Heartbreaker

Chapter 32

Laurant found a couple of gowns that would work for the wedding, and after they dropped off the clothes at the cleaners, they drove to the abbey. Noah was in the kitchen eating cold fried chicken with all the trimmings. Nick pulled out a chair for Laurant as he grabbed a chicken leg.

"You should eat something, honey."

Noah’s right eyebrow shot up, and his gaze bounced between Laurant’s flushed face and Nick’s pained expression. Then he burst into laughter. "It took you long enough."

"Don’t start," Nick warned.

"Don’t start what?" Noah asked innocently.

"Nick calls everyone honey," Laurant blurted, feeling like a fool.

"Sure he does," Noah agreed. "He’s been calling Tommy and me honey every chance he gets."

"Let it alone," Nick insisted. "Where is Tommy?"

"He’s in one of the conference rooms with that editor woman."

"What does she want?" Laurant asked.

Noah shrugged. "Beats me."

Nick heard a door close behind him and crossed the kitchen to look out the window. He saw Lorna hurry down the stairs.

"Where did this feast come from?" Laurant asked Noah.

"Noah’s fan club," Tommy answered from the doorway.

Noah grinned. "The ladies like me. What can I say?"

"He’s been doing a little counseling." Tommy shook his head in exasperation.

"Hey, I’m good at it."

Laurant was having trouble looking at her brother. It was Nick’s fault, she knew, because he had planted the ridiculous notion that Tommy would know what happened last night if he looked in her eyes.

"Laurant, I want a word in private with you," Tommy said.

Nick gave her an I-told-you-he’d-know look and turned around. "Tommy, you and I have to talk."

"No," Laurant all but shouted as she pushed the chair back and stood. "What do you want to talk to me about?"

"Lorna was just here."

"What did she want?" Laurant asked. "She has enough news to keep her busy for the next month, what with the fire and Steve Brenner. Is she trying to figure out a way to blame me for all that too?"

"She is writing another article about you, but it doesn’t have anything to do with the fire or Brenner. She wanted confirmation from me. It seems she ran into the banker’s wife, who mentioned the money you borrowed for your store, and one bit of gossip led to another. Damn it, Laurant," he said, his voice shaking with anger, "why didn’t you tell me the trust was gone? All this time, I thought you were fine and I wouldn’t have to worry about you."

Laurant was stunned by Lorna’s audacity. "I had to fill out a financial statement, and I had to explain about the trust in order to get the loan," she cried. "But the banker had no right to tell anyone, not even his wife. That was confidential information. And how dare Lorna poke her nose in my affairs." She took a step toward her brother. "Did you hear what you just said to me? All this time you thought I was fine and you wouldn’t have to worry about me? I’m not ten years old, Tommy, but you can’t seem to get that through your head. The money was gone before I turned twenty-one and could do anything about it. The lawyers took it. Every cent. I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d get upset, and there wasn’t anything you could do."

"Millions of dollars… our grandfather’s hard-earned money gone? When I signed my trust over to them to put with yours I thought…"

Her brother’s expression made her want to cry. He looked devastated. And horribly disappointed in her. He made her feel as though she had squandered the money.

"It wasn’t your sister’s fault," Nick said quietly.

"I know that."

"You’re not acting like you do."

Tommy’s shoulders slumped. "When exactly did you find out the money was gone?" His face was red with the anger he was trying to contain.

"On my twenty-first birthday."

"You should have told your family then. Maybe something could have been done."

Noah knew it wasn’t his place to interfere, but he couldn’t stop himself. He looked Tommy in the eye and said, "What family? From what I’ve gathered, Laurant didn’t have one of those when she was growing up. Who exactly was she supposed to tell?"

"I’m her family," Tommy railed.

"Try to see it her way," Noah insisted. "When you were growing up, you had Nick’s family to help you, and when you joined the priesthood, the church became your new family."

"My sister will always be part of my family."

"She was in Europe, and you were here. You can’t change the way things were. The guilt is making you angry because she was left out in the cold."

Tommy looked tormented. Laurant slowly shook her head and went to him. "That isn’t true. I wasn’t out in the cold. I always knew you were there for me. I knew you were fighting to get me to the United States. Tommy, I always knew you loved me. Please don’t be angry."

He put his arms around her and hugged her. "It just came as a shock, that’s all. Don’t keep things from me, Laurant. Big brothers are supposed to look out for their little sisters, no matter how old they are. Look, let’s make a pact, okay? From now on, we don’t hide anything from each other. If I have to have chemo, I tell you, and if you have a problem, you tell me."

"I don’t expect you to solve my problems for me."

"No, I know you don’t, but you should be able to talk to me about them."

She nodded. "Yes, okay."

"When’s the article going to run?" Nick asked. He was trying to figure out if there was time to stop it.

"It isn’t going to be in the paper. Lorna and I had a little talk."

Noah grinned. "Did you threaten her with the fires of hell?"

Tommy wasn’t amused. "No, I didn’t, but I did talk to her about being jealous of Laurant. She didn’t want to hear my opinions, but she agreed not to run the article. She’s afraid other people will think she’s jealous because she’s gone after Laurant so many times."

"I need a glass of milk," Laurant said. Her stomach was upset, thanks to Lorna, and she hoped the milk would settle it.

"I’ll get it. You go sit down," Tommy offered.

Noah pushed her plate in front of her. "Eat," he suggested.

"Isn’t there anything you can do about those lawyers?" Nick asked her.

"I am doing something."

Tommy poked his head out of the pantry. "What?" he asked.

"I’m suing them."

Her brother grabbed a glass and hurried back into the kitchen.

"You’re suing?"

"Yes," she said. "The day after I found out, I started searching. It took a year to find an attorney who was willing to take on the giants."

"David against Goliath, huh?" Noah said.

"You know, Noah, you’re starting to think like a priest. Maybe you ought to consider joining up," Nick teased.

Noah grimaced. "That isn’t going to happen."

Tommy got the gallon of milk out of the refrigerator and poured some into Laurant’s glass. "But about the suit? What’s happening?"

She took a drink before she answered. "I won the first round and then I won again. They’ve been dragging it out with motions to delay, but my attorney told me that this next round is the last appeal. I should hear something soon. Win or lose, it will be final."

"So, there’s a good possibility you could get the money back."

"It could go either way," she said. "I’m prepared for either outcome."

"No wonder you drive that junky old car," Nick said. "You’ve been living on a shoestring."

He was smiling at her, as though he thought she had done something remarkable.

"I budget like most people do," she said. "And I happen to like my car."

The conversation came to an abrupt end when the sheriff came storming into the kitchen.

"Where the hell is my boy?" he demanded in a snarl. He had his gun half drawn as he shouted, "What have you done with him?"

Nick’s back was to the door, but Noah sat facing the stampeding sheriff. In a heartbeat, his hand reached inside his black robe and pointed the gun under the table at Lloyd. "You pull that weapon out, and you’re a dead man."

Lloyd stopped, frozen in his tracks. He was stunned by this priest who dared to threaten him.

Laurant hadn’t even had time to turn in her chair before Nick had whirled around and drawn his weapon. He was standing now, shielding her, and the barrel of his gun was pressed against Lloyd’s temple.

Tommy came up behind the sheriff and took the gun away from him. Then he calmly suggested that Lloyd sit down and discuss the problem in a reasonable manner.

"I’m the authority here," he bellowed.

"No, you’re not," Nick informed him. He put his gun back in the holster and told the sheriff to do as Tommy had said and sit down. Lloyd chose the chair at the far end of the table. "Give me my gun back."

Tommy handed Nick the weapon, and he quickly unloaded the magazine before he slid the gun toward the sheriff.

"What seems to be the problem?" Tommy asked.

"My boy," Lloyd muttered. "He’s gone missing. That’s what the problem is."

"He’s hiding," Nick told him. "He started that fire, and now he’s hiding."

Lloyd shook his head. "I ain’t gonna get into all that fire business ‘cause you and I see it different from each other. My boy knows he’s got me for his alibi. He wouldn’t think he had to hide. He was in bed, sleeping sound, when I got home from Nugent. I was dead tired," he added. "Up most of the night, and I was just getting myself in bed when the low-life sheriff from Nugent knocked on my door. He said he was gonna take Lonnie and book him on arson. We argued a bit, but then I decided to let the lawyers handle it, and I let him on in. Lonnie weren’t in his bed though, and his window waswide open."

Nick glanced at Noah, who promptly shook his head to let him know he hadn’t done anything with Lonnie.

Nick said then, "Maybe Wesson decided to pick him up."

"That ain’t what happened." The sheriff was whining now. "He’s still with the others cooped up with Brenner in a two-by-four room, questioning him. They wouldn’t let me listen in, didn’t want me to know nothing that was going on. I finally gave up and was heading out the door when I heard they were accusing him of murder. One of the sheriff’s deputies told me they had the goods on him." He took his hat off and rubbed his brow. "It’s all going in the toilet."

"Do you really care what happens to Lonnie?" Noah asked bluntly.

The question flustered the sheriff. Seeing the turmoil in Lloyd’s face, Tommy took over. He dragged a chair to the end of the table and sat down next to Lloyd.

"Your son’s given you a lot of heartache over the years, hasn’t he Lloyd?"

The sheriff’s voice dropped to a whisper. "He ain’t never been right in the head. Never. He’s got a real mean temper."

Tommy coaxed Lloyd to talk, urging him to let go of all the anger and disappointment he’d kept inside for so long, and within minutes the sheriff was spilling his guts, telling him all the problems he’d had to clean up for his son. The list was appallingly lengthy.

"He’s done some terrible things. I know he has, but he’s my son, and I had to protect him. I’m so sick of it. I know I’m supposed to care about the boy, but I can’t, not anymore. I’ve still got to find him because if I don’t and he comes home, he’ll be… upset with me, and I don’t want that to happen. He can forget himself and get violent." He wiped at his eyes as he confessed, "I’m ashamed to admit it, but I’m afraid of my own boy. He’s going to kill me one of these days. He’s come damn close a couple of times already."

"Maybe it’s time Lonnie learned the consequences of his actions," Noah suggested.

"He’ll come after me. I know he will."

"You need time to think about your options," Tommy said. "Why don’t you get in your car and leave Holy Oaks for a week or two, just until things calm down and Lonnie’s behind bars."

The sheriff leapt at the idea. "What will folks say? I don’t want them thinking I’m running away."

"They won’t think that," Tommy said. "You’re entitled to take some time off, aren’t you?"

"Sure, I am," he agreed. "And maybe… just maybe, I won’t never come back. I’ll leave it all here, won’t pack a thing, so my boy won’t think I’m gone for good. Then he won’t come looking for me."

"They’ll catch him and put him behind bars," Noah said. "You be sure to let Father Tom know where you are."

The sheriff was suddenly in a hurry to get out of town. He was walking out the door when he stopped and turned to Laurant. "He’s been skimming money from the very beginning," he said.

"Who?" Laurant asked. "Brenner?"

Lloyd nodded. "He’d tell his backers at Griffen it was gonna cost a hundred grand to buy a store, then offer half that amount to the owner and pocket the difference. He’s got himself an account, but I don’t know where it is. You might want to look into that before the town meeting."

"Yes, I will," she said.

The sheriff turned to leave again, but Nick stopped him. "How deep are you in all of this, Lloyd?"

Lloyd turned away. "I helped him some. I’ll testify against him. Maybe if I help make this right, I won’t have to serve time." He gave Nick a hopeful glance, and then spoke to Tommy. "I’ll let you know where I am. I’ll come back when you call me." He shuffled back like a broken-down old man and placed his gun and badge on the table, then walked out the door. They watched him leave.

"You sure you want to let him go?" Noah asked Nick.

"Yeah, he won’t go far," Nick answered.

Nick tried to get Wesson on his cell phone, but he didn’t answer. Then he tried Feinberg and got his voice mail. His frustration mounted. He kept glancing at his watch. Morganstern should have landed in Houston by now. Why the hell hadn’t he returned his call? Tommy had gone back into the pantry in search of potato chips, and Nick followed him. Laurant heard him tell her brother that he shouldn’t let his guard down until Nick was convinced Brenner was the unsub.

The two stood in the pantry and talked. It appeared that Tommy was doing most of the talking. Laurant was so busy watching the two of them, she didn’t notice that Noah was watching her.

"Stop worrying," he said.

She turned her attention to her food. "I’m not worrying."

"Sure you are. You think Nick’s going to tell Tommy that he slept with you."

She didn’t even think about trying to deny it. She looked into those devilish blue eyes and asked, "Are you always this blunt?"

"Yeah, I am."

"How did you know?"

"The way both of you are avoiding looking at each other. I’ve known Nick a long time," he added. "But I’ve never seen him this uptight. I figure you’re the reason."

She picked up a chicken wing and then put it down. "Nick might tell Tommy."

"You think so?"

"Yes, I do, and Tommy’s going to be upset, being a priest and all."

"Maybe," he shrugged. "But you’re a big girl now, and it really isn’t any of his business."

"He won’t see it that way."

"So how long have you been in love with Nick?"

"How do you know I am?"

He laughed. "I know women."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning I know you’re not the kind of woman who would go to bed with a man unless you loved him. Nick knows that too. You must be scaring the hell out of him now."

"I do scare him. He doesn’t want any of the things I want, but he doesn’t want to hurt me. Last night was a mistake," she whispered. "And now it’s over," she added. She tried to sound as though she’d already moved on, but she knew she’d failed when Noah patted her hand.

"Did it feel like a mistake last night?"

She shook her head. "No, but like you just said, I’m a big girl. I can get on with my life. I’m not so easily shattered."

"No, of course you aren’t."

"You’re humoring me, aren’t you?"

"Uh-huh."

"Let’s talk about something else," she suggested. "Could I ask you something?"

"Sure. What do you want to know."

"How come Wesson dislikes Nick so much?"

"It goes way back," he said.

"But what started the antagonism?" she asked with another quick glance at Nick.

"I guess you could say it was a cat that started the rivalry, although now that I think about it, Nick’s attitude also played a part. He was new to the section, and he thought he knew it all. Morganstern had only just gotten the okay to run the Apostles, and Nick was his second recruit."

"Who was the first recruit?" she asked.

"I was," he answered with an arrogant grin. "Pete was handpicking his agents, getting them from outside and putting them through his own special training program. Wesson was dying to be a part of it. Actually, I think from the very beginning he wanted to run the program, but that wasn’t going to happen."

"Did Wesson become one of Morganstern’s recruits?"

"No. Morganstern didn’t take him in, and that really chafed."

"So that’s what started it?"

"No, it was a cat," he patiently repeated. "There was this particular case. A three-year-old girl was missing, and the FBI was called in. Wesson was on the rotation schedule, and there was no way he was going to let one of Morganstern’s hotshots come in and take over. Wesson wanted to solve the case and solve it quick."

"Did he?"

"No, but Nick did. Here’s what happened. The little girl was with her mother in a department store. The building was real old, with wooden floors that squeaked and groaned when you walked on them, and high plastered ceilings, and big old vents along the baseboards. It was drafty and cold inside. The building was located near the warehouse district and the city market right next to the river. It was a nice little shopping area, all the buildings had been buffed and restored, but there was a problem with rats, and so the owner of this particular family-owned department store kept a cat there."

"Go on," she urged, wanting Noah to finish before Nick and Tommy returned.

"It was around noon on the Saturday before Christmas, and the store was crowded with last-minute shoppers. It was real chaotic and loud, with Christmas music blaring, but one salesclerk happened to notice a man in his midthirties wandering around the store. She thought he might be a shoplifter. He was wearing beat-up old clothes and a long gray raincoat. She said it was dirty and torn. She couldn’t give a great description other than to say he was thin and had a scraggily beard. She told us she was going to call security, but then she saw him heading for the front door, and she thought he was leaving. She was being pulled in twenty different directions by impatient customers.

"A customer in line remembered seeing the man squat down next to the little girl and talk to her. She said the mother had elbowed her way to the counter and was digging through her purse, looking for her charge card, and she didn’t notice her daughter was talking to the stranger. Then the customer said the man got up and walked away."

"Did he take the little girl?"

Noah didn’t answer the question. "Another customer said she almost tripped over the child when she darted out in front of her. The little girl was chasing the cat," he added. "About five or ten minutes later, the mother was frantically searching for her daughter. Everyone was helping, of course, and then the clerk remembered the man in the raincoat, and the customer remembered she’d seen him talking to the child. The security officer called the police while the owner called the FBI. To his credit, Wesson got there fast," he added. "Morganstern got the call from Wesson’s superior and wanted Nick and me to get a little experience, and so he sent us in, but neither one of us could get there until late that night. I came in from Chicago, and Nick caught a plane out of Dallas. He got in about fifteen minutes before I did, rented a car, got a map, and picked me up."

"Wesson wasn’t happy to see you, was he?"

"That’s putting it mildly. It didn’t matter to us though. He didn’t have any authority over us. We reported to Morganstern and no one else. Wesson was extremely reluctant to share what he had with us, and that really pissed… I mean, angered Nick. When he gets mad, his temper’s worse than mine," Noah said with admiration in his voice.

"What did he do?"

"He let Wesson know what he thought of him. Nick could have been more diplomatic, but, anyway, he backed Wesson into a corner, and Wesson told him he had a suspect, and that the situation was under control, which, of course, wasn’t the case. Wesson also went on record as saying that Morganstern’s team was a waste of time and money, and that Nick and I should go home and find real jobs."

"In other words, butt out."

"Yes," Noah said. "Of course, we didn’t care what Wesson thought or wanted. We had a job to do, and we were going to do it with or without his approval. While Nick was looking around, I got one of the other field agents aside and read his notes."

"Was the little girl all right? Just tell me, please. Did you find her in time?"

"Yeah, we did, thanks to Nick," he said. "It was one of those too few happy endings."

"How did he find her?"

"I’m getting to that," Noah said. "Everyone left the store. It was around two in the morning, and it was freezing inside that building. Wesson had set up a command post at the police station a couple of blocks away, and every available man was out on the streets searching for the man in the raincoat. Nick and I were standing on the curb outside the store, trying to figure out what we were supposed to do. The security officer was locking the doors to go home when Nick told him he wanted to go back inside. He convinced the old man to turn the alarm off and give us the keys.

"Both of us went through the building from top to bottom again. We found nothing, so we left. I was driving," he said. "I wasn’t sure where I was headed. I was just trying to clear my mind the way Morganstern taught us, and I remember I had just driven past a hospital when I asked Nick what the hell we were going to do, being squeezed out by Wesson the way we were."

Noah paused to smile and then added, "Nick didn’t say anything. He popped a piece of gum in his mouth, and I figured he was doing the same thing I was trying to do. You know, trying to clear his mind. And all of a sudden, he turned to me and said, ‘So, where’s the cat?’

"We started doing what Morganstern would probably call a little free-associating then. Kids love animals, most do anyway, and a customer had reported she’d seen the little girl chasing after the cat. We both figured out what might have happened then. I was driving like a bat out of hell, trying to get back to the department store as fast as I could, but then I saw the hospital emergency entrance, and I pulled in. Nick and I went running into the emergency room, flashed our badges, and grabbed a doctor who was just going on break. Nick told him he was going with us and to bring his stethoscope with him."

"The little girl was still in the store, wasn’t she?"

"Sure she was," he said. "She went in one of those big old vents after the cat," he explained. "Crawling around on the floor by the walls, no one would have noticed her, as busy and crowded as the store was. The vent didn’t hold her, and she went down two and a half floors and got trapped on a ledge above the basement. The fall should have killed her," he added. "She had hit her head and was unconscious when we finally got to her. The cat stayed with her. We could hear the faint meowing through the stethoscope."

"But she was all right."

He smiled again. "Yeah, she was okay."

"You and Nick must have been jubilant."

"Yeah, we were, but we were also frustrated with ourselves at the same time. Both of us had missed the obvious. We let the guy in the raincoat get in our way," he said. "We should have noticed the vent the girl crawled into was a little bit off-kilter from the others, but we missed it. And we shouldn’t have taken so long to notice the cat was missing."

"You found her within hours of your arrival," she pointed out.

"But if we had been more observant, we could have cut the time in half. We were damn lucky she was still alive. She could have been bleeding down there, and if that had been the case, we would have been too late."

Laurant knew that nothing she could say would change his opinion of his performance.

"Normally, Wesson would have been just as happy and relieved as everyone else," he said.

"He wasn’t?" she asked, surprised.

"He isn’t a monster, or at least he wasn’t back then," he qualified. "But jealousy was eating him up. Sure he was happy the little girl was all right…"

"But?"

"Nick deliberately left him out. He should have told Wesson what he suspected and let him run with the ball." Noah paused for a moment. "Yeah, that’s what he should have done, but I’m glad he didn’t. Tit for tat, as childish as that was. And in his defense, and mine because I backed him, we were young and stupid back then, and neither one of us gave a damn about career politics. We still don’t. Nick had to be sure the kid was there, and so did I. Anyway, Wesson found out about the girl after the fact, from Morganstern. Nick and I were already on our way to the airport. Nick had wanted to prove a point, but he had humiliated Wesson, and ever since then, the mere mention of his name or mine gets the same kind of reaction as pouring salt on an open wound. Neither one of us have had to work with him since, until this case."

Laurant propped her elbow on the table, resting her chin in the palm of her hand. She stared at Noah, but didn’t really see him. She was thinking about the story he had just told her.

Until this moment, there had been a tiny little hope in the back of her mind that Nick would quit his job. And, oh God, how selfish and wrong she had been to want such a thing.

"Life doesn’t have any guarantees, does it?" she said.

"No, you’ve got to grab what you can while you can. Nick’s good at what he does, but he’s burning out. I can see it in his eyes. The stress is going to kill him if he doesn’t get some balance in his life. He needs someone like you to come home to at night."

"He doesn’t want that."

"He may not want it, but he needs it."

"What about you?"

"We aren’t talking about me," he said. "You and Nick are something else, you know that? Being on the outside, observing, it’s really easy to see what’s going on. Want me to enlighten you? I’ll warn you in advance. You won’t like what I have to say."

"Go ahead," she said. "Enlighten me. I can take it."

"Okay," he agreed. "Here’s the way I see it. You and Nick are both trying to alter reality. You’re both running away from life. Don’t argue with me until I’m finished," he told her when he saw she was about to interrupt. "Nick’s trying to close himself up, to distance himself from everyone, even his family, and that’s a big mistake in his line of work. He needs to feel, because that’s the only way he’s going to stay sharp and focused. I can see he’s getting to the point where he doesn’t want to take a chance on feeling anything at all because that would make him too damned vulnerable. If he keeps going this way, he’s going to become hard and cynical. And he sure as hell won’t be any good at his job. Now as for you…"

"Yes?" She straightened in the chair, tense now as she waited to hear his verdict about her.

"You’re doing the same thing, just in a different way. You’re hiding out here in this little town. I know you don’t see it that way, but that’s what you’re doing. You’re more afraid of taking a chance than Nick is. If you don’t put yourself out there, you can’t get hurt. That’s how you view life, isn’t it? And if you keep going this way, you’re going to turn into a bitter, old, dried-up prune, and a coward to boot."

She knew Noah wasn’t deliberately trying to be cruel, but what he had just said devastated her. Was that how he saw her? Laurant shrank back and gripped her hands together. A coward? How could he think she would ever become a coward?

"I don’t believe you understand-"

"I’m not finished. There’s more. Want to hear it?"

She braced herself. "Yes, go ahead."

"I saw one of your paintings."

Her gaze flew to his. "Where?" she asked, astonished. Why did she feel the sudden pang of fear?

"It’s hanging in Tom’s bedroom," he told her. "And it’s one of the most powerful paintings I’ve ever seen. You should be damned proud of it. I’m not the only person who thought it was incredible. The abbot wanted to hang it in the church. Tom told me he stole the painting from you. He also told me that you keep all your paintings wrapped up tight and hidden away in your storage closet so no one can see them. That’s one sure way to beat rejection, isn’t it? It’s safe. Like the kind of life you’re building here. Well, guess what, babe. There’s no such thing as a safe life. Bad things happen, like your brother getting cancer, and there isn’t a damned thing you can do about it. You’re sure trying though, aren’t you? Maybe thirty years from now you’ll have convinced yourself that you’re content with your perfect, safe life, but I assure you, it’s going to be lonely. And by then, the amazing talent you have will probably have dried up."

Laurant shuddered under the weight of the future Noah had just described. He was forcing her to open her eyes and take a hard look at herself.

"You don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Yeah, I do. You just don’t want to hear it." She bowed her head as she mentally argued against his bleak prophecy. Perhaps when she’d first moved to Holy Oaks, she had been running away from life. But it wasn’t like that now. She’d fallen in love with the town and the people, and she had become involved with the community. She hadn’t just sat back and let the world revolve around her.

Noah was right about her painting. She had always considered it too personal to share with anyone else. It was a part of her, and if others saw her work and rejected it, she felt that they would be rejecting her.

She had been a coward. And she would lose what little talent she had if she kept on this path. If she didn’t experience life, how could she possibly translate it onto canvas?

"I don’t throw them away," she admitted hesitantly. "I keep the paintings."

Noah grinned. "So maybe you might want to think about unwrapping them one of these days and letting other people see them."

"Maybe," she said. After a moment’s reflection she looked at him and smiled. "Yes, maybe I should do that."

Noah took his plate to the sink and rolled up his sleeves as he prepared to do the dishes. He was complaining about the fact that the abbot wouldn’t spend the money for a dishwasher while he worked.

Laurant wasn’t paying any attention. She was still lost in thought. Noah had just given her a wake-up call. He’d opened a door for her, and she had the choice of going outside or pulling the door closed again.

When Tommy came back into the kitchen, Noah said, "I told Laurant you took one of her paintings."

Tommy immediately took a defensive stance. "I stole it, and I’m not sorry. You want it back now, don’t you?"

"Which one was it?" she asked. Suddenly, she was very hungry. She took a bite of the chicken and reached for a cold biscuit.

"The only one I could get my hands on," he said. "It was in front of the others in the closet. I didn’t even know what I was taking until I got it home and unwrapped it. And do you know what’s a crying shame, Laurant. It’s the only painting you’ve done that I’ve ever seen. You keep them hidden away, like you’re ashamed of them."

"But which one was it?"

"The kids in the wheat field with all that light shining down on them. I love it, Laurant, and I want to keep it. You know why? Because there’s such joy and hope in it. When I look at it, I see heaven smiling on the children. It’s as though the streams of light are actually God’s fingers reaching down to touch them."

Emotion welled up inside her. She knew that he meant every word he’d said. Joy and hope. What a glorious compliment. "Okay, Tommy. You can keep it."

Her brother looked shocked. "Really?"

"Yes," she answered. "I’m so happy you like it."

Nick wasn’t about to be left out. "Damn it, I want to see it," he said.

"All right," she agreed.

Noah winked at her, and she suddenly felt like laughing. "Yes, I mean it, but I’ll warn you, it’s not one of my best efforts. I can do much better."

Nick’s phone rang, interrupting the conversation. Smiles vanished in a heartbeat, and the atmosphere in the kitchen became tense with anticipation. Nick answered as he walked into the pantry for privacy.

Pete was on the line, and he had stunning news. Tiffany Tara Tyler’s phone had been found in Steve Brenner’s white van, neatly tucked under the front seat. This new evidence put a lock on the case. They had their man.

"Did they find any prints?"

"He wiped it down, but he was a little sloppy," Pete said. "He missed a spot on the bottom of the phone. The tech found what looks like a partial thumbprint next to the metal charger. He thinks it’s going to be enough for a solid match. It looks like they’re about to wrap this one up, Nick."

Nick was shaking his head. "It doesn’t feel right," he said. He paused and then added, "So that’s it. Case closed. Right?"

"Just about," Pete agreed. "There’s other evidence, of course " he said. "But as I understand the situation, Agent Wesson didn’t share what he had collected against Brenner with you."

"How did you know that?"

"I spoke briefly with Agent Farley."

"So Wesson has enough to convict?"

"With the woman’s phone in his car? Yes, he has quite enough."

"That could have been planted."

"We don’t believe that’s the case," he said. "Had you been given information as it was being collected, I think you’d be feeling more confident that Brenner’s our man. You were kept out of the investigation," he added. "And I plan to address that problem with Agent Wesson’s supervisor first thing Monday morning. This will not happen again," he added emphatically. "As for you, I suggest you take Father Tom fishing. Relax a little. God knows, you’ve earned it."

Nick rubbed the back of his neck, trying to ease the knots of tension. He was weary and frustrated. "I don’t know, Pete. My instincts are telling me that this is all wrong. I think maybe I’m losing it."

"Your objectivity?" Pete asked.

"Yeah, I guess. I really did figure it all wrong. Tell me something. They’re running a voice match from the confessional tape and Brenner’s interrogation, aren’t they?"

"Yes, of course they are."

"Brenner hasn’t confessed, has he?"

"No, not yet."

Nick was filled with self-doubt. Maybe he just didn’t want to believe what was staring him in the face. From the very beginning, Wesson had put him in the position of trying to work the case blindfolded. Tiffany’s phone was found in Brenner’s van. That should have clinched it. And yet he still wasn’t convinced.

"Why are you fighting this?" Pete asked. "We’ve had a good result here."

Nick sighed. "Yes, sir, I know. I guess I do need to take some time off. You were right," he finally admitted. "I got too personally involved."

"With Laurant?"

"You saw that coming?"

"Oh, yes."

"Yeah, well, I’ll deal with it. You’ll let me know what the lab results are?"

"Yes " Pete promised. "Give my best to Father Tom and Laurant."

Nick disconnected the call and stood in the pantry for a long minute staring into space. He was trying to work it out in his mind, to go with it, to believe that it was over. He told himself he was trying to make the case more complicated than it was. Some cases were easy. Like this one. Yeah, it was finished. Case closed. They had their man.

And still the nagging doubt wouldn’t go away.