In the Name of the Father

by Gerri Hill

  Tori stared at him.

  “Unknown male,” Mac clarified. He flipped through the file. “Got thirteen usable prints from the rectory. We ran them all. Only Hidalgo’s came back with a hit.”

  “We’re going to try to get the names of people who would have had cause to be in there. Like the housekeeper, obviously. Normally we’d just get a warrant and print everyone so we could match them up. But with the mayor’s office involved, with CIU nosing around and now a goddammed consultant for the church, I’d say a warrant is going to be hard to come by.”

  “Consultant?”

  “Yeah. If I need to talk to someone at the church, I have to go through this consultant first. And if I get asked a question by the lovely—but irritating—Melissa Carter from Channel Five, I get to blow her off and tell her to hound the consultant instead.”

  Mac laughed. “Yeah, she’s a looker but I hear she’s a pain in the ass.”

  “That she is.” Tori let out a heavy sigh. “Okay, Mac, what else you got?”

  “Shoe prints were a size eleven. They were a match for a pair we found in Hidalgo’s apartment.” He shrugged. “Cause of death, strangulation. Murder weapon was the belt. Belt had Hidalgo’s prints on it.” He shrugged again. “Like I said, not much. Maybe matching the shoe print will be enough.”

  “He worked there. Wouldn’t be unusual for his shoe prints to be outside. Right?” She flipped through the Hidalgo file again. “And nothing at the scene? What about the fire escape?”

  “We got smudges, that’s all. Could be from anyone though. Having that window opened could have just been a decoy. There was no evidence of a forced entry. We can assume the killer entered and left the same way.”

  “Would the killer have had time to shoot and run before anyone saw him? Judging from all the people in the room, they came running as soon as they heard the shot.”

  “Look at it this way,” Mac said. “You shoot. Do you have time to open the window, get out, drop the ladder and head down before someone in the room sees you?”

  Tori nodded slowly. “You’re right. The fastest exit would have been the door. But if that’s the case, he wouldn’t have had time to open the window regardless.”

  “So maybe the window was open all along. Maybe Hidalgo always opened it.”

  Tori took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “So I’ve got a dead priest who we think Juan Hidalgo killed. And now we’ve got a dead Juan Hidalgo with absolutely no evidence as to who killed him.” She looked at Mac. “Any suggestions?”

  Mac shook his head. “Sorry, Hunter. But we did get four usable prints from inside the apartment that weren’t Hidalgo’s. No hits on them. And none of them match the unknown prints from the rectory.”

  “Well, I’ll have Sikes and Ramirez try to track down those four prints.” She stood. “Thanks, Mac.”

  “We’ll have full tox reports tomorrow. Something might turn up there.”

  “Yeah. Let me know.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Where have you been?” Sam hissed when Tori strolled nonchalantly into the squad room at eleven. She glanced quickly toward Malone’s office. “She’s like a piranha.”

  “Like I told you on the phone, she can kiss my ass. I don’t work for her.” Tori pulled out her chair with her foot, then tossed Sam the files. “Mac made copies for me. He’ll e-mail the final report, probably tomorrow.”

  Sam flipped through the pages. “Anything stand out?”

  “No, not really. Hidalgo’s blood alcohol level was well over the legal limit. Full tox wasn’t back. And the priest… no evidence of sexual trauma. And there’s DNA from a second male in his bed.”

  Sam looked up and met her eyes. “This case sucks,” she said quietly.

  “Hunter,” Malone yelled from his doorway. When Tori and Sam both turned, he stared at them, then held open his hands.

  “What the hell? We’ve been waiting for over an hour.”

  “I was at the lab.”

  He pointed down the hall. “Conference room. Now. Sikes? Ramirez? You too.”

  “Does he seem a little agitated?” Tori whispered.

  “I think he’s scared of her. She dissed him right in front of me and Sikes. Hell, I’m scared of her.”

  Malone took his seat at the head of the table. “Everyone’s already been introduced. Hunter, this is Marissa Goddard, from Boston.”

  Marissa smiled and nodded politely at Tori. “Detective Hunter, nice to finally meet you.” She looked at her watch. “You’re an hour late.”

  Tori stared at her, then slowly shoved the sleeve away from her own watch. “Actually, I’m quite early. The lab is never this prompt with their reports. I suppose the mayor’s office lit a fire under them. Shame all our victims aren’t priests.”

  Marissa leaned forward. “We’re not going to have a problem here, are we? Because I’m sensing a problem, Detective.”

  “Problem? The problem I have is having you in our squad room during a murder investigation.”

  “Hunter, chill,” Malone said before quickly glancing at Sam.

  Tori felt Sam’s hand on her thigh, giving her a squeeze. Tori tensed for a moment, then relaxed.

  Malone went on. “As I said earlier, Ms. Goddard will be involved in the details of the case. She will be speaking to the media on behalf of the diocese. The chief wants her in the know. What she does and does not tell them is of no concern of ours. Same with CIU.” He looked at Hunter. “Are we clear?”

  “I don’t feel comfortable sharing details of a case with a civilian, Lieutenant.”

  “Well, the chief doesn’t care what we feel comfortable with, Hunter.”

  “Civilian? I wouldn’t exactly call myself a civilian, Detective. We’re on the same team, after all.”

  Tori leaned forward. “People I don’t know don’t get to play on my team,” she said evenly. “And I don’t know you.”

  Marissa smiled. “Well, then we’ll just have to rectify that, won’t we.” She turned to Malone. “Shall we get on with it? I have another meeting in forty-five minutes.”

  Lieutenant Malone took a deep breath, and Tori saw the frustration on his face. “Okay, Hunter. I’ve already gone over the preliminaries with her. Why don’t you fill us all in on the lab reports? Did you bring copies?”

  She held up a file. “I’ve just got my copy. Everything on Hidalgo is being sent to Sikes and Ramirez. Mac didn’t have a full report from the rectory. There was a lot to process.” She glanced at Marissa Goddard, whose notebook was turned at an odd angle as she wrote in the normal hook-handed position of most left-handed people. “There were thirteen usable prints from the rectory. The only one they got a hit on was Hidalgo’s. His prints were on the lamp and the belt.”

  “And I understand strangulation by that very belt was the cause of death,” Marissa stated, looking up from her notes. “Should be a fairly easy case for you, Detective.”

  Before Tori could respond, John sat up straight, tapping the tabletop lightly with his perfectly manicured nails. “Circumstantial evidence without a motive is not what we would call an easy case, Ms. Goddard.” He smiled charmingly. “By the way, do you already have dinner plans? I’d be happy to introduce you to a good restaurant this evening.”

  Tori rolled her eyes and lightly bumped knees with John under the table. He never could pass up an opportunity to flirt with a pretty face, although she suspected Marissa Goddard had no interest in John Sikes.

  “Thank you, Detective, but no thanks.” She looked pointedly at Tori. “I read all the time about murders committed without motive. Surely that won’t have a bearing on this case?”

  Tori stared back into the unblinking green eyes. “The fact that there’s evidence of sexual activity, a struggle, a dead suspect—yes, a lack of motive definitely has a bearing.”

  “Detective, I believe alleged sexual activity would be the proper description. And I feel confident that sexual assault will be the finding, not consensual. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves h
ere.”

  Tori opened the file she was holding, trying to find her notes from Jackson’s post. She read aloud, “‘Rectal bleeding appears to be from recent intercourse. No fluids found. There was no trauma to indicate assault.’” She looked up. “Appears to be consensual.”

  Marissa smiled and clasped her hands together, resting her elbows on the table. “Appears, Detective. That’s the word you should be focusing on. Not fact, but opinion. Most likely your opinion.”

  “My opinion based on the findings of the M.E.” Tori was no dummy. Two could play at this game.

  Marissa waved her hand dismissively. “Which is why you are not speaking to the press, Detective.” She smiled again. “And regardless, I’m not certain what bearing that should have on your case.”

  “Ms. Goddard, if Father Michael was engaged in a sexual affair, we may now have motive,” Sam said. “Just because we think Hidalgo murdered him, just because we have circumstantial evidence to that effect, we can’t close the case and state emphatically that Hidalgo was the killer.”

  “Besides, Hidalgo is dead,” Ramirez said.

  “Your dead suspect does not concern me,” Marissa said.

  “Apparently, your dead priest doesn’t concern you much either,” Tori said as she closed her file and slapped it loudly on the table. “You’re more worried about damage control than find ing a killer.”

  “I do believe finding the killer is your job, not mine.”

  “Exactly. That’s why you don’t get to be on our team, and that’s why you shouldn’t even be in this goddamn room!” Tori said forcefully.

  Sam grabbed her thigh under the table the same instant John pressed his knee against hers.

  “Hunter, I swear,” Malone said with a shake of his head.

  “It’s okay, Lieutenant,” Marissa said as she slowly stood, gathering her papers. “I’ve heard enough for now.” Her glance traveled between Tori and Sam, then back at Sam. “Is she this passionate about everything, Samantha?”

  Tori tensed, but she kept quiet as she felt Sam’s grip tighten on her thigh.

  “Actually, yes, she is, Ms. Goddard.”

  Marissa raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Well, lucky you.” She stared at Tori for a moment, then pushed her chair away. At the door, she paused. “I’m not your enemy, Detective.” She smiled. “Which is probably a good thing. I’m sure you have plenty already.”

  The door closed behind her and Sam loosened her grip on Tori’s leg.

  “You know, I don’t think I like her very much,” Sam said seriously.

  The others laughed, then Malone pointed at John. “I can’t believe you asked her out, Sikes. What the hell were you thinking?”

  He shrugged. “She’s cute.”

  Tori nudged him. “I don’t think you’re her type, John.”

  John leaned around Tori and pointed at Sam. “Told you so. You owe me ten bucks.”

  Malone cleared his throat loudly. “Can we please get back to the task at hand?” He stared at Tori. “And you. Jesus Christ, Hunter, get over it already, will you. She’s here to stay. I don’t see the point in trying to piss her off.”

  “This is completely unorthodox, Lieutenant. She has no business knowing everything about our investigation.”

  “Don’t you think I know that, Hunter? Don’t you think I’ve already questioned it? And I was told to shut up and follow orders, which is what I’m telling you to do.”

  “Well, I want to know what the hell is going on. The church obviously suspects something or they wouldn’t be so concerned with controlling the press. It makes no goddamn sense.”

  “It makes perfect sense, Tori,” Sam said. “I don’t like it either, but it doesn’t necessarily mean they know something about Father Michael. The Dallas Diocese got dragged through the mud several years ago by that sexual abuse scandal. And then after the judge ordered that the files be made public, a lot of the attempted cover-up came out. You can’t blame them for trying to protect their reputation now.”

  “I agree with Kennedy,” Malone said. “And whether Father Michael was involved in an intimate affair or not, that’s not something that needs to be made public.” He looked around the room. “And we all know that eventually even the most sordid details will come out, despite their efforts to keep a lid on them. So let’s don’t worry about things we can’t control. I’m more interested in where we are with this case.”

  Tori sighed. “Mac found epithelia from two sources on the sheets in Father Michael’s bedroom. One was from Father Michael.” She stared at Malone. “The other, unknown male.”

  Malone drummed his fingers slowly on the tabletop as he stared at the ceiling. “Goddamn. Well, okay then. I guess I need to quit assuming Father Michael was a saint,” he said quietly. “Damn. I was really hoping—”

  “I’m sorry, Stan,” Tori said.

  “Yeah, well, I wanted to think it was assault just like Ms. Goddard there.” He cleared his throat. “And, Hunter, just because you kept this bit of information from her, don’t think she won’t find out about it. I’m fairly certain she’s on the list of persons to receive copies of the reports.”

  Frustrated, Tori shook her head. “Which is another reason she has no business being here. She’ll already knows as much as we do. Probably more.”

  “That goes without saying. Okay, back to this. So we’ll go with a sexual partner.” Malone looked around the room. “How do we find him?”

  “Thirteen sets of prints. One of them has got to be his,” John said.

  “That’s providing the diocese will let us print their priests so we can match them. And I wouldn’t hold your breath on that,” Tori said.

  “I think there’s an easier way,” Sam said. “The housekeeper. I think we need to pay her another visit.”

  “She was shocked when I asked her that question, Sam,” Tori reminded her. “In fact, I think she was insulted.”

  “Yeah. Maybe she was too shocked. I mean, if anyone would know about an affair, it would be the housekeeper.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “Did she mean what I thought she meant?” Sam asked Tori later that evening as they sat curled together on the sofa watching TV.

  “Hmm?”

  “Goddard. When she asked if you were passionate. Was she insinuating something?”

  Tori chuckled. “Yeah. I’d say she was insinuating.”

  Sam hit the mute button on the remote. “Do you think she’s gay?” she asked quietly, as if someone might overhear her question.

  Tori gave a wry smile. “Did you pay John the ten bucks you owed him for the bet?”

  Sam kissed Tori on the lips. “There’s nothing about her that would make me think she’s gay. How do you know?”

  “The same reason she knew about us.”

  “In other words, there’s no reason. You just know.”

  “Yeah. You just know.”

  “Do you think she’ll be a problem?”

  “About us or about this case?”

  Nervous about being outed, Sam sighed. “Both, I guess.”

  “I think it’s just crazy that she’s even here. A consulting firm? For a murder? It makes no sense.”

  “I guess they’re just trying to cover their bases. Put a positive spin on things before the media turns it into something ugly.” Sam stood, heading to the kitchen. “Want more wine?”

  “Sure. And it makes them look guilty.” Tori pointed at the TV. “And her little speech on the news tonight was just bullshit. ‘Preserve the sanctity’? What is she trying to do?”

  Sam smiled as she returned with the wine bottle, still a bit surprised at the instant animosity between Tori and Marissa Goddard. Of course, she shouldn’t be. Tori was never one to embrace strangers, never one to trust without cause.

  “What? You think I’m being ridiculous?” Tori asked.

  Sam wrapped her fingers around Tori’s arm and squeezed lightly. “No, sweetheart, not at all.”

  Tori laughed. “You do, don’t you?”


  “Oh, not ridiculous. I just think it’s a waste of time to dwell on it. As Malone said, she’s here whether we like it or not. We still have to do our job.”

  Tori met her eyes, smiling. “Yeah. But she’s obnoxious as hell.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Is this the place?”

  Sam looked at her notes, then nodded. “Yeah.” She pointed to an old blue truck. “Park there.”

  Tori pulled to the curb behind the truck, looking around Sam to the red brick, ranch-style home, much like all the others on the block. Years and years ago, this part of Dallas was probably considered an upscale neighborhood. Now—with the leaves gone from the trees, the grass turned a winter brown, the paint faded and chipped along the eaves—the houses looked old and worn. She imagined Alice Hagen’s husband wasn’t able to do much around the house. She’d said he had emphysema.

  Tori grabbed Sam’s arm, stopping her from opening her door. “You do the talking,” she said. “I’m not good with this stuff.”

  Sam smiled. “Of course. Although this will be my first time to accuse a priest of having an affair.”

  They got out and Tori said, “Yeah. But you’ll do it much more diplomatically than I would.” Tori paused at the front door, glancing at the flowerpots, the plants dead and brown, victims of the frost they’d had a couple of weeks ago.

  “Kinda unkempt,” Sam said. “After meeting with her—and her being a housekeeper—I would have expected something more pristine.”

  “Detective, are you being judgmental or just observant?”

  “Maybe just stereotyping.” Sam pushed the doorbell. “And just for the record, I’m not looking forward to this.”

  Tori leaned closer, her mouth just inches from Sam’s ear. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

  Just then the door cracked open. Sam smiled pleasantly at Alice Hagen. “Mrs. Hagen, so sorry to intrude on you like this, but we have a few more questions.” She gestured at Tori. “You remember Detective Hunter?”

  Tori nodded politely, trying to ignore the suspicious look the older woman gave her. She waited as Alice Hagen looked them over from behind the door before opening it fully.