I've Got My Eyes on You(41)

Father Frank had replayed the two conversations with Marge a dozen times in his mind. She had confided in him, which is very different from being in the state of sacrament. If she had asked him to hear her confession, his obligation to remain silent would have been absolute. But since she had merely confided in him, the sacrament of penance did not apply. If Marge would not do so, it was his obligation to share what he knew with the police.

? ? ?

After her conversation with Father Frank, Marge’s conscience continued to weigh heavily on her. She had asked Jamie twice over the past two days to repeat what he saw happen in Kerry’s yard before he went swimming with her. Both times he told the same story. “Alan kissed Kerry goodbye. Then he went home. Then the Big Guy hit Kerry and pushed her into the pool.” He added, “Daddy called me ‘the Big Guy.’ He’s in Heaven with Kerry.”

The idea that Alan was going through a living hell for something he didn’t do gnawed at Marge. That was why when she called Father Frank and he said he could come over, it was a relief. She had decided to discuss with him how to go about contacting the police.

The doorbell rang at three-thirty. Jamie had gone straight from work to watch the school teams practice. Marge was relieved that he would not be home when she spoke to Father Frank.

When she answered the bell, Father Frank followed her into the modest living room, which was scrupulously neat. She invited him to sit down and pointed at a large overstuffed chair that reminded him of the furniture in his grandmother’s house.

“That was Jack’s favorite chair,” Marge said. “After his grandmother died, Jack brought it home.”

“It’s very comfortable, Marge.”

“I’m sorry, Father. I’m talking about furniture because I’m too nervous to talk about the reason I asked you to come over.”

“Marge, I was planning to call you. I think I know what you want to talk about.”

“It’s not right for me to keep quiet while Alan Crowley is in so much trouble.”

Father Frank remained silent to allow her to continue.

Marge bit her lip. “Since I spoke to you, I have asked Jamie twice to tell me what he saw the night of Kerry’s party. Both times he repeated that Alan kissed Kerry and then went home.” She looked away as though gathering strength. “I know in my heart of hearts Jamie never would have hurt Kerry. I have to tell the police what I know.”

“Marge, you are making the right decision.” Father Frank tried to conceal the relief he felt that Marge had reached that conclusion on her own.

“Father, I don’t have any money. Obviously, neither does Jamie. I understand there are lawyers that will help people like us for free.”

“Do you mean public defenders?”

“Yes, if that’s what they call them. I’d like to speak to one now, before I talk to the police about Jamie.”

“Marge, from what I understand, it doesn’t work that way. They will make a public defender available to someone who has been accused of something. I don’t think they can help you before then.”

“I have ten thousand dollars in my savings account. Will that be enough for a lawyer?”

“Marge, I don’t know a lot about how much lawyers charge. I do know that one of our parishioners, Greg Barber, is a very good attorney. For much less than his usual fee, he has worked with our parishioners who needed his help. If you would like, I’ll reach out to him for you.”

“I would appreciate it so much.”

“I’ll speak to him this evening. I know he’ll want to help you.”

That evening Father Frank phoned Greg’s home. Greg’s wife told him he was finishing a case in Atlanta and would return in four days. She gave Father Frank his cell phone number. Father Frank immediately called Greg, who promised that he would try to help Marge and asked that she call his office the day he got back.

Father Frank called Marge and told her about the lawyer’s schedule. They both agreed that she should wait to speak to him before contacting the police. He would remain in touch with Alan Crowley to make sure he was all right. Hopefully, a few more days would not make any difference.





53




The seminar, as promised, concluded promptly at 8:30. Aline was happy she had decided to go. The presenters had offered interesting insights about how some student athletes turn sports, which should be a stress reliever, into an additional source of stress. The problem was often made worse by parents and coaches who focus solely on winning.

The small auditorium appeared to be about half-filled. As she was standing up to leave, Aline looked around. She was relieved when she did not recognize anyone she knew.

As they started to walk outside, Scott said, “Now for the $64,000 question.” His hands pretended to do a drumroll. “I know a wonderful Italian restaurant nearby. And I promise I won’t practice my fractured French on you.”

“I enjoyed brushing up on my French.”

She followed him to a restaurant that was less than a mile away and pulled up next to him in the parking lot. When she got out of her car, he was holding up a wine carrier with two bottles. “It’s a bring-your-own restaurant. I brought a Chardonnay and a Pinot Noir, just in case you said yes.”

Once inside, Scott ordered from the menu in surprisingly good Italian.