More silence.
“She wrote for a news hub. She wrote anonymously to protect herself from the cartels and from the corrupt police. She knew what she was doing was dangerous, but she did it anyway.”
Even more silence.
“Because of what she wrote about, there was a bounty on her head. I guess there are bounties on the heads of everybody who writes for that website, but I knew there was a bounty on her head because I was paid handsomely when I told the cartel about her.”
Father Crisanto hasn’t moved at all this entire time.
“Because I am greedy I sold my friend out. I told the cartel who she was and where to find her, and they captured her. And they … they tortured her before they killed her. They filmed all of it, and they uploaded that video to the website, and then—”
Before I can finish, Father Crisanto suddenly shifts from his silent resting place. There’s a familiar click, and then he’s up and out of the booth and is tearing open my curtain, and for an instant I can see the fury in his face, the pure rage, and he has a gun in his hand and starts to raise the barrel toward my face.
But in the priest’s sudden rage, he momentarily forgets about Nova—who steps into view and places the barrel of the Desert Eagle against the back of Father Crisanto’s head.
Nova says, “I’ve done many horrible things in my life, but I’ve never killed a priest and would prefer not to kill one today.”
Father Crisanto freezes. He keeps glaring back at me, but then little by little the rage starts to fade from his face. He takes a deep breath, and his shoulders drop in defeat.
I say, “I had nothing to do with Gabriela’s death, but I wanted to be sure you were the right person. You cared deeply about her, didn’t you?”
“I care deeply about all my writers. How did you know where to find me?”
I don’t answer the priest. Instead, I say, “Nova, I think you can give Father Crisanto space now.”
Nova steps back, slowly lowering the gun to his side.
I stand up and exit the confessional.
“You don’t normally carry a gun on you, do you?”
The priest shakes his head slowly, as if he’s ashamed, but says nothing.
“I could tell when you approached us. By the way you walked. You’re not comfortable having it on you. It digs into your back, doesn’t it?”
The priest nods. He takes a moment to glance around the cathedral and notices the old woman is gone.
“Where did Dolores go?”
Nova says, “She took off right after she spotted my gun.”
Father Crisanto sighs and then turns back to me.
“Did you really know Gabriela?”
“I did. I was with her the past two days before she was murdered.”
He frowns at this, and then a certain understanding enters his eyes.
“You were the one who found the bodies.”
“That’s right. And that’s why we’re here. We’re hoping you can give us some information.”
“About what?”
“The Devil.”
Forty-Six
Father Crisanto lowers himself down into one of the pews with a heavy sigh. He stares up toward the front of the church at the large crucifix hanging on the wall. He takes his glasses off, rubs his eyes, replaces the glasses, and then looks at me.
“What do you want to know?”
“Who is he?”
Father Crisanto laughs.
“That’s a long story.”
I gesture at the empty cathedral.
“We have time.”
Father Crisanto shakes his head and says, “Who are you, anyway? You were the one who found the bodies, yes? But you are no tourist. You or your boyfriend.”
“For starters, he’s not my boyfriend. And as to whether or not I’m actually a tourist, what does it matter?”
Father Crisanto squints at me, studying my face.
“Why were you there?”
“I just happened to be driving past.”
He shakes his head again.
“No, you were there for another reason. Why?”
“It doesn’t matter why, Father. What matters is the Devil killed that woman and the children. He—”
Father Crisanto cuts me off.
“He didn’t.”
“What?”
“He didn’t kill the woman and children.”
“How do you know?”
Looking uncomfortable again, Father Crisanto only shrugs.
I decide to try a different approach.
“Gabriela put in her story that the murders were done by the Devil. But then you took it out. You told her that there was no solid evidence that the Devil actually committed the murders, and until there was, you weren’t going to speculate.”
Father Crisanto takes his glasses off to rub his eyes again.
“Is that your question?”
“No, my question is why?”
Father Crisanto is silent for several long seconds. I think maybe he won’t answer me at all, but then he issues another heavy sigh.
“He didn’t do it because they weren’t on the list.”
“What list?”
“The list that—”
But Father Crisanto cuts himself off, shakes his head.
I lean forward and say as quietly and calmly as I can, “We’re not here to hurt you, Father. We’re just trying to get some answers. We want to know what’s going on. If the Devil didn’t kill the woman and children, then I want to know who did. But first I need to understand who the Devil is and why he’s doing what he’s doing. Tell me about this list.”
Again, Father Crisanto doesn’t look like he’s going to answer me. He just sits there, his shoulders slumped forward, staring at the front of the church.
I glance at Nova, who’s standing several paces away, keeping an eye on the entrance in case somebody enters. He looks at me and shrugs. I shrug back, and I’m about to try another approach when the priest speaks.
“Are you familiar with President Cortez?”
“No.”
“He was elected just over a year now. The campaign against him was very nasty. President Cortez ran on a platform to do whatever it took to stop the cartels. As you can imagine, the cartels did not like this. They issued many death threats. One time they even tried to kill him, but the bullet only grazed his arm. After that, his popularity soared. It was clear then he would be elected
