Long Road to Mercy (Atlee Pine, #1)(61)

Pine really had no idea why she was even here. Just a reference to a church basketball league? A dubious connection if ever there was one. And yet what other leads did she have?

She took a seat in the front pew and continued to examine the space, looking for anything that might help her.

As she was sitting there, a man walked out from a door behind the altar.

His white collar indicated he was a priest. He was tall, nearly six six, and young, maybe late thirties, with a shock of red hair and sprinkles of freckles.

Maybe a classic Irish priest, mused Pine. She wondered how many of those were still around.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m afraid you’ve missed the last Mass.”

“I just stopped in to, I guess, meditate a bit. I hope it’s okay.”

“It certainly is. We are open for all those seeking a quiet space in which to think and practice their faith.”

He drew closer and started when he saw her battered face. “Are you all right?”

“Car accident a few days ago. Still a bit banged up.”

He looked at her with a dubious expression. “I’ve had women come in before and tell me that. If things are not going well at home, I’m here to listen. No one should be abused by another. I can help you with that. We can offer shelter. And maybe you should think about calling the authorities.”

In answer, Pine smiled and held up her ringless hand. “I’m not married. And I do MMA. There aren’t many guys around who could take me. I really did have an accident.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But with the way people drive around here. And everyone texting.” He extended a hand. “I’m Father Paul.”

“I’m Lee,” said Pine, shaking his hand.

“Do you live around here?”

“No, I’m actually visiting. I live out west.”

“The wide-open spaces, then?”

“A lot wider than here. Father, can I ask you a question?”

“Certainly. Priests are asked lots of questions. But don’t hold me to always having the right answer.” He grinned.

Pine smiled warmly. “I think a friend of mine is one of your parishioners.”

“Oh, yes?”

“Ironically, his name is Ben Priest.”

“Oh, Ben. Yes, yes he is. Though I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He told me he plays in a church basketball league?”

Father Paul smiled. “Yes, it’s an informal thing. I actually started it about two years ago. As you can probably tell from my height, I play. But Ben, though he’s some years older than me, is an exceptional player. Small forward. We compete against other churches in the area. Nothing official, but it’s good sport and fellowship.”

“You say you haven’t seen him for a while?”

“No. In fact, we had a game last week, but he didn’t make it. I called him but didn’t get an answer. But he goes off quite often. He’ll be back.” He paused. “So, you’re friends with Ben?”

“Yes. And his brother and his family.”

The priest’s brow furrowed. “That’s funny. He never mentioned a brother.”

“Ed Priest. He lives in Maryland with his wife and kids.”

“Hmm. Well, come to think, Ben never really talked about himself very much. He just always seemed to be listening to everyone else.”

“Yeah, he’s like that.”

“How do you know him?”

“Through mutual friends. I haven’t known him all that long. But I was supposed to see him while I was here visiting. But he’s not answering my phone calls either.”

“Have you been by his house?”

“I have. And no one was there.”

“And he knew you were coming?”

“Yes. We’d made plans.”

Father Paul now looked worried. “I hope nothing has happened to him.”

“I’m sure he’s fine. Like you said, he just goes off sometimes.” She paused and added, “I wonder where, though?”

Father Paul sat down in the pew next to her. “You said you met Ben through friends. How well do you actually know him?”

“It’s funny. He’s always struck me as a person who shows very little of himself. Like you just intimated. What do you know of him?”

“Probably not much more than you do.”

“I don’t even know what he does for a living. He mentioned something once about politics, government, that sort of thing. I suppose lots of people around here do that.”

“They do, yes. Probably half my parishioners work in some capacity that’s connected to the federal government.”

Pine faked a smile. “I know this will sound silly.”

“What?”

“It always struck me that Ben might be some sort of, well, spy.”

Her grin broadened as though she thought this was ridiculous, though she hoped the priest would take the bait.

“If you want to know the truth, I thought the very same thing.”

Pine feigned surprise. “Really? Why?”

“A million little things, which on their own probably didn’t amount to much. But taken together, they just led me to believe that whatever he did was sort of, well, clandestine, for want of a better term.”