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

right arm hung at his side, weighed down with his own pistol that looked much like Manny’s backup service weapon. He gave her a weak smile as he reached into his pocket. “You ran out before I could stop you,” he said, handing her the clip he had taken from her. “I was worried you wouldn’t be able to properly defend yourself if Father Preston got the jump on you.” He looked over her shoulder at the body of his junior priest and shook his head sadly.

“You followed us here?” Maureen said, still in shock to see the old man, let alone wrap her mind around the fact that he had just saved her life.

Father Patrick nodded. “I felt a certain responsibility to you and the children. Once I had all the facts, I realized I should have seen Preston for what he was. All that time, I ignored that gut feeling that you get when you first meet someone and they seem a little off, you know? I thought he was just a very buttoned-up, young priest who held too strictly to the old Catholic ways. He laid his true soul bare though, didn’t he? Is the boy all right?”

“Yes, it looks like he’s knocked out by the same chemical that Father Preston used on the others, but he’s breathing,” Maureen responded before she had fully processed what he had just said. “Wait, you mean you heard that entire speech and waited that long to shoot him? I should kill you for that!”

“I’m not as young as I used to be,” the old priest replied, his voice full of sadness. “I needed time to make a clean shot.”

Maureen opened her mouth to say something, but there were no words. As angry as she wanted to be at him, she couldn’t do anything except hug him. “Don’t get used to it,” she said as she released her embrace.

The old priest smiled at her.

Maureen went over to pick up the second pistol, and Manny, now moving a little steadier on his feet, came up to them. His eyes were still blinking rapidly to push away the pain, but his voice was strong.

“Is everyone all right?” he asked.

Maureen and Father Patrick assured him that both they and Ben Naismith were all right. He wore his relief like a badge and gathered her in his arms, holding her close. Maureen placed her head to his chest. His heart was beating fast as he kissed the top of her head.

“All right,” said Manny, releasing her and taking his sidearm back, “I admit, I got knocked around pretty hard there, and I was in and out for most of it. So, let’s go over what happened.”

Before Maureen could say anything, Father Patrick spoke up. “I’m afraid I was forced to kill Father Preston. It was, of course, in defense of Maureen and the young boy, but nevertheless, I believe you’ll have to take me in.”

He placed both his hands in front of him while offering Manny his gun. Manny looked apologetically at Maureen before turning to the priest and nodding his head in agreement. He put his pistol in its holster and began reaching around his back for his handcuffs.

“Wait!” Maureen broke in and turned quickly to Manny. “Am I correct in assuming you have to account for every discharge of your service weapon?”

Manny nodded slowly, a suspicious look breaking on his face.

Maureen didn’t let him get any questions out. She ripped his gun from his belt and ran out the side door into the night air. She stopped several paces from the edge of the river and fired a single shot out into the water. A small geyser erupted from the surface, but her eyes stayed on the casing that flew away from the weapon. She picked it up and ran back inside with it.

Father Patrick and Manny had begun to run out behind her and were just reaching the door when she came back. She pushed past them without a word and rushed back to the altar to complete her plan. She rubbed the spent bullet casing on her shirt and let it fall on the ground near Father Preston’s body. Manny and Father Patrick came up behind her a moment later.

“Maureen, what the hell are you doing?” shouted Manny.

“Completing the story,” Maureen said, her eyes still down on the fallen priest.

“What story?” asked Manny.

“The story we’re going to tell to the police.”

“Oh I see,” he said, “and what story would that be?”

“We’re going to tell them everything that happened,” Maureen asserted, “except for one thing. I struggled with Father Preston for your gun, and it went off and killed him. Father Patrick was never here.”

“Maureen, I don’t think—” Manny began.

“He was never here!”

Father Patrick laid a hand on her shoulder. “Maureen, what I’ve done, I was compelled to do by my conscience. But that same conscience also compels me to face the repercussions of my actions. I hoped never to have to take another life for the rest of mine, and now I have. Even though the cause would seem just, I don’t have any divine right to exact this type of punishment, even on someone as far gone as Father Preston. The heavenly court will judge me one day, but the earthly courts should handle my fate now. It would be best if I turned myself in.”

Maureen stared into his eyes. They were unwavering in their resolve. She looked to Manny. He crossed to her and put his hand on her shoulder, taking back his gun from her.

“Father Patrick is right,” he said gently. “Response teams will be here any minute. He’s not going to be able to leave without being seen. It’ll be fine. Father Patrick shot Father Preston to keep him from killing you. Nobody would bring charges against him.”

Maureen turned her head to the priest, who smiled solemnly and nodded his head. He handed his weapon to Manny and took Maureen by the hand. She could think of