Who was behind their deaths?
He zigzagged the lines of the letter searching for anything related to Dana but all it contained was his confession for having indecently engaged with an altar boy, and his role in killing Cosmo. Jack scanned the desk and then opened two of the drawers before he discovered a cell phone. It still had power. He fired it up and was scanning through contacts when a cry from the sanctuary pierced the silence.
Jack darted out of the office and made his way down to the sanctuary. He cracked the door open and peered in to see a group of five people, some old, and some young, gathered around the priest’s body. A guy said he would call the cops and got on a phone. Jack turned and got out of the building through the same side door and noticed a church van now in the lot.
Had someone seen him inside?
Was it the one playing games with his life?
His mind churned over what the priest said as he slipped away into the night.
Chapter 22
The steady hum of a road-sweeping truck woke Jack that next morning. With the knowledge that police were probably scouring the streets looking for Garcia’s killer, he’d avoided heading back to Tyson’s mother’s place and opted to sleep on a park bench. His body ached as he sat up and stretched out. Old newspapers fell off like skin. He’d used them to keep himself warm as the temperature dropped. He pawed at his eyes. Not far from him a homeless person sat by a tree with his dog, swigging from a brown paper bag. The hobo offered a wide grin revealing a toothless smile. Jack nodded then glanced at his watch. It was a little after seven.
Memories of the previous night came back to him hard and fast.
His stomach twisted. There was so much he still didn’t know.
Although he’d learned a little, it wasn’t enough. It hadn’t given him Dana back; neither had it brought him any closer to finding out who was behind her abduction. Jack rolled his head around and ran a hand around the back of his neck as he rose to his feet. The weight of the priest’s phone in his pocket reminded him to toss it. He knew the cops wouldn’t be searching for it yet. Investigations into a death were a slow and painful process. Without concrete leads, or hard evidence, police usually had little to go on. Jack tossed the phone into the woods. It was useless. He’d searched through it late that night, but there were only a few contacts listed, one for his elderly father, and the other for two local churches. Text messages yielded nothing. He obviously was old school and stuck to phone conversations or an in-person meeting. It was possible that he hadn’t contacted him the same way he had with Garcia. But if Garcia was telling the truth and he was just a pawn in this man’s game, who were the two men Garcia mentioned seeing when he handed over Dana at the church? And what connection did Arkansas play in all of this? And if Dana never made it back to Telluride, how had the tablet with the video managed to find its way back into the safe deposit box?
As he strolled out of the park and headed east for Tyson’s home to collect his bag, he pulled out his own phone and powered it on. He knew Tyson would have been trying to get hold of him last night but he’d turned it off when he’d approached Garcia’s place. Sure enough, there were several texts, and a few additional phone messages.
Where are you?
The fight is starting. Call me.
Jack, Pope is pissed. Phone me.
The phone messages were similar.
He slid it back into his pocket and expected to make it up to him before he left Santa Fe. He couldn’t understand what he was dealing with here. Jack was used to cowards hiding behind others but manipulating a cop and a priest to do his bidding? That was below the belt. There was more to this. But what? Anyone could be responsible. His enemies were numerous.
It took him the better part of forty minutes to reach Shanice’s home.
When he arrived and knocked, Shanice came to the door, her eyes welled up and swollen from crying.
“Shanice?”
Holding a tissue in her hand she dabbed at her eyes as she tried to catch her breath.
Jack’s heart sank as his mind went to the worst.
“Where is he?”
“You don’t know?” she asked.
“I wasn’t with him last night.”
She nodded but said no more, she simply turned and walked back inside and he followed her into the kitchen. She was having difficulty breathing and the hiss of oxygen coming from the tank was even louder. “Carla phoned this morning.”
“What happened?”
“He’s in the hospital. He was attacked.” She shook her head. “Why would they do that to my boy?”
She heaved trying to get air. Jack placed a hand on her shoulder. “Have you been to the hospital?”
“A cab is supposed to be coming shortly.”
Jack nodded. “I’m coming with you.”
He collected his bag and waited for the cab. Carla had given her little information other than he’d been involved in a fight and knocked unconscious. Jack went to the window at the sound of a horn. He assisted Shanice out and they traveled together to Christus St. Vincent Regional Medical Center.
Jack expected Shanice to blame him but she never did. Instead she gripped his hand on the ride to the hospital. Here was a woman who only a day earlier had her reservations
