“Get in trouble with whom?” Ally said.
Belle giggled. “That’s right. You practically run the department now.”
“I’m not even on duty today. I stopped by the station to file some paperwork with the state. Besides, this isn’t an official visit. I’d be going with Gallagher if it was. But since this priest was apparently a friend of your aunt, this is simply a little ole social call.”
“You have quite a gift for rationalization.”
“I call it ‘adjusted perspective.’”
Belle shook her head in amusement. “I taught a course on rhetoric and semantics once. You would’ve been a star in that class.”
Ally offered a cheesy, teacher’s-pet-style grin before getting back to business. “Technically, I shouldn’t have you tagging along, but your connection to Marion will be an asset in talking with him. If anything seems wonky, I’ll bring Gallagher in so we can take an official statement from him.”
“Deal,” Belle said with a smile.
They pulled into the retirement village nestled in the woods off the main road and found a space in the visitors’ parking lot. After speaking with Father McKeenan’s sister through her front door, they walked to the pool area and found the retired cleric holding court over a pinochle game with three elderly ladies around an umbrella table.
Ally cautioned her back with an outstretched arm as she appeared to study the scene with Father McKeenan for a moment before approaching. Belle loved watching Ally’s mind work, her face as cold as granite, her big eyes locking on her target like a cat before it pounced.
“This guy’s got more skeletons in his closet than a haunted house,” she finally said with a knowing smirk.
“You got that just by watching him play cards?”
“It’s a combination of things. But I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Ethel was right about him—that his genes created a pool of their own in Danville while he was at St. Matthew’s.”
Belle covered her mouth with her hand as she laughed. “That’s so wrong.”
“Then why are you laughing?”
“I guess I can’t resist a hearty helping of situational irony.”
“C’mon. Let’s go see what this Catholic Casanova is all about. You remember the plan?”
“Aye-aye, Captain,” Belle replied with a salute.
As they approached the table, Belle wondered if they’d even be noticed amid the banter. Father McKeenan was flanked by ladies in floral caftans, beach robes, and big sunglasses, all of whom looked like they were auditioning for an off-Broadway production of The Golden Girls. They shrieked with laughter as they faux-slapped or fell dramatically against the good father. He chewed an unlit cigar as he seemed to be regaling them with flirtatious quips.
“Christ. I don’t even get that much play with women now,” Belle mumbled.
“Seriously,” Ally mumbled back. “I almost hate to interrupt him.”
“You girls looking for someone,” one of the women asked with a smile.
“Uh, yes,” Belle said. “Mrs. Gorman said we could find Father McKeenan here.”
“You found him,” he said, removing the cigar. When he fanned his arms open, the sun caught a gold crucifix nestled in a tuft of white chest hair beneath his hibiscus-print shirt. “What can I do you for?”
“Oh, uh, I’m sorry to interrupt your game,” Belle said after Ally nudged her in the back. “I’m Isabelle Ashford. You knew my great-aunt, Marion, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about her.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said. “I could use a break from these chiselers. They’re charming me out of my retirement savings here.”
“Oh, sure, Artie,” one of the ladies bellowed. “We’re the ones doing the charming.”
All three women cackled as Father McKeenan slowly stood, his posture slightly hunched, and escorted Belle and Ally to a nearby table in the sun.
He groaned as he lowered himself into the chair. “How can I help you gals?”
“Did you know Marion well?” Belle said.
“Oh, yeah, for many years. She started coming to mass fairly regularly after her husband passed. Good woman. Quiet woman but still had a smile for everyone. Always generous when it came to the collection basket, too.”
“Did you have a friendship with her outside the church?” Belle asked.
“No. Not for several years. For a long time she’d listen to mass, sometimes take communion, occasionally stay for a monthly coffee-cake social, but never sought individual counsel from me.”
“When did your personal friendship begin?” Ally questioned, sounding too official for a casual conversation.
He gave her a guarded glance. “I wouldn’t call it a personal friendship. It was more along the lines of spiritual counseling…Why do you ask? Is something wrong?”
Ally looked at Belle.
“Uh, no,” she said. “We’re curious about my aunt Marion.”
“Well, if I remember correctly, she came to me when she started having trouble with her daughter.”
“What kind of trouble?” Ally said.
“Typical teenage shenanigans—defiant, stopped doing well in school, talking back. I told Marion the kid was just testing her, spreading her wings a little, but Marion wasn’t used to it. She didn’t want to loosen her grip on her. They’d been extra close since the husband passed.”
“You didn’t think it was anything more than typical teenage angst?” Ally asked.
Father McKeenan shrugged. “She was running around with the Wheeler kids. Now that family had their problems. Mrs. Wheeler certainly had her crosses to bear with that husband. Anyways, I figured their attitudes were rubbing off on Judy.” He looked at both of them with a combination of concern and confusion. “Are you sure there isn’t something wrong?”
“No, no,” Belle said. “I’m doing some research—for a novel I’m writing about Danville. I figured I’d base a character on my aunt. I’ll be changing the names, naturally.”
“Oh, you’re a writer?” he asked. “Have you written anything I’d know?”
She and Ally exchanged surreptitious glances.
“This is my first book. I’m a college instructor by profession.” Belle pointed at Ally. “She’s my writing partner.”
“Oh, I see.” He smiled, seeming relieved.
Ally seized the opportunity Belle provided. “You mentioned Mr. Wheeler. Some people say he was a nasty guy.”
“He was a boozer who liked to smack his wife and kids around—when he’d bother going home, that is. Big ignoramus, you know what I’m saying?”
“Do you think he could’ve been a child molester?” Belle blurted out.
Ally’s eyes sent off a warning shot. “She’s asking because she’s thinking of addressing that tragic crime in her novel.”
“Oh.” He glanced between the two of them again. “Well, nothing like that was ever brought to my attention about him.”
“So was Marion friendly with any other clergy outside the church besides you?” Ally asked.
“Not to my knowledge. I started there in the early sixties, not long before her husband died. Then I left for a while for Portsmouth. I came back to St. Matt’s in the late eighties and stayed until I retired.”
“Why did you leave?”
“They caught some son of a bitch in Portsmouth screwing around with a couple of boys and sent him to another parish. I was one of the priests they offered the position to.”
Belle shot Ally a look. Either he’d just cleared himself as a potential suspect in Judy’s sex assault, or he was throwing some major shade at them.
She decided to go in for the kill. “I’d heard a rumor around Danville that my aunt may or may not have had a fling with a priest. I was curious whether it was true. It would sure help me write some riveting fiction if it were.”
Father McKeenan managed an artificial laugh as he put his cigar back between his teeth. “If it were true, I’m sure neither your aunt nor the priest would wan
t that story written about, even if the names were changed.”
“Didn’t you ever see The Thorn Birds?” Belle asked. “Forbidden love, unbridled passion—that’s some good shit, I mean stuff. People love reading stories like that.”
He smiled. “I saw it. Richard Chamberlain was my hero in the eighties. Darn program almost made me leave the priesthood.”
Belle smiled in surprise. “Nooo. Really?”
He affirmed her with a frown. “But I couldn’t break the heart of my dear Irish mother.”
“So how about that rumor?” Ally said. “Think there’s any truth to it?”
He scratched at his balding head under his straw fedora. “Well, if I were to give you my two cents, I certainly wouldn’t want to be quoted in a book, but it wouldn’t be as outrageous an idea as you might think.”
Belle grinned and glanced at Ally, who motioned with her eyes to dial it down. “You wouldn’t, by any chance, be speaking from experience, would you?”
Ally’s face deflated in defeat.
Father McKeenan leaned forward. “I took my vow seriously, young lady,” he said, stern but still kind. “I spent my tenure as a priest in earnest service to God and my community. I never took a penny that wasn’t mine and always showed compassion for every one of my parishioners, regardless of lifestyle, but…”
“Nobody’s perfect?” Ally said.
He smiled solemnly. “I had my flaws like all men. Suffice it to say, my service to God would’ve been a lot less complicated had my parents been Protestants.”
“It wasn’t you, was it?” Belle asked in a confidential tone.
Ally stood and dragged Belle up with her. “Well, thank you for your time and candor, Father. You’ve been a big help for our story. We have to get going now.”
“You’re quite welcome, ladies. Sure you don’t want to stay for a drink? I make a heck of an old-fashioned.”
“Some other time,” Ally said, smiling through clenched teeth. “Thanks again.”
As they headed to the car, Belle wriggled her arm free from Ally’s bear-trap grip. “What’s the matter with you? He was about to crack.”
“He was about to shut down, thanks to your Spanish-Inquisition-style line of questioning. You can’t start accusing him of breaking his vow of celibacy ten minutes after meeting him.”
“How long should I have waited?”
“Belle, that’s not the point. We had a plan—you’d present yourself as the writer, and I’d ask the sensitive questions.”
“I’m sorry. I just got caught up in all the excitement.”
“I know you did, babe.” Ally offered an understanding smile as she unlocked the car doors. “That’s why I had to usher you out of there before he started seeing through our ruse.”
“Did I ruin everything?”
“No, honey, you didn’t.” Ally patted Belle’s thigh and started the car. “I have what I need from him for now. We should have the comparison results of Craig Wheeler’s sample any day now. If he’s the father, then we’ll have no need for DNA from anyone else.”
“And if he’s not?”
“Then we go back and review our list of suspects—Father McKeenan and that fingerless Phil guy. I’m stopping by Bob’s tonight to see how he’s feeling. I’ll have a chat with him about Phil. Maybe I can get some details out of him.”
“Finally.”
“If you’re going to be an honorary deputy, you need to learn some patience.”
“Do I get my own badge and Dudley Do-Right hat?”
“No.”
“That’s okay. The perk of taking spontaneous trips with you is the best one by far.” She reached across the console and pulled Ally’s face in for a kiss.
Ally nearly swerved off the road when Belle landed one full-on her lips.
“Whoa,” Ally said, tasting the gloss Belle left on her lips. “Now that’s a job perk I’ve never enjoyed before.”
Belle chuckled. “I would hope not, since the guy you work alongside is almost eighty.”
“He was quite a looker back in his day,” Ally said, and then her face turned grim. “The poor guy—I wish he was doing better. I talked to Shirley last night. He’s been steadily going downhill all summer.”
“Cancer’s tough on anyone, but he’s an old guy. Maybe he’s tired of fighting.”
“As hard as it is for me to believe, I guess it’s possible. I’ve sure missed him since he’s been on leave. He’s like an old philosopher, you know? He could talk a dog off a meat wagon, but he’s a great listener, too. He loves helping people—which explains why he’s been sheriff here for a hundred years.”
“Right?” Belle said with a laugh. She squeezed Ally’s hand as they drove on, moved by the genuine connection Ally seemed to have with her colleague and friend.
They pulled off the state route and followed the sign around the corner to a country lunch stand near a walking trail. As they munched on grilled-cheese sandwiches and fruit salad at a picnic table, Belle stared at Ally. How elegant and sexy she was even doing something as mundane as eating lunch. Her firm jaw pulsed as she chewed, and then she licked her inviting lips before sipping from a bottle of water.
“I just thought of something,” Belle said. “The DNA samples from the guys can establish who the father is, but how are you going to identify the mother?”
“That’s the easy part. I’ll ask the father.” Ally grinned with confidence as she bit into her sandwich.
Belle tapped her index finger against her temple. “Brilliant.” She stopped as she was about to bite into hers. “Wait a minute. What if he doesn’t want to cooperate?”
“You’d be amazed at how fast telling someone you have enough evidence to charge them with murder motivates them to cooperate.”
“Would you have enough to charge someone with murder if their DNA came back a match?”
“No, but they won’t know that.”
“There’s nothing on God’s green earth sexier than a powerful woman.” Belle leaned over the table and whispered, “What do you say after lunch we run off into the woods for a romp?” She indicated the entrance to the trail across the street with a nod.
“That sounds fantastic, but that’s a public walking trail.”
“So? It’s in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the work week. Nobody’s gonna be in there.” Belle kicked off her flip-flop and tickled Ally’s shin with her toes.
Ally arched an eyebrow at her. “‘I’m in line to become the next sheriff, so let’s go have sex in a public place’ said no intelligent elected official ever.”
Belle laughed out loud. “You’re right. Most of them wait till after they’re in office.”
“Touché,” Ally said with a grin.
“C’mon.” Belle bit her bottom lip. “It’s where nature intended for us to do it.”
Ally pretended to mull over the suggestion with an innocent face. “Only if you can promise I won’t have poison ivy on my ass when I get up.”
“Who says you have to lie down?”
“I like the way you think, Professor Ashford. All we need is a sturdy tree.”
“Eat faster,” Belle said and licked her lips.
“First you want me to eat dairy and then eat it faster? I’ll burn the entire forest down if you light a match behind me.”
Belle nearly spit out the melon chunk she’d put in her mouth. “Guess s’mores are out of the question,” she said, still laughing.
“Thank you. I don’t want to be responsible for any wildfires.”
“Except for the wildfire burning between us.”
Ally patted her heart as though she were swooning. “Isabelle Ashford, you are the sexiest, corniest woman I’ve ever known.” All levity was gone from her voice, and her level of sincerity rivaled that of a marriage proposal when she added, “I love you madly.”
Belle dropped the end of her sandwich in its little paper boat and took Ally’s hands.
“I love hearing you say that. I love you, too.”
<
br /> “Sometimes it scares me.”
“Feeling it or saying it?”
“Both.” Ally looked down as she flushed.
“Really? You seem like the bravest woman in the world to me.”
“I carry a Glock 9, so yeah, I give off that impression. But full disclosure? I’ve never felt like this for anyone before, Belle. You worry me, excite me, and care about me the way no one ever has. It’s pretty intense.”
“Ally,” she said as she felt her eyes welling up. “What brought all this on?”
She shrugged. “Just sitting here watching you pick through that container for the perfect cantaloupe square. That’s all it takes these days.”
“Oh, babe,” Belle gushed. “I love that you’re such a romantic.”
“Follow me.”
Ally swept up their trash in her arms, dumped it into the can, then tugged Belle off the bench by the arm. They ran across the street and onto the wooded path, giddy like girls playing doctor for the first time at a sleep-away camp.
Once they found shaded seclusion deep within the woods, Belle pushed Ally against a thick-trunked tree and kissed her passionately, wasting no time as she unbuttoned her Capri pants. Ally was equally efficient, tugging Belle’s bra over her breasts.
They tasted each other’s lips in the still air fragrant with damp leaves and sweet wildflowers. Belle craved Ally like it was their first time as Ally’s physical aggression set her skin on fire with anticipation.
Ally then grabbed her and turned her against the tree, thrusting her thigh into her. Belle’s back scraped against the bark, but the pain only heightened her senses. Sweaty against each other in that moment of spontaneous risk and desire, they reached breathless satisfaction together.
Chapter Twelve
Ally’s text woke Belle shortly before her alarm, requesting that she come to the station as soon as she could. The imperative compelled her to call Ally immediately with a litany of questions, but she resisted, titillated by the intrigue.
As she showered, her mind bolted off in a myriad of directions. She knew Ally had gone to visit Bob and Shirley and to discuss the case with him. Maybe he’d given her new information. What if Bob had remembered a new suspect? Or Shirley remembered one of the boarders’ last names? Or maybe Ally had planned a surprise marriage proposal, knowing how much Belle loved her in her uniform.
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