She looked away and concentrated on putting butter on her cold toast as though suddenly hungry.

“Look Nick, about last night…”

“I hope you don’t think I was trying to take advantage of you. I mean, you did have a lot to drink.”

She glanced at him. He leaned forward, his entire face serious. He was genuinely concerned. Had last night meant more to him than his ordinary trysts with women? Something made her want it to mean more, but she said, “I think it’s best if we just forget last night ever happened.”

He looked wounded, a slight grimace, then that same intensity.

“What if I don’t want to forget? Maggie, I haven’t felt like that in a long time. I can’t-”

“Please, Nick, I’m not some naive waitress. You don’t have to feed me some line or pretend-”

“It’s not a line. Yesterday when I thought you were leaving and I’d never see you again, I felt as if someone had punched me in the gut. And then last night. Jesus, Maggie, you turn me inside out. I get all weak-kneed and tongue-tied. Believe me, that doesn’t usually happen with me and women.”

“We’ve been spending a lot of time together. We were both exhausted.”

“I wasn’t that exhausted. And neither were you.”

She stared at him. Had it been that obvious how much she had wanted him? Or was it simply his ego?

“What did you expect to happen, Nick? Are you disappointed you’re not able to add one more name to your list of conquests?” She glanced around them. No one seemed to notice her angry whispers.

“You know that’s not what this is.”

“Then maybe it’s simply the thrill of being forbidden. I am married, Nick. It may not be the best marriage in the world, but it still means something. Please, let’s just forget about last night.” She stared at her coffee, feeling his eyes on her.

“Here’s your toast and coffee,” Angie interrupted, and Maggie found no relief in ending the subject. Maybe she didn’t want to forget it, either.

Angie set the plate and cup in front of Nick, forcing him to sit back, though his eyes stayed on Maggie. She wondered if the pretty waitress could feel the tension.

“Can I get you anything else?” she asked only Nick.

“Maggie, do you need anything?” He purposely drew attention to Maggie, and Angie immediately looked embarrassed.

“No, thanks.”

“Okay,” Angie said, now anxious to make an exit.

There was an awkward moment of silence.

“You said Judge Murphy is hedging on the rectory warrant. Why?” Maggie tried to focus, still avoiding his eyes and pouring more sugar into her coffee. She waited out his silence, then finally she heard a sigh of resignation.

“Murphy and my dad come from a generation that believe you just don’t mess with Catholic priests,” he said, slathering his toast with quick, jerky swipes of butter.

“So is a warrant even possible?”

“I tried to convince him that it’s Ray Howard we’re after.”

“You still trunk it is Howard.”

“I don’t know.” He pushed the toast aside without taking a bite and scratched at his bristled jaw. She noticed the bandage again.

“What did you do to your hand?”

He stared at it for a moment as though he couldn’t remember.

“It’s no big deal. Look,” he said, leaning toward her again, and she could smell the faint hint of his aftershave lotion though he obviously hadn’t shaved. Behind the exhaustion in his eyes, Maggie could see the beginning panic he was so desperately trying to hide. Suddenly, she realized he was waiting for her attention.

“Sorry,” she said, putting down the spoon, folding her arms and giving him her attention.

“Father Keller told me last night that Ray Howard left the seminary last year. While I was waiting on Murphy I did some checking. Howard was at a seminary in Silver Lake, New Hampshire. It’s just across the border to Maine and less than five hundred miles from Wood River.”

Now he did have her attention. She sat up and stared at him.

“How long was he there?”

“The last three years.”

“Well, that rules him out on the Wood River murder.”

“Maybe, but isn’t that just a little too strange of a coincidence? Three years in the seminary, he should know a little about administering last rites.”

“Was he here during the first murders?”

“I’m having Hal check it out. But I did talk to the head guy at the seminary. Father Vincent wouldn’t give me the details, but he did say Howard was asked to leave due to improper conduct.” He said it as if it were some sort of proof.

“Improper conduct at a seminary could be anything from breaking a vow of silence to spitting on the sidewalk. I don’t know, Nick. Howard just doesn’t seem sharp enough to pull this off.”

“Maybe that’s what he wants everyone to believe.”

Maggie watched Nick fold his paper napkin over and over again, his fingers revealing his internal turmoil. Underneath the table, she heard his foot nervously tapping.

“Both Howard and Keller would have had the opportunity to get rid of Father Francis.”

“Jesus, Maggie. I thought you believed that only because you were drunk last night. You really don’t think it was an accident?”

“Father Francis told me yesterday morning that he had something very important to tell me. I know someone was listening in on our conversation. I could hear the click.”

“So maybe it’s a coincidence.”

“I learned a long time ago that there are few coincidences. An autopsy might show whether he was pushed or whether he simply fell.”

“Without any evidence, we can’t just order an autopsy.” Nick fidgeted with the cellular phone, and Maggie could feel his restlessness.

“Maybe I can talk to Father Francis’ family. Or the archdiocese.”

“Thing is, Maggie, we don’t have time to wait for permission or for autopsies or even search warrants. I’d like to just scare the living crap out of Howard.”

She couldn’t believe he still thought it was Howard. Or was it simply his desperation, grabbing for easy answers. Instead of arguing, she said, “Whether it’s Howard or Keller, we need to be very careful. If he panics…”

She stopped herself, remembering this was Timmy, Nick’s nephew, they were talking about and not an anonymous victim. She hadn’t shared with Nick her discovery of the killer’s acceleration. She glanced at him and saw the realization there in his eyes. Somehow he already knew.

“We don’t have much time,” he said as though reading her mind. He was getting good at it. “He’s speeding things up, isn’t he?”

She nodded.

“Let’s get out of here.” He threw a wad of bills on the table without counting it out and wrestled back into his jacket, waiting while she did the same.

“Where are we going?”

“I need to impound a pickup, and you need to apologize to Father Keller for last night.”

Chapter 61

Father Keller looked quite official this time when he answered the rectory door, still dressed from morning mass. However, Nick immediately noticed the white Nikes peeking out from under the black floor-length cassock.

“Sheriff Morrelli, Agent O’Dell. I’m sorry, but this is a surprise.”

“Can we come in for a few minutes, Father?” Nick rubbed his hands together to ward off the cold. Although the sun had made its first appearance in days, the piles of snow and sharp wind kept the temperature well below freezing. Even for Nebraska, this was unusual Halloween weather.

Father Keller hesitated. At first, Nick thought he’d protest as he glanced at Maggie, checking to see if it was safe to let her in. Then he smiled and moved away from the door, leading them into the living room where a fire blazed in the grand fireplace. Only this morning there was a faint scent of something scorched-something not meant to burn. Immediately, Nick wondered if Keller was trying to hide something.

“I’m not sure how I can be of help to the two of you. Last night-”