Father Patrick shook his head. “Yeah me neither. One of the guards told me. I didn’t have his cell, though.”

“So, does that mean you got my letters?”

Maureen looked over at him. “Now look, Father, I know you meant well and everything, but I was just trying to make a clean break. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate everything you’ve done for me, but me being a part of your life . . . well, you’re just going to end up in a bad spot. I’m not worth it, believe me.” She turned her head back to the window.

“Then why did you take the ride?” he asked. She made no answer so Father Patrick removed the envelope from his lap and slapped it down into hers. “Why don’t you let me decide what’s worth it,” he said firmly.

“What’s this?” she asked quietly.

“Five grand to get you started.”

She pulled out the tightly banded brick of cash. “I can’t take this!”

“You’re going to have to, because I’m not taking it back.” He had come to the end of the entrance road and paused for a minute. The black sedan would need to catch up a bit to be able to take his bait. Smiling to himself, he turned the car right and headed west.

“Now listen to me, Maureen,” he continued. “Don’t worry about the money, I’ve got a lot more stowed away in case I ever had to disappear. I made up my mind to stay with you for a little while and help you find your way. I got a visit from Agent Layton over the winter, and he told me why I was never questioned after Father Preston’s death. Probably trying to rattle me, make sure I knew I was free on the back of his charity, in case he ever needed some leverage. Whatever the case, he told me what you agreed to.”

“Yeah, well, he can think again if he thinks I’m going to be his little dancing monkey!”

“Maureen, you have been given a gift, and I truly believe that it comes from God as a means to do good in this world. But—”

“Oh, cram it with your God crap! Whatever the hell is in my head, it hasn’t ever done me one bit of good! I did what you said and used it to help, and I still got screwed! And don’t you dare start in with your whole ‘God afflicts those he loves’ bullshit, either!”

“It’s not supposed to do you good, but it made all the difference in the world to a little boy in Sycamore Hills and his family!” Father Patrick was beginning to feel the blood rush to his face. He paused for a minute, took a deep breath and regained control of his voice. “But if you had let me finish, I was going to say that it’s not up to me to convince you of what you’re meant to do. I know you’re not truly ready to receive God back into your life and embrace the role He’s given you. Yet. So I’m going to help you disappear for a while. I’ve got a little place in eastern Wyoming with a few trustworthy people I know close by. I’ll take you out there and get you settled, and I’ll stay as long as you feel you need me to. I gotta warn you though, I’m going to have to take you on a very roundabout way, and so it’ll take us a week or more to get there. And I don’t want any questions.”

“Guess that means we’ll be spending some time in some seedy little motels on the way?” she asked in a mocking-seductive tone. “You wouldn’t want to go breaking your stupid celibacy vows now, would you?”

“Trust me, child,” he replied, putting on his most priestly tone, “if I wanted to break my vows, you would not be high on the list of people I would call.”

“Too young and hot for you?”

Too Anglo, he thought to himself, while out loud, he dryly replied, “Something like that.”

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Maureen reached into her pocket and pulled out a small, black flip phone.

“They gave this to me as I was leaving this morning. Another little gift from Agent Layton,” she said, showing it to him. “I guess this is supposed to be their line to me. Cheap bastards could have at least gotten me one of those Blackberry phones or something. Well, here’s what I think of this.” She began to roll down her window.

“No!” Father Patrick yelled sharply, surprising even himself.

Maureen stopped and stared back at him, a stunned look on her face. “Why not? I’m getting out of this deal somehow, and you can’t stop me!”

Father Patrick glanced again into the rearview mirror. The black sedan had taken its place about five hundred yards behind. There were no other cars within sight at the moment.

“I’m not going to stop you, but you can’t throw it out the window right now, trust me. Give it here.” He put his hand out, and she hesitantly put the phone in his palm.

He inspected the phone as best he could while keeping one eye on the road. It was three-year-old technology at least, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be a bug or tracker in it. In fact, he was almost positive there was. They’d have to dispose of it very carefully.

“I have a couple of ideas about this,” he said finally, “but we’ll need to take a couple extra days.”

“Whatever you say, Father,” Maureen said. It seemed to him that she’d resigned herself for the time being. “But you’re paying for gas and food, right?”

Father Patrick smirked at her. Prison hadn’t mellowed her at all. “I’ll pay. I’ve brought plenty of cash.”

Maureen let out a soft chuckle and turned back toward the window, letting her eyes close as she leaned her head to rest it on the seat, finally letting some of the tension release from her body. Father Patrick

Вы читаете Unholy Shepherd
Добавить отзыв
ВСЕ ОТЗЫВЫ О КНИГЕ В ИЗБРАННОЕ

0

Вы можете отметить интересные вам фрагменты текста, которые будут доступны по уникальной ссылке в адресной строке браузера.

Отметить Добавить цитату