Unholy Shepherd, Robert Christian [fastest ebook reader TXT] 📗

“I believe it would be my duty to lead them on the righteous course,” he answered.

“And by that, you mean make them go to the police with the information?”

“I can only lead. I can’t force them to follow.”

“You’re a priest. Don’t people usually do what you tell them to? Aren’t they afraid they’ll go to Hell if they don’t?”

“My view of the priesthood is not to dictate. Every sheep in a flock requires something different. For some, they need their shepherd to be a hard-handed disciplinarian. Others seek to unburden themselves in the confessional, and that is enough for them. Still more just need the love and understanding that our Lord can provide. But, if pressed, yes, in that specific situation you have just described to me, I would indeed encourage them to take their information to the authorities. And if I believe they do not intend to, you may rest assured that I will personally speak with your young Mr. Benitez.”

“He’s not mine!” she blurted out before she could stop herself.

“Maureen,” he said softly, “take it from an old man who knows. The worst thing one can do is throw away something that could be wonderful simply because of fear.”

Maureen didn’t have any words. Her and Manny? Sure, she’d come around to the idea that he was her friend, but any more than that? Impossible.

“It looks like you have some other people who want to talk to you,” she said to the priest, nodding in the direction of a man and woman standing behind him.

“I got the address, I’ll see you Wednesday,” she said as she walked down the steps.

Maureen ambled down Main Street back toward her apartment, her thoughts consumed by the old man’s words. What did he see between herself and the detective? Whenever the priest spoke to her, it always seemed like he could peer right through her into the parts that she kept from the world. She didn’t understand how he did it, and why it bothered her and made her feel safe in equal measure. She admitted to herself, as she turned off Main and headed south toward her building, that she was most likely going to have to go through with having dinner with the man.

Manny was sitting on the tailgate of his truck waiting for her as she walked up. He had a half-finished bottle of soda in his hand and another unopened one next to him.

“I came back around 10:30 and you weren’t here,” he said, standing and handing her the unopened bottle. “What were you doing?”

“I just needed to go for a walk,” she said. “You know, clear my head a little.”

“Well I was banging on your door for ages,” he replied. “So here.” He reached into his pocket and brought out a small, red flip phone. He grabbed her free hand and pressed the phone into it.

“What’s this?” she asked, surprised.

“Well, if I’m going to start letting you out of my sight from time to time, I’m going to need to be able to get a hold of you. So I went home quickly and got my personal phone. I mainly use my work cell anyway, so there probably won’t be anyone but me calling you on this one. And you can get a hold of me, too, if you need. My work cell is speed dial two.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” She didn’t know what else to say, so she gave him her best approximation of a grateful smile and slipped the phone into her jeans. Then, to drive the point home, she cracked open the bottle he’d given her and took a big sip of cola.

“And sorry,” he said. “About the soda, I mean. I was so full after brunch that I didn’t think to grab you any actual food.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she told him. “I can hold out until dinner.”

“Well, good news there, my ma gave us a heaping plate of her famous empanadas.”

“That was nice of her, I guess.”

“Yeah, she gets really into cooking when she thinks I have a girlfriend.”

“But you told her you don’t, right?” She was taken aback by how much her heart rate had climbed at the mention of that word.

“Take it easy, I just told her a little bit about you on the phone the other day, and she got carried away. Don’t worry, I set her straight this morning.”

Maureen stared at him for a moment. His posture mirrored the awkward conversation and she assumed she looked no better.”So, I’ll just pop up and get myself some clean clothes?”

“Right. And I’ll just wait here.”

Not daring to say another word, Maureen turned and dashed inside and up the flight of stairs to her apartment. She felt her face flush, and her heart was still pounding as she entered. Tossing her empty cola bottle onto the couch, she made her way over to her bed. The pillowcase with her clothes inside was lying at its foot, where she had left it that morning. She knelt down and pulled a duffel bag out and rummaged around for more clean clothes, placing them on the bed. She then pulled out the dirty clothes from the pillowcase and shoved them into the duffel.

Last of all, she pulled out Manny’s pistol. For the first time since she had taken it from his dresser, she examined it closely. The manufacturer’s name was etched into the coal-colored barrel. Browning. The grip was the standard brown, cross-etched style. She’d fired several guns like this one over the years at shooting ranges in the backwoods of some hick town. She’d never owned a gun in her own right, but she knew how to handle one, even if she wasn’t a proficient marksman.

Besides, you don’t have to be accurate if it’s your own head you’re firing at.

The glum thought overtook her as she tucked the pistol into the bottom of her duffel and slid the bag back under the bed. If things took a bad turn as she