what you thought of the photos I gave you.”
Mike forced a chuckle and lowered his voice. “Don’t give me that act.”
He looked around the diner and slid further into the booth, jerking his head to the side, an invitation for me to do the same. I scooted further in, so we were sitting side by side rather than across from each other.
“What’s the deal with the photos? Why did you give them to me?”
“They’re pictures of your church. I don’t
see what you’re getting so bent out of shape about.”
Father Mike grabbed my wrist under the table, pinning it against the seat. “You know what pictures I mean.”
I stared at him, calm, wanting him to know that he couldn’t intimidate me, even if my insides were dancing. He stared back, waiting for an answer.
“Umm, here’s your food.”
Emma was standing in front of us, slowly placing our food on the table, frowning.
Mike’s hand slowly loosened, remaining hidden under the table, resting on top of my wrist.
I gave Emma what I hoped would be a reassuring smile. “Thanks, Emma. I’m starving.”
“Can I get you anything else?”
I looked at Father Mike, then up at Emma. “I think we’re good for a while here. We’ll yell if we need you.”
Emma pursed her lips, then relaxed them into a polite smile, nodding before she walked away.
I slid my captive hand out from under Mike’s hand and grabbed an onion ring. “You should really watch that temper, Father. It’s very unbecoming. Especially for a man of the cloth.”
“Are you enjoying this?”
I looked up, moving my head from one side to the other. “Just a little bit.”
He sat back in his chair, shaking his head. “How much of this do I have to deal with before you tell me what those pictures are really about?”
“Actually, I’m more interested in hearing what you have to tell me about the pictures.”
Father Mike rested his hand over his forehead, pressing his temples between his thumb and forefinger, before sliding his hand down over his mouth and staring.
I popped another onion ring in my mouth, then grabbed one and held it in front of him. “Want one? They’re really good today.”
He let out an exasperated snort, but took it. I started on my sandwich while he stared at the fried onion before popping it in his mouth, chewing slowly. The clouds outside continued to darken, driving the few locals left from the diner, until we were the sole patrons inside. Finally, he broke the silence with a steady, quiet voice.
“I don’t know anything about these pictures, Jameson. Honestly. I swear. Look at the date stamps. These were taken long before I came here.” I looked him in the eye, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth. For once, he looked sincere.
