not made him happy.
'When did Deleon come to see you?'
'Ten days ago.'
'Took you a while to get here,' I said.
'Yes. I was afraid.'
'And now you're not?'
'No. I am still afraid. But, I… I felt I had to come here and tell you.'
'Where will the ceremony take place?'
'At Luis Deleon's home.'
'In San Juan Hill?'
'Yes.'
'When the time comes, could you bring another priest with you?'
'Another priest?'
'Yeah.'
'There is no need for another priest.'
'I was thinking about me in a priest suit,' I said.
The priest stared at me as if I were the anti-Christ. 'You think Angela Richard might be the other woman?'
'Could be,' I said. No sense burdening the priest with more information than he can use.
'Holy Mother,' he said.
'Could it be done?'
'A second priest? You in disguise? I… I don't know. I think… I think I would be… too… afraid.'
'Sure,' I said. 'Is there. anything else you can tell me?
'No. It is all I know.'
I nodded. We drank our coffee in silence.
'Does this information help you?' the priest said finally.
'All information helps,' I said. 'Once we figure out how it fits with other information.'
'Maybe it means that the woman you seek is not there?'
'Maybe,' I said. 'Or maybe it is the woman I seek.'
'She is already married.'
'Yeah.'
'Then how could I marry them?'
'Maybe they plan to lie,' I said.
'Why would they do that?' the priest said.
'Maybe she has no choice,' I said.
We drank our coffee again. The priest was thinking.
'I do not know what is right here. I was very afraid to come to you, afraid Luis Deleon would find out. But I came because I thought it was the right thing, and it would clear my conscience. Now I find that it opens up a multitude of things that are not right. What if Luis Deleon asks me to perform an illicit marriage? I hope it is not the same woman.'
I made no comment.
'I hope that is the case,' the priest said. 'Is it selfish of me to wish that? It would mean that you have no idea where the missing woman is, and you have been wasting your time. It might mean that she is dead somewhere. Can I wish such a thing?'
'You're a man, Father. You probably can't always control what you wish.'
'But I must try,' the priest said. 'I am not just a man. I am a man of God.'
I looked at him sitting rigidly on the edge of my client chair, holding his half-empty cup of bad decaf, struggling with his soul. It must have been a struggle that occupied him daily.
'It took courage to come here and tell me this stuff, Father.'
'Thank you,' he said.
He stood and took his coffee cup to my sink and rinsed it out and put it on the little table beside the Mr. Coffee.
'You'll let me know, Father, anything develops?'
'Yes.'
