not more.
Still, if he couldn’t…
God was tempting him. He would do the right thing. The priest felt a twinge of guilt as he looked up.
“He spoke to the treasurer himself. The money was wired into the account,” said Mrs. Perez.
“What are you talking about?” he asked the housekeeper. “Who spoke to the treasurer?”
“A parishioner who wishes to remain anonymous. He funded the basketball season — the entire season — And asked for not so much as a God bless you in return. He must be a saint, father. A true saint.”
Casey blinked. “Aye,” he said, looking back at the tickets. “A saint and a sinner… The best of us are.”
Вы читаете Angels of Wrath
