Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78647 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Was it just like on TV with the swinging bare bulb?”
That question had come from a nun who also served as head of The Catholic Foundation for Women and it had been asked with too much glee from a woman of God. Allegedly.
“I mean, you must have done something for them to accuse you and so publicly! Were you having an affair with the priest?” That was the most comment sentiment across four different interviews that I must be guilty of something or else they wouldn’t have accused me.
“Another G&T, please.” This was why I was sitting at a bar at five in the afternoon working on my third gin and tonic of the day. Four interviews and four separate dumpster fires. All four interviews had been set up by my parents before I graduated with people well-connected in the world of rich and influential Catholics.
All so-called good Christians who had no problem salivating over my poor fortune. Wyatt’s too, because of course his gruesome death was their second favorite topic of conversation, making it clear that there was no way on God’s green earth they would be willing to hire me.
Ever.
“Thanks.” I took the drink and sucked down half of it through my straw right away, letting the icy drink do what it could to dull the memories I couldn’t seem to forget and all the sharp edges threatening to cut me open.
I realized after drink number four, they wanted to cut me open, to see me bleed in real time. I thought they wanted some exciting story of good cop versus bad cop, but the truth was, they wanted to know how awful it had been.
How terrifying it was to think the authorities could take your life and freedom away based on nothing at all. They wanted to see my pain to remind themselves what happened when people stepped out of line, took the path less traveled.
“Another please. And a burger.”
The bartender looked relieved at the added burger and I smiled.
“Make it a double.”
Since I couldn’t shut out their questions and judgmental looks today, Maisie’s worried looks, Cal’s disdainful words, I decided to pop a pill to get rid of the pain.
I’d wash it down with booze to blur…well, everything.
CHAPTER FOUR
Cal
Another priest had been murdered, this time in Mayhem. It was all over the local news. It wouldn’t be long before the national media got wind of it, especially with the FBI here sniffing around. Loudly.
It was early enough in the morning that some in this area might still consider it the middle of the night. I was up, though, having my morning coffee while I read all about the forty-seven-year-old priest who had come to Mayhem from Ohio. He’d gone there from Florida. I knew what it was, and I knew why it had happened.
What I wanted to know was when it would fucking stop.
But I didn’t have a crystal ball, so I let out a slow sigh and all the anxiety wrapped up in that particular tale right along with it. I had to push it to the side to worry about something else I couldn’t control.
Bonnie. I wondered if she’d come back safely to the manor last night or the night before. Or the night before that. She’d been taking Jasper up on his half-hearted offer of hospitality for two weeks now, and I’d barely seen her. The few times I caught a glimpse of her, she’d looked worse for wear.
She’d lost some weight, and she wasn’t sleeping based on the deep purple circles under her eyes. She would never stick around long enough to answer any questions, and no one, not even Maisie, knew what she did all damn day.
Besides drinking and whatever else she’d gotten herself into, all in the name of obliterating a pain that would never leave. Her parent’s betrayal might not be the same as the way my father betrayed our family, but it all felt the same to the human heart. The human psyche.
I understood the need to dull that pain, that ache that was a constant throb all day. One that you would give anything to stop. Only it took us all way too damn long to learn that nothing made it stop.
Being pain-free was the temporary state. The pain, once it wormed its way inside your heart, was part of you forever.
Still, Bonnie needed time to get over her shit. All of it: the death of her scumbag boyfriend, the callous rejection by her parents, and the accusation of murder. It was a lot of shit for anyone to take, made harder when she was alone and determined to keep it that way. Made me appreciate the nosy ass Ashby clan even more.
A security alarm sounded, loud and annoying just as I programmed it. As soon as my gaze landed on the location, I was on my feet. I grabbed a nearby tablet as I left my suite of rooms and headed down the long hall that led to a back staircase that would take me right to Jasper’s wing of the house. He’d completely rehabbed it so it was totally separate from the main house yet still connected. No way for Ma to drop in unannounced.