“So, what, you think kids were being stolen?” Grace asked doubtfully.
Elizabeth’s reply was cut off when Grace’s phone rang. She snatched it off of her waist and growled, “Donovan.”
At least she doesn’t just save her charm for me.
After snapping her phone shut, Grace sat quietly, and Elizabeth waited for her to speak, none too patiently. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“The call,” she said. “Who was it?”
“None of your damn business.”
She arched her eyebrows in response.
“Not everything is about this case,” Grace replied, irritation evident in her voice.
Elizabeth stayed silent and kept her eyes on the road but surreptitiously watched Grace out of the corner of her eye, who sat with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face.
“All right, fine,” Grace said. “That was a call from the archdiocese. They need to talk; they said it’s urgent. And how the hell did you know?”
“I can read you like a book. So where do they want to meet?”
“Oh no, you’re not going.”
Elizabeth pulled the car over to the side of the road and turned off the engine. “I hope you enjoy walking.”
“You can’t be serious,” Grace said incredulously. “This is blackmail.”
“Technically, no. This is simply me kicking you out of my car. My car, my way,” she stated reasonably.
“I swear I’ve aged since I met you. You know, I woke up with a gray hair the day after we met.”
She smiled. “So, where to?”
Grace released a breath and pulled out her phone. “It’s at the office of the archdiocese. Hold on. I’ll get the address.”
Elizabeth started the car and pulled back into traffic. “No need. I know where it is.”
“Now, why am I not surprised?”
*
Grace grabbed the handle of the glass door of the office building but didn’t pull it open. She turned to Elizabeth. “I’ll do the talking. You stay quiet.”
Elizabeth offered a demure smile, and Grace pulled open the door, allowing Elizabeth to enter in front of her. As they approached the imposing security desk, Elizabeth slowed her pace so that Grace could step ahead, pulling out her badge to show to the security officer. Unlike Elizabeth’s prior experience, the security officer submissively dialed the archdiocese office and announced their arrival, and Elizabeth looked at Grace’s badge still clutched in her hand. I’m going to have to get me one of those things.
A middle-aged man dressed in a business suit came down and greeted them. Somehow, Elizabeth expected to see a bishop or a priest or at least a choirboy come down from the archdiocese offices, not a businessman. As they were escorted to the top floor, she thought about it and surmised that the Catholic Church was a well-organized business with the Pope as the CEO.
Elizabeth didn’t have an opportunity to carry that thought further as they were greeted by a man wearing a formal black cassock when the elevator door opened. “Detective Donovan, I’m Father Eric Casas, Vicar General for the Archdiocese. We spoke on the phone. Please follow me.”
The priest didn’t acknowledge Elizabeth in his greeting, so she mutely followed Grace, who in turn followed the priest. They were led to a conference room with a large glossy table and well-padded chairs that swiveled. Elizabeth waited until the vicar general and Grace sat before she selected her seat, which was to the right of Grace and across from the priest. She resisted the urge to turn her chair in a circle to test its swivel power.
“Thank you for coming, Detective. It seems we have another problem.”
“What is that?” Grace asked.
“It seems that Bishop Pallone is missing.”
“What do you mean by ‘missing’?”
“He was last seen yesterday afternoon in the cathedral garden. There’s been no sign of him since.”
“What can you tell me about him?” Grace asked.
The priest looked thoughtful for a moment. “It was expected that Bishop Pallone would be appointed the archbishop of this archdiocese in light of Cardinal Ryan’s passing.”
Grace leaned forward on the table. “Bishop Pallone was also poisoned along with the cardinal, is that correct?”
“Yes, but fortunately he didn’t consume much of the tainted tea.”
“That is fortunate,” Elizabeth responded, surprising herself that she said it out loud. Grace gave her a sideways glance, but the vicar general didn’t acknowledge her comment.
“Did he see anyone, talk to anyone?” Grace asked.
“There was a note,” the priest replied.
“A note?”
“Yes, according to the bishop’s personal assistant, on the weekend, the bishop received a note that was left for him in the garden.”
“What did this note say?”
“I don’t know. According to the assistant, the bishop opened the note in private.”
“Is there anything more?”
“Yes, I’m afraid.”
Elizabeth sat quietly, more careful to keep her thoughts in her head, but she wanted to jump in and speed up the pace.
“There is money missing,” the priest said.
“How much money?” Grace asked cautiously.
“Fifty thousand is unaccounted for. If the bishop hadn’t disappeared, it would have gone unnoticed. He handles much of the finances for the archdiocese. This missing money led us to a deeper investigation into the Church’s finances. Although we cannot confirm it yet, as it is a bit early, but…” The vicar general paused and blew out a breath. He grabbed the pitcher of water from the center of the table and poured a glass. He took several sips before setting the glass down.
Grace remained motionless, her face void of any expression; Elizabeth, on the other hand, did everything she could not to fidget.
After long last, the vicar general resumed speaking. “It seems we may be short another one hundred thousand. It would have gone missing within the last few months.”
Grace pulled out a small notebook and began writing. “Is there anything else?”
“I think that covers it.”
Grace instructed the vicar general to send over the documents relating to the missing money as well as the name of the bishop’s assistant. He nodded, and as quickly as he escorted them in, he escorted them out.
Elizabeth waited until they were outside the building before she spoke. “You think blackmail?”
“Why would you say that?” Grace asked while keeping a brisk pace toward the car.
Elizabeth had to do a double step to keep up. “Well, you think being kicked out of my car is blackmail, so why not this? Think about it, a secret note, missing money. Someone was blackmailing the bishop. Maybe this time he wanted a bigger payoff than the bishop could give.”
“So then this has nothing to do with your case?”
“Of course it does.”
Grace stopped and threw up her hands. “Okay, I give. How?”
Elizabeth stopped even with Grace and faced her. “I think that the bishop poisoned the cardinal.”
“This is starting to sound like Clue,” Grace said.
“The bishop had everything to gain from his death. He would be the top dog of the archdiocese. Maybe the cardinal found out about the missing money.”
Grace nodded in silent agreement that the theory was plausible. “But I don’t see how this links to your case?”
Elizabeth wondered how the serial killer case suddenly became her case. “Maybe it doesn’t. Maybe it’s all a coincidence, but Sullivan’s body was left in the same garden where the bishop was last seen. The archdiocese owned the school. I just think you should keep an open mind.”
Grace smiled. “I have been forced to keep an open mind since the moment I met you.”
Chapter Twenty-seven
Elizabeth pointed her car in the direction of the clinic and navigated the morning traffic on autopilot. After she parked her car in her usual
spot, she realized that her routine of the last four and a half years would soon be no more. As she walked through the front door, a sense of dread washed over her. The clinic was once a place where she felt a sense of pride and accomplishment; now, it felt oppressive. She decided that there was no need to stretch out the inevitable another day and spent her morning completing case notes and packing up the files. She had already completed all that she could in the short time that she was given, and the rest would be Dan’s burden. Before she headed back out the door, she stopped at Dan’s office and knocked on the door frame. Dan momentarily looked surprised to see her, but quickly covered it with a neutral look of indifference. He gestured her in, and she stepped forward just short of the seat, grasping her hands on the back.
“Just wanted to let you know that the files are completed. I finished what I could. For the rest, I left detailed notes. They’re stacked in order in my office. I don’t see any need to drag this out to tomorrow. I’ll come by on the weekend when it’s quieter to clear out my personal stuff, if that’s okay with you.”
“That’s fine.”
She stared quietly for a moment, waiting to see if he had anything more to say, but when nothing came, she said, “I guess this is it, then.” With that, she turned and walked out of Dan’s office and out the front door of the clinic.
She numbly began the journey to her car when she was stopped by someone calling her name from behind her and turned to see Amy jogging toward her. She came to a halt in front of Elizabeth and pulled her into a hug.
“I’m going to miss you. It won’t be the same.”
Elizabeth held back tears. “Thank you,” was all she could choke out.
Amy thrust a paper into Elizabeth’s hand. “Here is my address and number. You better keep in touch or I’ll hunt you down.”
Elizabeth knew she would make good on her threat. She wrapped her fingers around the paper and simply nodded; her voice failed her.
“Oh, and here, this came for you. Thought you would want it.” Amy handed over an envelope, and she mindlessly accepted it and looked at Amy through blurry eyes. “Thank you, Amy, for everything.”
Amy gave her another hug and quickly turned and walked back. Elizabeth suspected that her eyes were blurry too.
When she returned to her car, she just sat. Now what? Unsure where to go or what to do, she closed her eyes and leaned her head back, and several moments later, snorted and jerked her head forward. She looked around to see if anyone had seen her fall asleep and, more importantly, her less-than-graceful way of waking up. Convinced she was alone, she glanced around her car to get her bearings and spotted the letter Amy gave her.
She read the lettering on the envelope, and when the words Executive Office for Immigration Review came into focus, she ripped it open. She quickly read the pages and let out a squeal. Elizabeth started her car and quickly made her way to Father Parker’s church.
She wasted little time parking and making her way inside and ran down the center aisle with her bag banging against her side, not caring if it was proper decorum to run in a church. As she bounded through the side door, she nearly bowled over Rosa, who was just on the other side. Elizabeth grabbed her by the shoulders, and Rosa began to tremble.
“What is it?” Rosa asked.
“The court reopened your asylum case.” Elizabeth couldn’t contain her excitement. “The deportation order has been lifted. We have a chance now.”
Rosa leaned back against the wall, sank to the ground, and rested her forehead on her knees and wept openly. Elizabeth sank down beside her, wrapped an arm around her, and let her cry. She knew these weren’t tears of sorrow. Rosa let years of grief and anxiety flow out of her.
Father Parker came out of his office. He sat on the floor directly in front of Rosa and put his hand on the top of her head as though blessing her and turned questioning eyes on Elizabeth.
“This is a good thing,” Elizabeth said. She explained the court’s order, and Father Parker patted her on the hand.
“Very good work, Elizabeth.”
She absorbed the praise from the father and reveled in it for a moment.
Mary soon joined them and sat on the floor. Father Parker filled her in, and Mary leaned over and hugged Rosa, who still had tears streaming down her cheeks.
Elizabeth looked around the misfit group sitting in a circle on the floor that fate or other divine force brought together and reminisced about nestling around a fire at summer camp. Everyone started out strangers, but went home family.
“All we need are marshmallows,” she said.
Father Parker cocked his head but didn’t say anything.
“Did I say that out loud?”
“Yes, and I don’t bother asking anymore. I am way past that,” he responded.
“Good, because it would be too hard to explain.”
Within a few minutes, they dispersed, with Rosa and Mary walking arm in arm toward the kitchen. Elizabeth followed Father Parker to his office.
“So how goes the Raymond Miller case?” he asked.
She brought him up to date as he listened with rapt attention, sitting quietly and not interrupting. Elizabeth realized she could use some of his skills.
When she finished, Father Parker asked, “So now what do we do?”
“We? I thought I had lost you after our visit to the social services office.”
“True, I didn’t favor your scheme or my role in it, but I do realize the greater importance of what you’re doing. The information you obtained will only help Mr. Collins, and possibly Raymond.”
Father Parker never ceased to amaze her. He was the most reasonable and patient person she knew and her counterbalance. As she sat lost in thought, the father broke in, “So what’s the next step, Sherlock?”
She expelled a breath. “I’m not really sure. I’d like to track down the German research paper. I have a gut feeling there’s something there.”
“So then, where do we find this paper?”
“The citations in the articles note that a copy of the paper is at the Science and Technology University.”
Father Parker opened a book resting on his desk and bowed his head, trailing his finger across the page. “How about tomorrow morning?”
She cocked her head and smiled.
“What?”
“Nothing. Tomorrow it is. I’ll pick you up around nine.”
She started for the door, but stopped and turned. “Thank you.”
Father Parker smiled.
As Elizabeth walked to her car, she realized that without a job, she had no place to be. Well, let’s go see what Mom and Raymond are up to.
*
Elizabeth found her mother and Raymond in the library huddled behind a computer screen laughing uncontrollably. Charlie, her cat, or at least she thought it was her cat, was curled into a ball at the corner of the desk wearing a sweater. Elizabeth nudged the cat. “Seriously, a sweater? Your friends would so be laughing at you back home.” Charlie ignored her and rolled over.
Unable to resist, she joined Raymond and her mother behind the desk, and a cat in a Santa hat was dancing across the screen. Elizabeth looked at the two of them with tears in their eyes hysterical over the asinine sight and wondered which one was the child. Something about it made Elizabeth start laughing with them or possibly at them; either way, it was cathartic, and for that, she was grateful.
*
Dressed in his dark cloak, Salvator dragged a wrapped lump up the steps as he kicked at a rat that scurried across the cement trying to keep up with him. The curious rat refused to be dissuaded and remained at his side and watched as a naked body was revealed. With effort, Salvator lifted the motionless body and latched the first arm to the metal grate followed by the second. The body sagged as the legs were fastened. Last, the head was raised and tied to the grate across the forehead. The lifeless eyes stared ahead as though mesmerized by an imaginary sight. His mouth hung agape. The skin and hair on the left side of his head hung down in
a bloody clump. A pool of blood began forming below.
Satisfied with his display, Salvator stepped back and watched as the rat crept forward. It cautiously approached the hanging flesh, drawn by the sticky substance that oozed and dripped from the body, and latched its razor teeth on a bloodied toe. He smiled at the sight and turned and silently slipped back into the night.
Chapter Twenty-eight
Elizabeth shielded her eyes from the morning sun as she and Father Parker approached the imposing stone building with carved columns flanking the sides of a large set of red doors. Father Parker pulled open the door that stood in stark contrast to the otherwise bleak building. Once inside, Elizabeth’s eyes were drawn upward to the angels flying above her head. The ornate painting filled the top of the cavernous room.
“Let’s find the reference desk,” she whispered, leading the way, and delved into the room in search of the desk. After five minutes of weaving through bookshelves and occasional tables, she stopped, and Father Parker ran into the back of her.
“Really? We’re back to this?” she said with her hands on her hips.
“Well, you should have brake lights or beeping sounds or something.”
Father Parker waited a beat before he spoke again. “I think we’re lost.”
“We’re in a library. We can’t be lost,” she said, exasperated, and began walking again.
“Well, use your flare gun.”
Elizabeth stopped and turned. “A flare gun?”
“You pack bolt cutters and crowbars, so why not a flare gun, oh mighty Boy Scout? Shouldn’t you always be prepared?”
She turned without a word and continued on as Father Parker obediently followed, until they passed the same bookshelf again.
“I do hate to state the obvious, but I believe we’re going in circles, oh wise pathfinder.”
“You’re not helping,” she said.
“Oh wait, I see land! Oh no, it’s just a mirage.”
“What are you two doing?”
Elizabeth turned to find a stocky woman approaching, who wore her graying hair back in a severe bun and a solid gray dress to match. A frown was etched on her face.
Sins of Our Fathers Page 21
