In the Name of the Father

by Gerri Hill

  “As I told you once before, don’t think I won’t go to the media.”

  “And as I told you, Hunter, don’t even try to threaten me. This is way over your head.”

  Casey stood up. “Will you two knock it off?” She paced the room. “Think about it. A very nice grandmother just got killed because she knew something, because she was about to talk to us.” She looked at Marissa. “Where does it end? Who else knows something? Who else is in danger?”

  “You’re being overly dramatic, Detective.”

  “Am I? Then whose goddamn name was left off the list?”

  “I told you I don’t know.” Marissa shifted in her chair. “I was told they came up with twenty or so names of who they thought could have been in the rectory in the last month. And why do you assume a name was left off? If the thirteenth print is indeed the killer’s, why would you believe the church would know it anyway?”

  Tori’s laugh was humorless. “Come on, Goddard. It’s not the killer’s. Hidalgo is the killer, remember. The thirteenth print belongs to his lover.”

  “Again, Hunter, it’s just one big circle. You already know who Father Michael’s killer was. Why is it so important that you know who his lover was?”

  Tori smiled. “Don’t you mean alleged lover?”

  “Of course.”

  “And it’s important because the lover could be the one responsible for the murders.”

  “Or the lover could be next on the list,” Casey added.

  Marissa shook her head. “You two are crazy.” She held up her hands. “What list? You think there’s a hit list or something? Jesus Christ, a priest was murdered,” she shouted. “That’s it. End of story. There’s no hit list. There’s no revenge. Juan Hidalgo killed Father Michael. Period.”

  Casey stared at her. “But why?” she asked quietly. “Why would he kill him?”

  “Who knows? Maybe he just didn’t like him.”

  “So who killed Juan?” Casey pressed her.

  “Not my problem, O’Connor. Yours.”

  Casey smiled. “Well, technically, it’s Hunter’s problem,” she said, tossing a glance at Tori. “I’m just kinda tagging along.” She leaned over Marissa’s desk, resting her palms on the glass. “Don’t you care even a little bit? Don’t you care that Alice Hagen got killed this morning? Don’t you want to know why?”

  Marissa looked at them and Tori saw a moment of weakness there, a moment of indecision, then nothing but indifference as the mask slipped back into place.

  “It’s not my job to care, Detective. And no, I don’t want to know why.”

  “Damn.” Casey straightened to her full height. “Are you even human?” She didn’t wait for an answer. She walked toward the door, then paused. “Come on, Hunter. We’re wasting our time here.”

  “When will I get the reports on Mrs. Hagen?” Marissa called as they headed out.

  Tori turned back around. “Not our problem.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Tori walked into their apartment, surprised that Sam beat her home. The smell of Chinese food greeted her and she went into the kitchen, inspecting the containers on the counter.

  “Is that you?” Sam called from the bedroom.

  Tori smiled. “Who else have you given a key to?” she asked as she opened one of the containers.

  “Stay out of the shrimp,” Sam warned her.

  Tori popped one into her mouth before closing the box again. “Okay.” Delicious. She opened the fridge and pulled out the bottle of wine they’d started last evening. She uncorked it easily and filled two glasses, then went in search of Sam. Stopping in the doorway of their bedroom, she watched as Sam tossed clothes into the nearly full piece of luggage that lay on the bed.

  “Thanks,” Sam said, reaching for the wine. “I need this. I need lots of this.”

  “Taking a lot of clothes,” Tori observed.

  “I’m sure we’ll have a chance to do laundry at some point, I just want to have enough for the first week.” Sam clinked her glass with Tori’s. “You’re going to be okay, aren’t you?”

  “Sure. In fact, I already have a date for Saturday.” Tori nodded, not sure at all.

  Sam smiled. “Good. On the boat?”

  “Yeah. I asked O’Connor. Turns out she likes to fish.”

  “Wonderful. It would do you good to make a new friend.” Sam took a sip of her wine.

  “Yeah. She’s all right.”

  “So how did it go today?”

  Tori looked away. “It sucked. Alice Hagen, we found her dead this morning.”

  “Oh, my God. What happened?”

  “Shot.”

  “Oh, no.” Sam’s eyes widened. “Surely they won’t close the case now?”

  “We haven’t heard otherwise. Malone said they were still going to make an official announcement by Friday. Case closed.”

  “I just can’t believe it. I guess short of the bishop getting killed, these murders aren’t going to be linked.” Sam sighed. “I’m sorry, Tori. I feel so terrible about Mrs. Hagen.”

  “I know. It was quite a shock.” Tori glanced at the pile of clothes Sam had packed. A lot of clothes. “You’re coming back, right?” She intended the question as a joke, of course. But the words hung in the room as they stared at each other.

  Sam’s eyes softened. “You know, I was thinking,” she said as she took Tori’s wineglass from her. “While I’m gone, maybe you could clean out your apartment. Bring whatever you want to keep over here.”

  “You were thinking that, huh?”

  Sam slipped her hands under Tori’s sweater, caressing her sides. “You don’t need it anymore,” she said softly. “This is home now. With me. So, yes, I’m coming back.”

  Tori closed her eyes. “I’m scared,” she whispered.

  “I know. But you don’t need to be. You don’t ever need to be scared again.” Sam moved her lips across Tori’s face and Tori trembled as Sam’s hands slid higher, resting just below Tori’s breasts. “This is home,” she said again. “And I’ll be back before you know it.”

  Tori opened her eyes, finding Sam’s. “I don’t want you to go.”

  “And I would do anything to stay.” She cupped Tori’s breasts, which made Tori gasp. “I love you. And you love me. And that’s all that matters.”

  “Yes,” Tori whispered.

  She pulled Sam to her, flush against her body as their mouths met. No matter how many months passed, no matter how many times they touched, how many times they made love, the intensity was still there, the want—the need—was still there. And her body trembled as it always did when Sam’s soft hands moved across her skin.

  “Make love to me,” Sam murmured against her lips. “Would you please?”

  Unceremoniously, Tori tossed the luggage to the floor, pulling Sam with her to the bed. She slid Sam’s shirt up, exposing her small breasts. She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them. “I love you,” she whispered as her mouth found Sam’s swollen nipple.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Casey slammed the phone down. “Damn, but that woman is hot. There’s just something about her. She’s got that angry, sarcastic tone this morning, you know.”

  “Does she have any other tone?” Tori asked, surprised at how comfortable she felt having Casey occupy Sam’s old desk.

  “Don’t you think she’s hot?”

  Tori shuddered. “I do not think Marissa Goddard is hot, no.”

  “She could make a grown man cry.” Casey grinned. “Wonder what she’d do to a woman?”

  “Do you really want to find out?”

  Casey wiggled her eyebrows. “Yeah. I really want to find out.”

  Tori leaned forward. “She’s scary.”

  “Yeah, but—”

  “Hey, you two, get in here,” Malone called from his doorway. “Sikes, you too.”

  “What do you think is going on?” Casey whispered.

  “It’s Friday. Deadline day.”

  “But I’m still working on Maris
sa.”

  “Well, you should’ve worked faster.”

  “Come on, ladies,” Sikes said. “Let’s get this over with.”

  “Did Mac get anything at the Hagens’ house?” Casey asked.

  “Clean. No usable prints.”

  “We can’t catch a break on anything, can we?” Tori said.

  “Sit down, people,” Malone said. “This won’t take long.”

  Tori took a seat. “They’re actually closing it?”

  “Yeah, Hunter, they’re closing it. And Marissa Goddard gets the privilege of making the announcement. I hear the chief is going to make a statement as well,” he said matter-of-factly as he tidied some papers on his desk. “It has been proven that Juan Hidalgo murdered Father Michael. Cause of death was strangulation.”

  “What about Hidalgo’s murder?” Sikes asked. “I still have no leads there.”

  Malone sighed. “Hidalgo’s murder is a separate case and has no bearing on this one. There is no physical evidence to link the two.”

  “And Alice Hagen?” Tori asked.

  “Alice Hagen has no link to Father Michael.”

  “Ballistic evidence shows it was the same gun, Lieutenant. How the hell can they ignore that?”

  “As I said, Hunter, there is no physical evidence to link Alice Hagen to Father Michael. Juan Hidalgo is not a part of the equation.”

  “The hell he’s not,” Tori said furiously. “How can you go along with a goddamn cover-up?”

  Malone pounded his fist on his desk. “Do not use that word, Hunter. I am following orders, just like you are going to follow orders. Now the case is closed. Period.”

  “But what about—”

  “Hunter, please, it’s out of my hands. Don’t you think I’d do something if I could?”

  “It makes no goddamn sense.”

  “I know it makes no goddamn sense, Hunter,” he said, his voice equally as loud as hers. “But we work the cases that are given to us.” He pointed at O’Connor. “Special Victims gets to close the case on Father Michael. We still have two open homicides here, Hunter.” He nodded. “We work what’s given to us.” He stared at them for a moment, waiting. “If there are no questions, I’d like to officially thank Detective O’Connor for her assistance in this case. I believe the chief will also address Special Victims’ involvement with it.” He tidied the papers on his desk one last time, then set them aside. “Hunter, if I could have a word with you,” he said as he dismissed Sikes and O’Connor.

  “Well, I’m going to split, guys. Can’t say it’s been fun.” Casey shook hands with Sikes. “I’ll expect an invite to the next poker party.” She glanced at Tori. “We still on for tomorrow, Hunter?”

  “Early. Come by the house.”

  Casey nodded. “Lieutenant, I’d say it’s been a pleasure, but frankly, this case sucked.”

  “Same here, O’Connor.” He waited until they were gone before eyeing Tori, speaking before she could. “It is what it is, Hunter.”

  She nodded. “I know.”

  He motioned toward the squad room. “She okay?”

  “O’Connor? Yeah, she’s good.” Tori smiled. “She talks too much.”

  “Her captain thinks highly of her. Off the record, Hunter, we’re all in agreement on this case, you know. But our hands are tied.”

  “I understand.”

  “No, you don’t. Hell, you don’t understand it anymore than I do. But nobody’s got answers for us.” He scowled. “This is bigger than just a murder. I know it and you know it. But it ends here.”

  “And if our investigation of the deaths of Hidalgo and Hagen shed light on it?”

  “Then we’ll just have to see how far they’ll go, won’t we.”

  Tori narrowed her eyes. “What do you know, Stan?”

  “I’m not stupid and neither are you. If the mayor’s office is involved, if the chief is involved, then it’s politics, plain and simple. I don’t know why, and I don’t know who’s trying to hide what, but it’s politics.”

  Tori nodded. Malone was just guessing. She knew it to be fact, but she wasn’t willing to break Sam’s confidence by sharing what she knew.

  “By the way, I hear Kennedy got shipped out.”

  “That’s one way of putting it. Three weeks. Gonna be kinda quiet around the house.”

  “You gonna be okay?”

  “Yeah. I mean, we talk on the phone. It’s not like we won’t communicate for three weeks.”

  “And O’Connor?”

  “What about her?”

  “New friend?”

  “Oh, you mean tomorrow? Yeah, she likes to fish. We’re going out to the boat.”

  Malone nodded. “Good, Hunter, good.” He laughed. “Because Sam told me to keep an eye on you.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Casey pulled the collar of her leather jacket tighter against her neck, trying to ward off the cold that had settled on the city. Apparently the few days of early spring were only a tease. She glanced skyward, wondering if they’d have to cancel their fishing trip.

  “Damn,” she whispered as a gust of wind hit her face.

  She jogged up the steps to the diocese, the door closing gently behind her as she shivered in the sudden warmth. She put on her most charming smile for the young woman behind the desk.

  “Where did this come from?” she asked, motioning out the window.

  “Well, it is still winter,” she said. “We might get freezing rain during the night.”

  “There goes my fishing trip,” Casey murmured. She tapped the desk lightly with her knuckle. “I’m Detective O’Connor with Special Victims. Any chance I can chat with Marissa Goddard?”

  “Oh, I’m sorry. She’s at the courthouse. They’re having a press conference.” She glanced at her watch. “Right now, in fact. And finally, we can let Father Michael rest in peace. This whole thing has just been awful.”

  “Yes. Awful for a lot of people.” Casey cleared her throat. “I’ll just catch up with her at her hotel then. She’s still at the Regency, right?” she asked casually.

  “Oh, no. She’s staying at the new Bentley Suites. I hear they’re so luxurious.”

  “Bentley, that’s right.” Casey handed over one of her cards. “If she happens to come back here, let her know I’m looking for her.”

  “Of course, but she didn’t act like she was coming back.” The receptionist smiled. “In fact, she mentioned something about getting a bottle of Scotch and ordering pizza in.”

  “Nice way to unwind.” Casey chuckled. “Thanks for your time. Try to stay warm now.”

  But the smile left her face as soon as she stepped back into the cold. It was too goddamn late to try to talk some sense into Marissa. She shook her head. Not that it would do any good. She pulled out her cell, dialing Tori as she hurried down the sidewalk to her car. She was surprised when she got voice mail.

  “Hunter, it’s me. I tried to catch Marissa at the church. No luck.” She paused. “I thought maybe we could stop this damn press conference.” She looked to the sky. “Well, I guess that’s that. And in case you haven’t heard, we’re going to freeze our asses off tomorrow.”

  She slipped her phone back into her jacket pocket, then unlocked her car from twenty paces away and made a dash for it.

  “Jesus,” she muttered when she slammed her door, still shivering from the cold. She sat with the heater on high for a few moments, trying to decide what to do. An idea came to her, and she grinned wickedly as she drove away.

  An hour and a half later, after Casey had talked the manager into letting her into Marissa’s suite, she placed the pizza on the small bar along with the bottle of Scotch she’d picked up. She sat in one of the comfortable chairs in the sitting area. She didn’t have to wait long.

  “Ms. Goddard, good to see you again,” she said evenly when the door opened. She was surprised at the composure Marissa maintained at finding her there.

  “What the hell are you doing here, O’Connor? Breaking and entering?”<
br />
  Casey pointed to the bar. “I brought you pizza.”

  “And Scotch? I see you’ve done your research.”

  Casey stood and leaned casually against the bar. “How did it go?”

  “How did what go?”

  “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

  “It went lovely, O’Connor. Just lovely.” She tossed her keys on the desk, along with her laptop. “In fact, it went so smoothly, I think the media here has lost interest in the case. There were hardly any questions.”

  “Well, you drag anything out long enough, there’s always some new crisis to take its place. But no questions about Alice Hagen? I’m astounded.”

  “There was one mention of her, actually. And your chief called it a terrible coincidence after what had just happened to Father Michael.” She smiled. “But I hear Homicide is on top of it.”

  “Oh, yeah. The evidence is just piling up,” Casey said sarcastically. “And how do you sleep nights?”

  “I sleep perfectly well, thank you.” She opened the bottle of Scotch and filled two tumblers. “I’m just doing my job, O’Connor.” She slid one glass across the bar toward Casey. “In fact, my job is done. I’ve got some paperwork to complete tomorrow, then I’m out of here.”

  “That’s quick. Hit and run, huh?”

  Marissa laughed. “My flight isn’t until Sunday night. Hit and run would get me out by noon tomorrow.” She took a generous swallow of the Scotch and closed her eyes. “Nice,” she murmured.

  Casey swirled the amber liquid around before taking a sip. She nodded. Smooth. She drank the rest of it before sliding the glass back down the bar toward Marissa. “This is goddamn wrong and you know it.”

  “What I know or don’t know is of no concern to you, O’Connor.” She refilled both glasses. “I’m paid to make problems go away.” She smiled as she slid the glass back to Casey. “Which was easy in this case, seeing as how both the mayor and the chief were willing to push the limits on what they controlled.” She drank again. “Amazing, really.”

  Casey took another swallow, this one smaller as she looked at Marissa over the rim of the glass. “Fucking amazing,” she said softly. “But what is everyone hiding, I wonder.”