ask you some questions. Sister Mary has been so helpful,” she said.
Not quite the truth…
“We don’t know a thing,” Tom said. “Father Byrne was just the priest here, saying mass.”
Sarah kept a half-smile on her face. “I understand. But we’re trying to piece together what happened, that morning. His good friend … is so — well, concerned.”
Sarah waited a moment to let them think on how they might react next. She guessed that Tom — at least — may have figured out that they might be acting prickly, even suspiciously.
And after the pause … Sarah continued.
“Father Byrne ran by the stables each morning, right where you stay.”
No flicker of reaction.
“Did either of you see him on that last morning?”
Tom was quick to answer. “No, we were … having breakfast with Gustav.”
Not what Gustav said.
Someone is lying.
She turned to the woman. “And Isabel, you too heard nothing? You also were having breakfast?”
The French woman nodded, then shook her head. “No. I heard nothing. I was with Tom and Gustav. We were talking…”
Completely unconvincing.
“And did you ever have any conversations with Father Byrne?”
“We d—” Isabel started.
But Tom was again faster. “No. He served mass. As I said,” he looked at Isabel, “he said daily mass for the community here. We went to mass. That is all we know about your Father Byrne…”
Sarah nodded.
Not only had they nearly tripped up in their last answer, but now Tom, in his forceful American way, was trying to shut this conversation down.
And maybe … for now … that was okay.
Something was up here.
And even if she didn’t have a clue, Sarah knew that one way or the other, she’d have to find out more about the trio of retreaters whose stories don’t fit together at all.
“Thanks,” Sarah said simply as she looked around.
Better to dispel — if she could — any feeling they might have of being threatened.
“Enjoy the rest of your retreat.”
“We will,” Tom said, answering for the two of them, and then they continued walking away while Sarah watched.
And when they turned the corner of the path, heading to the stables — and surely a report to Gustav — Sarah slid out her phone.
Jack would find this all very interesting.
*
She kept walking as she talked to Jack on the phone, making sure no one was nearby, nobody within earshot.
“What do you think, Jack?”
“Dunno. I mean, they could just be two odd birds. But from what you describe, they sure seemed to act suspiciously.”
“And their answers? The American was so quick to answer, but Isabel stumbled on my question about any chats with Byrne.”
“Yes, and there’s their supposed breakfast all together?”
“Right,” Sarah said. “Which Gustav has no memory of.”
“Do you think you can find out anything about them?”
“Can try. You know Jack — I did have this one other thought. Something I find a little strange.”
“Yes?”
“They’re from three different countries. I mean, I suppose such things happen. Germany, France, US. And yet Tom and Isabel — when I first saw them talking — it really seemed like they knew each other.”
“And yet Gustav said that they all stayed by themselves.”
“Or so he wants everyone to think.”
For a moment, Jack said nothing. Sarah had reached her car, and she had to salvage some work time this afternoon.
This detective stuff was fun, exciting; but doing it for free didn’t pay the bills.
“Jack, what are you thinking?”
“Yes. Um, I’m thinking … I’m going to do something.”
“Which is?”
He laughed. “Remember the phrase ‘plausible deniability’?”
And that made her laugh as well. “Yes. If I don’t know something…”
“Right. You can’t be implicated. So if I should do something a tad … illegal.”
Funny, Sarah thought.
Jack was about as much “by the book” as any person she had ever met.
And yet he would — if it was important — take steps
Not quite the truth…
“We don’t know a thing,” Tom said. “Father Byrne was just the priest here, saying mass.”
Sarah kept a half-smile on her face. “I understand. But we’re trying to piece together what happened, that morning. His good friend … is so — well, concerned.”
Sarah waited a moment to let them think on how they might react next. She guessed that Tom — at least — may have figured out that they might be acting prickly, even suspiciously.
And after the pause … Sarah continued.
“Father Byrne ran by the stables each morning, right where you stay.”
No flicker of reaction.
“Did either of you see him on that last morning?”
Tom was quick to answer. “No, we were … having breakfast with Gustav.”
Not what Gustav said.
Someone is lying.
She turned to the woman. “And Isabel, you too heard nothing? You also were having breakfast?”
The French woman nodded, then shook her head. “No. I heard nothing. I was with Tom and Gustav. We were talking…”
Completely unconvincing.
“And did you ever have any conversations with Father Byrne?”
“We d—” Isabel started.
But Tom was again faster. “No. He served mass. As I said,” he looked at Isabel, “he said daily mass for the community here. We went to mass. That is all we know about your Father Byrne…”
Sarah nodded.
Not only had they nearly tripped up in their last answer, but now Tom, in his forceful American way, was trying to shut this conversation down.
And maybe … for now … that was okay.
Something was up here.
And even if she didn’t have a clue, Sarah knew that one way or the other, she’d have to find out more about the trio of retreaters whose stories don’t fit together at all.
“Thanks,” Sarah said simply as she looked around.
Better to dispel — if she could — any feeling they might have of being threatened.
“Enjoy the rest of your retreat.”
“We will,” Tom said, answering for the two of them, and then they continued walking away while Sarah watched.
And when they turned the corner of the path, heading to the stables — and surely a report to Gustav — Sarah slid out her phone.
Jack would find this all very interesting.
*
She kept walking as she talked to Jack on the phone, making sure no one was nearby, nobody within earshot.
“What do you think, Jack?”
“Dunno. I mean, they could just be two odd birds. But from what you describe, they sure seemed to act suspiciously.”
“And their answers? The American was so quick to answer, but Isabel stumbled on my question about any chats with Byrne.”
“Yes, and there’s their supposed breakfast all together?”
“Right,” Sarah said. “Which Gustav has no memory of.”
“Do you think you can find out anything about them?”
“Can try. You know Jack — I did have this one other thought. Something I find a little strange.”
“Yes?”
“They’re from three different countries. I mean, I suppose such things happen. Germany, France, US. And yet Tom and Isabel — when I first saw them talking — it really seemed like they knew each other.”
“And yet Gustav said that they all stayed by themselves.”
“Or so he wants everyone to think.”
For a moment, Jack said nothing. Sarah had reached her car, and she had to salvage some work time this afternoon.
This detective stuff was fun, exciting; but doing it for free didn’t pay the bills.
“Jack, what are you thinking?”
“Yes. Um, I’m thinking … I’m going to do something.”
“Which is?”
He laughed. “Remember the phrase ‘plausible deniability’?”
And that made her laugh as well. “Yes. If I don’t know something…”
“Right. You can’t be implicated. So if I should do something a tad … illegal.”
Funny, Sarah thought.
Jack was about as much “by the book” as any person she had ever met.
And yet he would — if it was important — take steps
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