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There were a few security lights on in the long school portion of the building, but the church was pitch-black dark. With a facility this large, there had to be more than one priest around. There was bound to be security for the school, maybe janitors working at night, and a long list of other people that could wander in and out. Rather than voicing my doubts, I waited to hear what Blake had planned. I lowered myself into the Corvette's passenger seat, hoping for information.
Tonight, there was no evidence of the sexy flirt from the restaurant. This man was all about serious business. “Now you can see why it will take more than one person for a thorough search. I've had people watching the place for two weeks, so we have a pretty good handle on all the routine things that happen.”
“I'm sure you have all the scheduled activities mapped out, but what about people that aren't scheduled? For instance, at the school a teacher might have forgotten something and come back later to pick it up, that church may stay open all night so people could wander in to pray at any time. There are dozens of unforeseen things that could happen.”
“You're right, and I've taken that into account as much as possible. I also got one good piece of news today. My sources have discovered that the item we're looking for is either in the school's small chapel or somewhere in the main church. That still leaves a huge area to search, but at least we don't have to search the entire school. I am hopeful they will narrow it down even more before we search.
“Let's take a walk around the block so you can see the layout. I don't want to go inside tonight in case there's anyone around that might recognize us later, but I have detailed blueprints of the buildings you can study. Once we've walked the neighborhood, we'll go back to my place, and I'll explain the plan and show you the blueprints.”
I couldn't wait to hear how he planned to tackle this job, but all I said was, “Let's go.”
We walked the entire block, paying careful attention to all the entrance doors for both the school and the church. Like most schools, this one had night lighting. Except for the end furthest from the church, the entire building was mostly glass. The brick end of the building had one huge, round stained-glass window leading us to believe that was where we'd find the chapel. The glass portion of the building had three outside doors, with one additional door at the back of the chapel. There were no windows in that portion of the building except the decorative one. There wasn't much more to see of the school.
On the opposite end of the block was the church. It looked nineteenth century with its bell tower and Victorian exterior, but I wasn't savvy enough to know how old it really was. It was entirely possible the designer had copied an older style. Either way, it must have been there back when this area was flower gardens. It wasn't as big as I'd originally thought, and unlike the school, this building looked completely dark. Blake told me the main door remained unlocked all night for anyone seeking solace. Surely, they weren't expected to enter into darkness, so there must have been some kind of light inside. The building appeared Gothic and spooky. I'm sure that wasn't the intent, but similar images had appeared in too many TV horror shows. I knew at least part of the building was two story, possibly housing a choir loft and maybe meeting rooms. I was surprised but pleased to note there were two small outside doors on the back of the building. There were so many bushes back there that the doors were partially hidden, but there was a small, worn footpath from one door to the parking lot behind the church. During the time we were looking around, no one entered or left the building. That was all I could tell from seeing the outside, so any additional information would have to come from the blueprints.
I was a little unsure about going to Blake's residence, but that's where the blueprints were, so I didn't have much choice. Unlike my home, Blake had chosen a more high-profile lifestyle. He owned the penthouse atop one of the ultramodern glass skyscrapers right in downtown Phoenix, and it wouldn't surprise me to learn he owned the whole building. I suspected he could afford it.
The room he took me to was obviously an office. It was spectacular. Three sides were glass and looked out over both the city and the surrounding valley. I don't know how he ever got any work done up there rather than spending all his time enjoying the view. At one end of the room there were a desk, bookcases, and several comfortable-looking couches. He led me to the opposite end containing a huge table surrounded by ten chairs. A thick set of blueprints was laid out on the table. Instead of heading straight for the table, Blake went to a well-equipped mini-bar and poured us what he called a working glass of wine. It was a delicious red, and I meant to ask him the name, but we were quickly so involved in the blueprints that I forgot.
There was not much to the school's chapel. The one small room seemed like the least likely place for something valuable to be hidden. The only challenge there would be getting in and out unseen.
The church was another story completely. I'd been correct in thinking there was a choir loft upstairs. There were also three other rooms. The blueprints didn't tell us what the rooms contained, but they were labeled as office, meeting room, and counseling room. In the downstairs part of the building, nearly all the space was occupied by the sanctuary and a large nave at the front of the room. There was a door behind the nave that led to a room labeled storage and a staging area where I assumed priests and others prepared for their entrance. I wasn't happy to discover that the building had a basement under three-fourths of the building. The blueprint showed it as one large room.
By the time I'd absorbed most of the details from the blueprint, we'd agreed on when and how to proceed, but Blake still hadn't told me what he needed to steal and wouldn't until the night of the robbery. I wondered why he was so reluctant. I got the feeling he was holding back information but couldn’t understand why, since it wasn't like I could double-cross him. I was also wondering if I could get another glass of Blake's excellent wine before I left, when he leaned over and kissed me. It wasn't completely unexpected, but the little shockwave of pleasure that ran the length of my body was. I'd been thinking lately that limiting my male companionship to Kit wasn't the best of ideas. Now it looked like I'd have a chance to find out if I chose to. I wouldn't have thought one glass of wine would make a difference, but later, when I wondered about my confusion, I wasn't so sure. Whatever the cause, I leaned into the man's hard body and returned the kiss.
He must have been waiting to gauge my response, because the moment he felt my participation, he took my hand and pulled me to the couch on the opposite side of the room. His intention was obvious, and I was tempted, but somewhere in the back of my mind was a small ball of doubt. I knew I found this man attractive, but I didn't really know him, and something about him still bothered me. Obviously, he radiated danger, but that fascinated me. What finally stopped me from giving in was the fact that sometimes I felt Blake's actions didn't ring true, almost like he was acting a part. Now and then he came across as a fake. He knew I was aroused, so he was shocked when I moved out from under him, slowly rose and straightened my clothing. I didn't owe him an explanation, but I said, “Sorry, pal, but I don't believe in mixing business with pleasure. Now just isn't the right time for this.”
He didn't look pleased. “You may be right. You're a hard woman to figure. I think the only reason I put up with you is because you remind me of my mother. She was a tough cookie like you. Once we finish this job, I plan to discuss this again.”
On the drive home, I wondered which had more to do with my decision—my mistrust of Blake, or Kit. Thinking about his reaction to my decision not to take part, I had to admit it wasn’t a turn-on that I reminded him of his mother.
I woke up the following morning still groggy from the wine. I hadn't drunk that much, and a hangover was not normal for me. If I'd been with a stranger, I'd wonder if I'd been mildly drugged. I couldn't imagine Blake resorting to that, especially since we were planning a job together, so I put the thought out of my mind and decided to see if jogging before beginning my day would help to clear my head. I needed to get back to my normal jogging schedule, anyway. Lately I'd been finding excuses to be lazy. I forced myself through a five-mile run and arrived home hot and sweaty but feeling better. After a quick shower, I was ready to concentrate on work. It was two days until the darkest night of the month, which was the night Blake had picked for searching the church, so I would use those days productively. Today I would begin putting together a plan to trap Devon Cantwell, and I knew that all good traps needed bait. Of the two remaining people I believed Devon planned to kill, I thought the priest was the most level-headed. I didn't plan to put him in harm's way, but I would use his name and location to trap Devon.
The first step would be to get Father Bartholomew's permission to proceed. I wanted to keep him out of town and use a decoy to play his part, and I knew just the right person for the job. Once I had that set up, I'd find a way to alert Cantwell of the priest's supposed whereabouts. Hopefully, that would get him motivated to attack. If we caught him attempting murder, that would give the police an excuse to search his place, where they would find all the evidence needed to convict him. I called the priest's cell number but didn't get an answer. I left a message asking him to call me as soon as possible. I needed to get my plan ready to go by the following week if I were going to have a chance of keeping John uninvolved. That would be several days after Blake's job, so I could concentrate completely on Devon and should still be able to settle things before John could get organized to go after him on his own.
Next, I called Arnie Flagen. Since he knew everything I knew about Devon and had been watching him for some time, I thought he would be willing to pose as the priest. He'd want to be paid handsomely for it, but he was capable of taking care of himself and would be able to help me capture the man. He wasn't the least bit concerned about the risk, but the fee he wanted for the job was even more than I'd imagined. I had no choice but to agree. If I could get Father Bartholomew on board, we could put everything in motion and be ready for whenever Devon showed up. Arnie would get one of his men to keep watch, so we'd know in advance when he was on the way. With a plan in place, I could attend to my other duties while I waited for the priest to call.
It was almost four when my private phone finally rang. Expecting to hear Father Bartholomew's voice, it took me a moment to recognize the caller as Roland Defrain. I said, “I'm surprised to hear from you so soon. How are you feeling?
“I've felt better, but I've mended enough to get out and about. I wanted to arrange a time and place where we can get together for the exchange. I know you can't read the book and must wonder why someone was willing to kill for it, but I can't explain. I would tell you who the shooter was if I knew, but I don't, so we’ll just have to be a lot more careful this time. You might want to bring a different car. I'll make sure I'm not being followed, and I'm taking precautions that my conversations aren't being bugged or my movements observed.”
“You can pick a time and location. Believe me, I'm as anxious to make the trade as you are. You're wrong about the book, though. I was able to read it. The writing in that thing is some fancy optical illusion, but my eyes worked it out. I didn't bother reading more than a couple of pages, though, because it's all mumbo jumbo. I have no idea why it's valuable and I don't care. I would like to get my hands on the person who shot you, but if you're sure you don't know their identity, I don't have any way to find them. When do you want to meet?”
There was a minute of absolute quiet on the line before Defrain said, “I can't tell you how surprised I am you could read the book. I've only met one other person that could, and he's deceased. I hope we get the chance to talk about that later, but right now making the exchange is paramount. Let's do it this weekend. I think this time we should use a public place. How do you feel about the main library at one on Saturday?”
“That works for me. I'll have the book in a plain black laptop case. When you sit down at my table, I'll switch cases with you.”
“That should work. I'll see you Saturday.”
I decided on a light supper and an early night. With Blake's job, the book exchange, and dealing with Devon Cantwell, I had some busy days coming up. By the time I went to bed, I still hadn't heard from the priest.
The clock said twelve-thirty when I sat up in bed, wide awake. I was still shaking from the dream I'd been having. It was the next sequence of my time with Alice and Clive. If the dream had completed, Clive would have raped me for the first time. I couldn't believe I was awake. Always before, the dreams had run their full course before I could stop them. Then the phone rang. It was late for a phone call, but no matter who it was, I was grateful for their timing because the ringing phone had to be the reason I'd awoken. When I answered, Father Bartholomew said, “I'm sorry to call so late, Miss Weldon, but when I got your message, I thought it might be an emergency. I've been helping at another church and just this minute got back.”
“The time isn't a problem, Father. I'm glad you called, but I thought we'd agreed you'd call me Tavia.”
“Sorry, you're right, we did.”
“I called you earlier because I need to talk to you about a plan to catch Devon Cantwell to keep him from hurting anyone else. I don't want to go into it on the phone, so I thought if you had some free time tomorrow afternoon, I’d drive down so we could talk.”
“It must be important if you're willing to drive to Tucson. Any time you can get here will be fine. I can arrange my schedule as needed.”
“Okay, it takes about three hours to get there from my house. I'll plan to be at your office about one.”
“One will be fine, but come to the parish house next door. I'd rather not talk about Devon where anyone can overhear, and there are always people wandering around the church and my office.”
When we finished our conversation, I had a little trouble getting back to sleep, but when I finally did, I slept dream free.
I woke a little later than usual, so I didn't have a lot of time before I needed to leave. I wanted to get to Tucson closer to twelve than one. All my favorite Mexican restaurants were there, and I'd visited the priest rather than conduct my business over the phone so I'd have a chance to visit one of them. Today was a free day and a good time to make the trip. Before leaving, I made time to call someone I hadn't thought of for ages. I had been wracking my brain for someone I'd trust to help me stop dreaming about my past. I vividly remembered the day I'd been rescued from that house. Everyone there and everyone at the station and then the hospital where they took me had been horrified by the things that had happened to me. All they could talk about was my terrible past. Everyone but one. Evelyn Voss seemed to have a different view when she’d introduced herself at the hospital, handed me a card, and said, “Your life starts now, so use it wisely.” With that, she'd smiled and walked away. Rather than horrified or filled with pity, she seemed genuinely happy for me. She must have impressed me, because when I'd transferred the information from my business cards to my computer, I had recorded Evelyn's information. The title on the card was “Life Consultant.” I didn't know for sure what that meant, but the card also said appointments were available.
When I dialed the number, I'd expected to get a secretary or find out she was no longer in business, but even after all this time, I immediately recognized the voice that answered. I said, “I'm sure you don't remember me. My name is Tavia Weldon, and I think I need an appointment.”
There was a smile in her voice when she said, “Actually, I remember you. You are a hard person to forget. When would you like to meet?”
“I'm kinda tied up for the next two weeks. Do you have any time the Monday after that?”
“I have a ten o'clock or a two-thirty. Which would be best for you?”
“Since I have a choice, I'll take the two-thirty. Thanks for fitting me in.”
“I'm glad you called. I'll see you in a couple of weeks.”
With that settled, I put my dream problem on a back burner and got to work on the things that needed doing. I didn't have anything to prepare for my meeting with Defrain, so I spent the time on the drive to Tucson trying to work on the details for trapping Devon, but my mind kept drifting to the Blake job. Eventually I gave up on Devon for the moment and spent the bulk of the drive deciding how to handle things for the upcoming church job.
My first stop when I reached town was a huge meal at my favorite Mexican restaurant. I am convinced that Tucson has the best Mexican food in the whole country. I wasn't disappointed this time either, and while I ate, I didn't think about anything but how good the food was. I'd gotten lucky because green corn tamales were in season. Later, as I pulled up in front of the small strip mall church where I was to meet the priest, I wondered if he would continue being so helpful if he knew I was planning to rob a different Catholic church. I would try not to think about that when we talked.
I located Father Bartholomew in a small office behind the sanctuary rather than at the parish house next door, but he seemed content to talk there since no one was around. I didn't see anyone else in the church the whole time I was there and couldn’t help wondering what the priest did all day. This church was far different from the huge, ornate place Blake was planning to rob. I felt more comfortable here with this priest's simple honesty. We’d barely said hello before he said, “Where do you stand on putting a stop to the killer?”
Seeing how worried he was, I also skipped the chit-chat and said, “I've been having him watched to be sure he hasn't been stalking anyone. Now I have a plan to bring his career to a close.”
“Wonderful! I've been waiting to hear this news. How can I help?”
When I'd explained what I had planned, he smiled. “I will be at this church for three more weeks. As long as you plan to trap him with your decoy before I return, I'll do anything you need. By all means feel free to use my name. I do appreciate that you asked my permission, since I know you didn't have to.”
“I'm going to put an article about your return from Rome in the next edition of a small local paper that comes out day after tomorrow. Once he sees it, I don't think he'll be able to resist acting, and I plan to make sure he sees it. I'll let you know as soon as the police take him into custody.”
We talked a little longer, but I was soon on the road driving home. As I drove, I went over the whole thing again in my mind, and I couldn’t see any way the priest would be in danger. I sincerely hoped everything went according to plan because Father Bartholomew deserved some peace of mind.
Soon I'd be done with Blake's job and then I could meet Defrain and get rid of the troublesome book. Dealing with John's serial killer would be all I had left on my plate. I was beginning to look forward to getting back to living my life. The things I had left to do sounded like a lot, but I thought I'd have them over and done in a couple of weeks. It was about ten seconds later that I remembered I also had to figure out who was trying to kill me. Getting back to living my life might not be as easy as I’d hoped.