In the Name of the Father

by Gerri Hill

  She sorted through the keys on her chain. “I don’t know what you hope to find here,” she said. “It’s just his personal things.”

  “My patience is wearing thin, Ms. Ames.”

  “Fine. Here’s the key. You open it.”

  “Jesus Christ,” Tori murmured as she ripped the key from her hand. She slipped it into the lock on the middle drawer, turning it until they heard the click of the bolt slipping back. But it wasn’t the middle drawer she opened. She pulled out the top drawer on the left, staring inside at the lavender-colored tube of lotion. She picked it up, eyebrows raised, then tossed it to Sikes.

  “Wow. Organic Lavender Hand Cream by Peaceful Herbs Farm. Imagine that.”

  “Yeah. Imagine.”

  “Shame we didn’t have a warrant,” he murmured.

  “It’s a special brand,” Susan said. “He orders it from California.”

  Sikes tossed it back into the drawer. “Now what?”

  Tori turned to Susan. “Where is he?”

  “I told you I don’t know. Like I said, if he’s ill, maybe he stayed home.”

  “And home is?”

  “He has one of the houses there, down past the rectory.”

  “Fine. You’re going to take us.”

  “Oh, I really need to get going.” Susan fidgeted. “I’m due at my mother’s for lunch. It’s a Sunday tradition.” Tori closed the drawer and locked it again, tossing the keys to Susan with a smile. “Gonna have to miss lunch, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh, I can’t. I’ve never missed Sunday lunch.”

  “Now, you really don’t want us to arrest you, do you?” Her eyes widened. “Arrest? Why?”

  “Oh, how about hindering a police investigation?” She shot a glance at Sikes. “Or failure to assist? That’s a good one.”

  “But I’ve—”

  “Come on, let’s go.” Tori flipped the light switch, then pulled the door closed. “Lock it up.”

  “What about O’Connor?” Sikes asked. “Call her again, would you?” She took Susan’s arm. “Marissa Goddard. She’s got an office here.”

  “Yes, it’s down the other hallway.”

  “Yes, I know. We might need your key for that one also,” she said, keeping Susan beside her with a firm grip on her elbow. “Just goes to voice mail,” Sikes said as he closed his phone. “I’m going to kill her.”

  “Well, you know, it’s Sunday. She’s allowed a day off.”

  “Well, we’re not taking the day off, are we?”

  “And technically, the case she was working on is closed,” he added. “Yeah? So I suppose she didn’t technically drag my ass out to West Texas in the middle of blizzard for that same closed case?”

  “She’s got a little bit of a renegade in her, doesn’t she?”

  “You think?”

  “No wonder you like her.” Tori stopped at Marissa’s door, but there was no need to use the key. It was unlocked. She frowned, seeing the laptop and purse, her cell phone beside it. She noticed the piece of paper tucked under the phone. It was from Casey. She handed it to John.

  “So she was here,” he said, handing the paper back to Tori.

  Tori stared at the desk, wondering what was going on. “Who would leave their phone and purse out like this? Either you take it with you or you put it in a drawer, right?” She touched the laptop. It was cold. “So O’Connor comes looking for her, finds it just like this and leaves her a note.” Tori looked at Sikes. “Makes no sense.”

  “What? The purse being out or O’Connor’s note?”

  “If O’Connor left a note for her to call, why isn’t her phone on?”

  “Maybe they hooked up, so she just turned it off,” he suggested.

  Tori stared at him. “Something’s not right.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Casey’s and Marissa’s eyes met as they watched Monsignor Bernard fall to his knees in the middle of the room, arms outstretched as he prayed, his murmured words too low for them to make out.

  “Any suggestions?” Casey murmured.

  “You’re the cop. You figure it out.”

  “Well, my main problem, besides being handcuffed, is that I don’t have a key for the cuffs.”

  “Figures.”

  Casey looked at the rope holding Marissa prisoner. “I’ll say this, he knows how to tie knots. There must be four or five of them.”

  “And don’t you have a knife or something tucked away?” she whispered.

  “What? You think I’m MacGyver or what?”

  Marissa frowned. “Who?”

  “You know, TV show back in the Eighties. MacGyver.”

  Marissa glared at her. “You want to talk TV shows? Now? Please say someone knows you’re here. Please say Hunter is coming.”

  Casey grinned. “I didn’t think you even liked Hunter.”

  Marissa flailed her arms, the skin reddening where the ropes cut into them. She finally stopped and shook her head. “Did I really sleep with you?”

  “Don’t you remember?” Casey wiggled her eyebrows. “You begged me to stay, if I remember correctly.”

  “I must have been out of my mind.”

  “No doubt.” Casey motioned to Bernard. “How long should we let him do that?”

  “He’s praying. Trying to cleanse his soul.”

  “Yeah? Well, we don’t have that long.” She cleared her throat. “Monsignor?” She waited, but he didn’t move, his voice still low and mumbled. “Monsignor Bernard?”

  His arms lowered, but his lips continued to move in prayer. Finally, he turned, his eyes clearly dazed, damp with tears.

  “Excuse me, but shouldn’t we do something?” Casey asked. “I mean, call the police, go after the mayor, something.”

  He struggled to get to his feet, grabbing onto the edge of the desk to pull himself up. He tugged at the sleeves of his robe, straightening them, then went to the window, opening it farther as beads of sweat dotted his brow. He leaned on the windowsill, his gaze far away as he looked out over the church grounds.

  “Go after the mayor?” He shook his head. “And do what?”

  “Well, you’ve got to give a statement. Granted, it’ll be your word against his, since—”

  “Since everyone else is dead?” He took a deep breath, lifting his sleeve to again wipe at his brow. “Weren’t you listening, Detective? I won’t have Bishop Lewis exposed. I won’t have my past exposed. It ends here.”

  “But without your testimony, there’s no way we’d have any evidence against him.”

  “Even with my testimony, Detective, Mayor Stevens is untouchable.”

  “Nobody is untouchable.”

  He smiled sadly. “Tell her, Ms. Goddard. Tell her how it all works. Tell her about cover-ups and political maneuvers. Tell her how easily the media is manipulated. Tell her how the police chief is but a puppet of Mayor Stevens. Then tell her why no charges will ever be brought against Mayor Stevens.” He looked out the window again. “Tell her he is untouchable.”

  Tori walked out into the sunshine, the air remarkably colder than the heat of the building. Looking around, she turned again to Susan Ames. “Where is his house?”

  “It’s… it’s just down the street here. But maybe we should just call him.”

  “Maybe you should just show us where it is.”

  Tori started walking, pulling Susan along beside her.

  Casey watched as Monsignor Bernard carefully removed the cross from around his neck, placing it gently on the purple cloth on the table.

  “Tainted,” he murmured.

  Then he removed the stole, methodically folding it before placing it beside the cross. Unbuttoning the white robe, he struggled to pull his arms through the sleeves. This, he simply wadded it up and tossed unceremoniously on a chair before turning to face them.

  “I am obviously unfit to wear the garments of Christ.” He looked down and she actually felt sorry for him as he struggled to catch his breath. “Please know that in my heart—in my soul— I deeply r
egret what I have done.” He lifted his head. “It is over now. It is in Christ’s hands.”

  Suddenly he turned, taking giant, lumbering steps to the window and then flung himself out, the glass shattering as his bulk slammed against it.

  Seconds passed before screaming drifted up from below, the sounds weaving their way into the room.

  “Holy shit,” Casey said. “Holy fucking shit.” She tried to stand, then fell back into the chair. “Goddamn cuffs,” she murmured. “Are you okay?”

  Marissa stared, her eyes wide. “I can’t… I can’t believe it. I just can’t believe it.”

  “And I can’t believe we’re goddamn tied to these fucking chairs!” she yelled as she twisted her wrists against the cuffs. She turned to Marissa. “Got any ideas?”

  Susan Ames screamed, the sound echoing through the courtyard, her voice rising as each second passed.

  “What the fuck?”

  “Oh, my God.”

  Tori ran to the man, stopping short at the sight of Monsignor Bernard’s body impaled by the wrought iron spears that surrounded the statue of the Virgin Mary. Blood now stained the pristine effigy as it dripped slowly downward.

  “Son of a bitch,” she murmured.

  More screams were heard as people began to gather, and Tori stepped back, looking up to the third-floor window.

  “Sikes, call it in,” Tori said, her eyes never leaving the third floor. “I’m going up.”

  “Okay, I’m going to scoot the chair around, try to get behind you so I can work on those knots.”

  “Why don’t you have a key to your handcuffs?”

  “Because I just don’t.”

  “You’ve never used them before, have you?”

  Casey grinned. “Well, not in the line of duty, no.”

  Marissa leaned her head back, eyes closed. “Tell me again why we slept together?”

  Casey bounced lightly on her chair, trying to move it, coming dangerously close to tipping over. “Because you couldn’t keep your hands off me, that’s why. And who could blame you? I’m a good catch.”

  Marissa’s retort died as the door slammed open. Tori stood there, her weapon drawn.

  “About goddamn time, Hunter. I was about to perform miracles here.”

  Tori laughed as she holstered her weapon. “I swear, O’Connor, I see you’ll do just about anything to be alone with this woman.”

  “Yeah, right. She seems to have lost her bedside manner, being tied up.”

  “Is that right, Ms. Goddard?”

  “Let me just say I never thought I’d be happy to see you, Hunter.”

  “Hunter, you’re not going to believe what just happened,” Casey said, watching as Tori knelt behind Marissa’s chair. “Yeah, untie her first. She’s getting cranky.” She looked back at Tori. “Anyway, he jumped right through that window like he thought he could fly or something.”

  “Yeah, well, trust me, he couldn’t.”

  “Is he… is he dead?” Marissa asked.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s dead.” She fumbled with the last knot, then turned to Casey. “How in the hell did you allow yourself to get cuffed?”

  Casey glanced to the table. “Well, my weapon is over there.”

  “I see. Why is that?”

  “He took it from me.”

  “How so?”

  “He, well, he had a gun held to her head,” she said, motioning to Marissa, who stood silently by rubbing her wrists.

  “So you missed that day at the academy where you learn never to give up your weapon, huh?”

  “Are you going to lecture me or are you going to get me out of these cuffs?”

  “Got a key?”

  “She doesn’t have a key,” Marissa said. “I assume the last time she used them for playtime, some woman took the key.”

  “O’Connor, God, you’ve got to get a life,” Tori said as she pulled out her key ring, searching for her own handcuff key.

  “We’ve got to talk before they get here.”

  “They who?”

  “They… they,” Casey said, rubbing her wrists when Tori finally freed her. “We’ve been tied up for hours, it seems like.”

  “They who, O’Connor?”

  “The mayor, the chief, whoever. You know, they.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He implicated the mayor in all this.”

  “What the hell are you talking about, O’Connor?”

  Casey took Tori’s arm and pulled her aside, away from Marissa. “The murders had nothing to do with his affair, nothing to do with trying to keep it quiet.” She motioned to Marissa. “She was here to make everyone think it had to do with the affair. Stevens was really concerned with covering up his past.”

  “I don’t really see the point in trying to whisper, O’Connor,” Marissa said as she approached them. “I was here, you know. I heard everything.” She turned to Tori. “Gerald Stevens killed a boy when he was a teen. His brother, Michael, helped bury the body. Michael threatened to tell if Stevens ran for the Senate. Seems there’s some bad blood there.”

  Tori paced the room. “What the hell? Stevens killed someone?” She shook her head. “Unbelievable. So what was Bernard’s role in all this? We know he killed Alice Hagen. They found a lotion smudge. It matched what we found in his desk. What the hell is his role in this?”

  “Bernard had skeletons in his closet too. Stevens knew them. He blackmailed Bernard. Bernard blackmailed Juan. Then Stevens panicked and had Bernard kill Juan and Alice, thinking they were going to talk.”

  Tori shook her head again “This is crazy. Just because he said some things up here doesn’t mean it’s true. You can’t implicate Mayor Stevens.”

  “You should have heard everything he told us, Hunter. It was true,” Casey said.

  Tori turned to Marissa. “What do you think? You knew him better than anybody.”

  Marissa nodded. “Yes, he was telling the truth. He couldn’t live with what he did, he couldn’t live if his past was exposed, and he couldn’t die not telling someone about Mayor Stevens.”

  Tori stared at them. “Then when you give your statements, you better both be on the same page.”

  Marissa shook her head. “No way. I’m not giving a statement.”

  “You have to,” Casey said. “It’s standard procedure.”

  “If we tell everything that Bernard just told us, then we’re next on the hit list.”

  “Oh, come on, this isn’t some gangster movie,” Casey said. “There’s not going to be a hit list.”

  “Tell that to Alice Hagen. Or Juan Hidalgo.”

  “She’s right,” Tori said.

  “Come on, Hunter. What? Are we just going to contribute to the cover-up? We’re going to pretend we don’t know what really happened?”

  “No. But if what you say is true, then I’ll be surprised if you’re even asked to give a statement. And when they come, then if I were you,” Tori said, looking at Marissa, too. “I’d lie my ass off and say he didn’t give up a thing.”

  Casey looked at Marissa. “But what are we accomplishing? Four people are dead now. For what? He’s still the mayor. He can still run for the Senate.” She shrugged. “He’s won.”

  “And what will we accomplish if we give our statements? Where will it go? It’ll be buried, O’Connor. Buried. And then we’re expendable.” Marissa shook her head. “I’m not giving a statement.”

  Casey grasped Tori’s arm. “Hunter, come on. We can’t just let this go. If this was you, if you’d been the one tied up here, if you’d heard all this shit, no way you’d let this go.”

  “Maybe so. But right now, right here,” Tori said, “I have to agree with Marissa. It’ll just be buried, O’Connor. You can’t win this one.”

  Furious, Casey spun around facing the broken window, her fists clenched. “Goddamn son of a bitch,” she yelled.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

  The airport was crowded for a Sunday night. Casey and Marissa stopped, looking at the long line
to check in luggage. Marissa set her bags down, her eyes still troubled as she looked at Casey.

  Casey nodded, shoving both hands into the pockets of her jeans. “Well, we solved two murders today, got everything wrapped up all nice and tidy,” she said. “Two people killed because the monsignor wanted to cover up a love affair.”

  “Appears that way.”

  “You handled the little impromptu press conference very well. The mayor seemed especially grateful. Sunday’s a slow news day and all.”

  “Look, O’Connor, I don’t like it anymore than you do.” Her voice lowered. “We could have been killed today. And for what? Because some jacked-up politician is on a power trip and needed to cover up his past?” She shook her head. “I’m not proud of what I did, but it’s my job. And because I’m good at my job, the mayor thinks Bernard jumped without mentioning his name even once.”

  “And so the mayor gets to go on his merry way while four innocent people are dead.”

  “Life’s not fair. Life sucks,” Marissa said. “Use any line you want—they’re all true.” She glanced at her watch. “I should get going, O’Connor.”

  Casey nodded. “Yeah. Sorry you missed your flight though.”

  Marissa shrugged. “They’ve got me on standby. I’m sure I’ll catch the next one.”

  Casey shifted nervously, finally pulling her hands from her pockets. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Ms. Goddard,” she said with a smile. “I quite enjoyed most of our time together.”

  Marissa laughed. “Sorry I called you an idiot.” She squeezed Casey’s arm. “I enjoyed meeting you too, O’Connor. And if you’re ever in Boston…”

  “Boston? Where’s that?”

  “Funny.” Marissa reached for her bag again. “Take care of yourself, O’Connor.”

  Casey surprised herself both by leaning forward and placing a quick kiss on her lips. “Have a safe flight.”

  She turned and left without looking back. She doubted she’d ever see Marissa Goddard again. But back outside, the cold wind hit and she pulled her jacket collar up around her neck. Glancing around, she saw a familiar figure standing under a light pillar. Tori.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Hunter?”

  Tori pushed off the metal beam, falling into step beside Casey. “Thought you might need a friend.”