“Love you, Emmy. You did an awesome job. Let me know what you uncover on Sofia Sanchez.” His face beamed as he listened to his wife tell him how much she loved and missed him. “Oh, almost forgot, Garth says thanks and sends his love. Talk to you later, honey.”

“You are a lucky man, my friend.” Garth lounged in one of the leather chairs. 

“Don’t think I don’t know that. Emmy is a special woman. I just wished she’d come with me when I travel like this.” Hank sighed. “When she gave up her detective badge, she meant it, I guess. Prefers relaxing in the sun.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t we all? Well, maybe not you. You retired and became a PI.” Garth chuckled. “Can’t keep you in one spot, now, can we?”

“Guess not. Curiosity killed the cat, and it might get me someday, but I hope not.” Hank sat in the chair opposite Garth. “Where’s Liz?”

“She went to make coffee, I think. In the meantime, I haven’t filled you in on what brought me to Hayden. I didn’t expect to run into your ugly mug.” Garth chuckled.

“Yes, that was some entrance you made. Allie was aware of your presence.” A devilish grin stretched across Hank’s face. “Might be a few sparks nipping at your heels.”

“Girl’s got spunk, that’s for sure. I don’t know many that would have been willing to go undercover like she has.”

“So, tell me what brought you and your crew here.”

“We raided a drug house in Columbia, and two of the men were from this area. We put some heavy pressure on them, but they refused to talk. One of Chicago’s best defense lawyers, Terrance Rossi, arrived before they ever asked for an attorney. He doesn’t work for peanuts, and these men couldn’t afford him.” 

Garth paused for a moment, stared off into space, then continued, “The Director sent the team out here to see what we could find on Mason Caldwell and Jack McKinley. Somebody big is behind the drugs.”

“What kind of nonsense is that, Garth? You can’t believe that Jack had anything to do with drugs. His younger brother died of an overdose at seventeen.” Hank’s nostrils flared, his eyebrows arched, and his face flushed red with anger. Towering above Garth, he growled, “Tell me you aren’t buying any of this nonsense?” 

Cynthia tapped on the open study door. “Sorry to interrupt…”

“Woman, don’t you ever knock before entering a house?” Hank snarled. His body language spoke for him as he stepped toward the window.

Garth sucked in air and expelled it. Cynthia’s outstretched hands held a lemon meringue pie. “I was bringing… I didn’t mean…”

Garth took a quick look at Hank’s rigid stance before moving toward Cynthia. He offered a slight shrug and a smile before placing his hand on her back, easing her into the front room. “I believe you’ll find Liz in the kitchen. She was going to make coffee.”

“Sure.” Cynthia took a quick look back at Hank and then back at Garth. “Tell him I’m sorry.” She made a sheepish smile. “I wasn’t eavesdropping or anything. I just wanted to bring the pie.” Garth nodded and nudged her toward the hallway. Cynthia headed toward the kitchen, leaving Garth to wonder how much she’d heard.

Garth entered the study and shut the door. Hank was still standing near the window with his hands shoved into the pockets of his designer jeans. “Hank, you know I’m just doing my job. If Jack’s death was murder, it raises a lot of questions. Was he involved, or did he discover something? I am hoping we will get some answers from Cassidy.”

Hank turned and stared at Garth. He rubbed his temples and sat down in the chair. “Jack’s innocent, and that’s all I am going to say. I don’t care to discuss it.” He took a prescription bottle from his pocket, tipped two pills into his hand, and tossed them into his mouth. He grimaced as the bitter taste coated his throat. “What do you make of Sofia using someone else’s social security number? Do you think Caldwell or Miguel are behind any of it?”

“I’d say she never applied for one, but the two men we arrested had illegal ones, too. We haven’t been able to tie anything together yet, but it’s another piece in the puzzle.”

The study door opened, and both men shot a glare at the intruder. “It’s just me.” Liz smiled and set the serving tray on the coffee table. “Sorry, guys, but I had company in the kitchen. Cynthia brought…”

“A lemon meringue pie,” Hank laughed. “I am surprised she left it after I bit her head off. That woman never knocks.” All three laughed. Liz passed the coffee cups to each of them and settled into a chair. “Maybe you will enjoy Cynthia’s pie more than you do her.” Liz grinned at them. “Please help yourselves.”

****************

Mason Caldwell entered the church foyer. His eyes squinted as he looked around the dimly lit church. Baskets of pink and red carnations, lavender, and stargazer lilies adorned the altar area. A large version of the New American Bible was open on the pulpit. Tall intricate gold candlesticks stood on the altar with small baskets of pink and purple hyacinths, tea roses, and white baby’s breath at their base. Mason inhaled the fragrant aroma as it drifted into the foyer.

Assured that no one was in the church, he dipped his fingers in the bowl of Holy Water, made the sign of the cross, and strolled toward the front pews. His eyes shifted from side to side, checking the benches and confirming that he was alone. He stopped at the rows of candles and struck a match. His nose wrinkled at the smell of sulfur as he lit one. He whispered a brief prayer.

A muffled cough from the large, impressive mahogany cabinet on his left caught his attention. A soft yellow glow filtered through the latticed door. Mason checked his watch. 4:45 PM. It was the appointed time. Once again, he surveyed the church before walking to the confessional. With one last sideways glance, he pulled open the door and entered.

Jon’s breathing filtered through the curtained screen. It was heavy and interrupted by quick gasps. Mason smiled at the priest’s discomfort.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.” Mason made the sign of the cross as he spoke. “My last confession was...”

Jon pulled the small forest green curtain aside. His voice quivered, and his eyes remained forward towards the door. “Let’s just get this over with, please. You mock the church in the eyes of God.”

“Me?” Mason grunted in disbelief. “You willingly entered this sea of iniquity, Father. Holy robes do not cleanse you of your sins.” Mason growled. “But fine, why waste my time.” He reached inside his suit jacket and pulled out two pictures, and slid them through the opening beneath the screen.

Jon’s hands quivered as he lifted the pictures off the shelf. He recognized both girls from this afternoon’s shipment. He squeezed his eyes closed, made the sign of the cross, and touched his rosary to his lips.

A menacing laugh filtered through the screen from Mason’s side, causing the priest to quiver. In the dimly lit cavity, Mason’s cold eyes resembled a cunning wolf crouching beneath the moonlight. “You received our precious cargo this afternoon, correct?”

Jon gulped as fear strangled his throat. His mumble was barely audible. “Ye...es.”

“Miguel exchanged and shipped the barrels?”

Jon’s head bobbed in response. “Was that a yes, Jon?” Mason chuckled, imagining the sweat beading across Jon’s brow.

“Yes. It went as you directed.” A heavy sigh escaped the priest’s lips. He dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief crumpled in his hand.

“Good. Pedro will pick up the two girls tonight at 10 PM. Tomorrow night, he will move the others after they complete their job.”

“Where will they go?” Jon twisted his rosary between his fingers.

“That’s not your concern. You are on a need-to-know basis.” Mason’s voice was ominous. “Just do as you’re told. We’re done.” He opened the door without another word. The click-clack of steel cleats on Mason’s boot heels thrust knives into Jon’s soul. 

The priest leaned forward and buried his face in his trembling hands. “Oh, Merciful Lord, pity my soul.” He wept at what he’d become.