Reynosa flung the bound report at Simon, bouncing it off his chest. Simon bent to retrieve the discarded report and quickly breathed out, “I’ll get right on it,” and nearly tripped going out the door.
Reynosa swiveled his chair and faced the picture window. He glanced over his kingdom, contemplating his next conquest that would bring him more land over which to reign. A simple retarded boy will not stand in my way.
*
Elizabeth sat at her desk eating a prepackaged salad from the corner market while staring at her computer screen to review her motion in the Sheryl Davies case. “Is it affect or effect? Damn, what’s the rule? Affect is a verb. Effect is a noun. So am I using a noun or a verb? Eeny, meeny, miny, moe.” After making her selection, she moved her mouth to the words as she silently read.
A knock on her slightly ajar door startled her, and she knocked the salad fork off her desk and onto her lap. “Ugggghhhh!” She frantically wiped at the ranch dressing on her slacks. Dan stepped inside and watched her with an amused look on his face. Elizabeth stopped her erratic hand movements, realizing that it looked more than PG-13, if one didn’t know better.
“Sorry, did I startle you?” he asked sheepishly.
“Oh no, it’s my lunchtime ritual to pour my salad dressing on myself. It helps release tension,” she said with a straight face. “You know, you can use the intercom instead of creeping up on me. Oh wait, we don’t have one of those. Never mind.”
Dan ignored Elizabeth’s sarcasm and seated himself across from her. “Sheryl Davies called asking about her case. So I thought I’d come by to see how it was going?”
“She called you instead of me because…?”
“She’s a bit old-fashioned,” he said while finding great interest in the inspirational posters hanging on the wall.
“Translation, women should be home baking cookies and not practicing law.”
He unsuccessfully tried to hold back a giggle. “Something like that. So, how is it going?”
“It’s done. I’m just proofreading it. I’ll file it tomorrow morning.”
“Excellent.” He slapped his hands on his legs and lifted himself off the chair. “Well then, I’ll just mosey on back to my office.” As he reached the door, he turned. “Oh yeah, I forgot to ask, how was your visit to the prison?”
“I’ve had better experiences.”
“Are you satisfied with the conviction?”
She moved her head side to side as she debated her answer. “It’s just hard to believe that Raymond Miller killed a priest. He’s so childlike, yet he doesn’t deny it. He thinks it’s what God wanted, so yeah, I’m satisfied. I’ll type up a memo for each case and get you back the files.”
“Sounds good. Thanks,” Dan said as he made his exit.
Chapter Five
Perched above the courtroom, Judge Horace Bailey leaned forward on the bench and steepled his hands in front of him. “I understand that the plaintiff needs to collect rent, but cutting off the water supply to Ms. Davies’s apartment is not only extreme, but runs afoul of the law.”
The judge turned to Elizabeth. “Counsel’s motion is granted. We’ll set this for a status conference in about three weeks.” He glanced at the court’s large white calendar posted on the side wall. “Ms. Campbell, do you want a date?”
“Sure, dinner and a movie would be nice, Your Honor.”
Judge Bailey chuckled. “I’m flattered, Ms. Campbell, but my wife might have an objection. How about we stick with a court date?”
“If you insist,” she said.
After setting a date, she tucked her file into her bag and made her exit, powering up her cell phone. She noticed seven missed calls from an unknown number and hit the speed dial for her voice mail. A panicked message from Rosa Sanchez sent a chill down her spine, and she scrambled to pull out a legal pad to copy down the number that Rosa rattled off. She listened to the remainder of the messages, all from Rosa.
The phone was answered on the first ring. “Hello, this is Mary. May I help you?”
“Hi, my name is Elizabeth Campbell. I received a message from Rosa Sanchez to call her back at this number.”
“Yes, of course, one moment please.”
Elizabeth could hear a brief scuffing sound as the phone was set down, and moments later, the phone was picked up and a deep breath was exhaled directly into the receiver. “Ms. Campbell, this is Rosa. I’m so glad you got my message. I’m sorry to call you on your cell phone, but I didn’t know what to do. I called your office, and they told me you were in court. I didn’t know when you’d come back, so I called your cell phone.” She finally took a breath.
“Rosa, slow down,” Elizabeth said in a calm voice. “What happened?”
“Immigration, they came to my home. They’re looking for me. Hector and me weren’t home. They went to my neighbor and asked where I was. They said they didn’t know. My neighbor called me at work when they left.”
Keeping her voice controlled, she asked, “Rosa, where is Hector?”
“He’s here with me. When I got the call, I ran out the door afraid that Immigration would come there. I ran to Hector’s school and got him.”
“Okay, where are you now?”
“I’m at St. Michael’s Church. I couldn’t go to your office. It was too far without taking a bus. I’m afraid to take the bus. They might be watching for me. The church is down the street from his school. We come here on Sundays. I didn’t know where else to go.”
“Where’s the church? I’ll meet you there.” Rosa handed the phone back to Mary, who recited off the church address and directions.
*
Elizabeth parked her Roadster next to a dark blue Toyota Camry near the side door of the church. She pulled on the church door but found it locked and circled around the front.
She entered the church and crossed through the vestibule passing a small marble sink set back in the recess of the wall. After entering the second set of doors, she noticed a small baptistery pool to her left. Large colorful stained glass windows were lined up on each side of the church, and each window contained a graphic picture from the Stations of the Cross. Streams of light filtered through the windows, leaving streaks of color on the floor and pews. The church was still and filled her with a peaceful feeling, but her peace was cut short when a door opened and clicked shut from the left side of pulpit. A man dressed in black slacks and a short-sleeved black button-down shirt came into her view. He bore a white collar at the neck of his shirt.
“Hi there, I’m Father James Parker. Please come in.”
“Thank you, Father Parker.” She walked down the center aisle. “I’m Elizabeth Campbell. I’m here to speak to Rosa Sanchez.”
“Yes, I thought you might be. Thank you for coming. Please follow me. I’ll take you to her.”
The father turned and started back toward the side door from which he came, and she dutifully followed. The door led to a small hallway with a tan and blue linoleum floor, and after a short walk, he stopped at an entryway of a small office. The room was efficiently furnished with a computer, printer, fax, and copy machine, and Elizabeth looked around with office envy.
A robust woman sat behind a wooden desk typing on a keyboard, her painted nails making a rhythmic clicking noise. “Mary, this is Elizabeth Campbell,” said the father. He turned back to Elizabeth. “I’ll leave you to your business.”
As the father exited, Mary stood and shook her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” Elizabeth always thought that was an odd greeting to a complete stranger. For all she knew, the person could be on the FBI’s most wanted list, or worse, the person that drives with the blinker perpetually flashing away, but never turns.
Mary’s words broke her thoughts. “Rosa is in the back room lying down. I’ll get her for you.” She quickly exited, and Elizabeth was surprised at the speed in which she moved given her size. Elizabeth glanced down at Mary’s shoes, taking in
the beige nurse shoes, and figured that might have something to do with her agility. Maybe I should give those a try, she thought, as she glanced down at her black heels that were squishing her little toes. Nah.
Rosa entered the room, and the side of her hair stuck flat to her head, as testament to Mary’s statement of her whereabouts. “Let me know if you need anything,” Mary said as she closed the door behind Rosa, leaving them in privacy.
Rosa sat in a chair in front of the desk, and Elizabeth joined her in the matching chair beside it. “First off, how are you?”
“Scared,” she replied without looking up from her lap.
“Do you have any idea how Immigration found out where you live? Your address was confidential in the court file.”
Rosa nodded but didn’t respond.
“How did they know?”
“I told him.”
“You told who?”
“Hector was missing his father. He was crying. I thought if I let him talk to him, he would feel better. I called Jacob.”
“Then what happened?” Elizabeth asked, as if questioning a witness on the stand.
“I called Jacob, and we started talking. He was being really nice, like when we first met. He said he was sorry. He said he knew we couldn’t get back together because he messed up too bad, but he said he wanted to be friends, so we could work together with Hector. He said it was best for Hector.”
Elizabeth sat in silence and waited for her to continue.
“We talked for a long time, and he was being real nice. He wasn’t drunk. He said he didn’t drink anymore and that he saw how bad he was when he drank and didn’t want to be like that anymore. I believed him.”
Elizabeth finished for her. “Then you told him where you lived.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t plan to. It just came out. He said he wanted to visit Hector, but only if I was okay with it.”
“Jacob must have contacted the immigration service. With your outstanding deportation order, they took notice,” Elizabeth said. She felt equally responsible for Rosa’s situation, as she encouraged her to file the restraining order. “Well, first things first. We need to find a safe place for you and Hector to stay. I’ll be right back.”
As soon as Elizabeth opened the door, Mary appeared in front of her. “Is Father Parker available?”
“I’ll go fetch him,” she said, and with her unusual speed, Mary was gone.
Elizabeth returned and found Rosa with her face buried in her hands, and she squeezed her shoulder. “We’ll figure something out.” She heard herself say it, but even she didn’t believe it.
Father Parker entered, and Elizabeth rose. “Father.”
“Please sit.” The father rounded the desk and sat in a black leather chair. She observed how he didn’t have to appease or make offerings to the chair.
“How may I assist?” the father asked.
“Well, we need to figure out a place for Rosa and Hector to stay where they’ll be safe.”
“They can stay here. The church has living quarters that are available. It’s pretty basic and a bit small, but it has all the necessities. More important, it’s safe.”
Elizabeth looked over to Rosa, who no longer tried to hold back her tears. “Thank you,” she choked out.
“That is very gracious of you, Father.”
“The church is a sanctuary for those in need.” He turned to Rosa. “Let me have Mary show you our supplies and clothing donations. I’m sure there’s plenty there to keep both you and Hector going while you stay with us.”
He summoned Mary on his phone, and as Elizabeth had come to expect, she promptly entered the room. After he passed on his instructions, Elizabeth was left alone in the room with the priest.
Father Parker had the trim build of someone who had a disciplined exercise regimen. His well-kept, short brown hair was slightly graying around the temples, and he was clean-shaven with smooth, clear skin. His green eyes seemed thoughtful and kind. A sense of serenity poured from him, and she couldn’t help but contrast this meeting to that with Detective Grace Donovan, with all its frustration and fire. She had actually spent more time than she was willing to admit assessing her meeting with Grace and the tingling sensation that followed.
She’s arrogant and stubborn, but God, does she have legs. I bet her breasts are— No, I will not think of Grace Donovan. Not of her hips. Not of her lips— Oh great, now I’m channeling Dr. Seuss. Oh Jesus, I’m sitting in a church. Oh God, am I going to hell for thinking this? Oh damn, I just used God’s name in vain. I think I better get some holy water on my way out.
Father Parker sat and watched her as she went through her internal diatribe. “Is there something wrong, Father?”
“No, I just didn’t want to disturb you. You seemed deep in thought.”
“Thank you again, Father, for all you’re doing for Rosa and Hector.”
“I’m only happy that we’re able to help. Will you be able to do anything to stop Immigration?”
She blew out a soft breath. “Honestly, I don’t know.” It felt strange to admit that out loud. She was used to being in control and having the solutions, but here, she felt stuck. It made her feel vulnerable.
“It’s okay to not always have the answers,” he replied. “Sometimes you have to have faith that things will work out as they should.”
“Let go, let God?”
“Something like that.” He smiled.
Elizabeth found it strangely comforting to talk to the father. She took in the warmth for a moment before she grabbed her bag and stood. “I should probably get going.” She reached into her leather bag, and when she came up empty, searched the outside pocket before finding what she needed. “Here’s my card. Please call me if you or Rosa need anything.” On the bottom of her card, she jotted down her cell phone number.
Father Parker graciously accepted the card. “Thank you. I’ll walk you out.”
*
Dan watched Elizabeth walk through the reception area of the clinic and stopped her before she reached her office. “How’d the Davies case go?”
“Fine. The motion was granted.”
“Excellent.” Confused by her solemn state, he asked, “What gives? You won.”
She relayed the events of Rosa Sanchez. “I don’t know what to do.”
Dan was thoughtful for a moment. “I’m not sure anything can be done.”
“I can’t accept that. She and Hector are counting on me.”
“Whoa, we’re on the same side here.”
“Sorry. It’s just been a stressful afternoon.”
“Why don’t you go home and get some R and R?”
Amy broke into the conversation. “Dan, you have a call on line two.”
“Who is it?”
“He didn’t give a name. He just said that it was important.”
“Fine, I’ll take it in my office.” He turned back to Elizabeth. “I’m serious, go home.”
After returning to his office, he picked up the receiver. “Hi, this is Dan Hastings.”
“Mr. Hastings, thank you for taking my call. I was hoping we could discuss some business that may benefit us both.”
“Who is this?”
“That’s not important.”
“The hell it isn’t. Who are you and what do you want?”
“We have a mutual friend—Mayor Reynosa. I understand that you’ve been given a little assignment as part of the mayor’s campaign.”
“What’s it to you?”
“I can make it worth your while to close out all the cases you were asked to review without any further investigation.”
“Why?”
“The justice system did its job. There’s no need to dredge this up again.”
“It’s the Raymond Miller case that has you worried.”
“Yes.”
“Why do you want it closed? What do you know?”
“I know that justice was served, and it should be left alone.”
“If justice was se
rved, why are you so concerned by our review?”
“That was a painful time for the victim’s family. Bringing it up again will only reopen those wounds and for what? Raymond Miller confessed.”
“So you’re just a concerned citizen?”
“I’m a concerned citizen who can ensure that your donation plate is full.”
Dan stayed silent.
“Are you there?” the caller asked.
“Yes. How does this work?”
“You make sure all investigations in the case stop, and your clinic will receive a sizeable anonymous donation.”
“How much?” Dan demanded.
“Straightforward, aren’t you?”
“How much?” Dan repeated.
“Fifty thousand.”
“One hundred,” Dan countered.
The caller chuckled. “I see. Well, I’ll see what can be done.”
Dan heard a click and the line was dead. He set the receiver down with trembling hands. “Christ,” he exhaled, running his hands through his hair, as he tried to reason with himself. Elizabeth reviewed the case. She’s satisfied. No harm, no foul.
So why was there a knot in his gut?
*
Naked and kneeling, Salvator sat motionless, bent over at his waist, his forehead resting on the cold concrete floor. He clutched his midsection, digging his fingers into his flesh, leaving bloody gouges in his sides. His body trembled not from the chill of the room, but from fear. Murmurs emanated from the rigid form.
A lantern hanging from a hook on the ceiling swayed back and forth, offering only a ring of light in the center of the room. The low mutterings formed into words. “I received the sign. I have come.”
The room remained still but for his labored breathing. He raised his eyes to the ceiling and stretched up his arms. “You are still here. Guide me.” He began humming “Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star.”
“You dare come back here!” a voice exploded from the recesses of the shadow, causing him to flinch and cower.
Sins of Our Fathers Page 5
