head.
Steve let out a frustrated sigh and simply said, “Okay.”
FDLE had set up several large halogen lights, and the entire clearing was lit up like a rescue operation, which made the woods beyond seem even darker, and cast eerie, elongated shadows onto the now trampled ground.
“And I’d like Chaplain Jordan there,” Sister Abigail said.
“
What
?” Steve and I both asked in surprise.
“You’re the one who asked for his help,” she said to Steve. “I’m just saying since he’s been involved from the start and since the victim is your cousin, let him continue at least through your initial interview with Tom.”
I looked at her, my face a question.
“You can handle that, can’t you?” she asked.
“Of course, but I thought you—”
“I asked for his help because there was no one else,” Steve said. “Now I have all the help I need.”
“You don’t question his ability to be objective, do you Steve?” she asked, leveling her gaze onto him.
“Any professional can be objective,” he said, “but he’s no longer a professional.”
“Sure he is, and you know it.”
“But—”
“To avoid even the appearance of impropriety,” she said. “Why are you so resistant to just having him present? I would think you’d want to have every possible—”
“Okay, okay, he can observe, but that’s all.”
While the EMTs finished examining Father Thomas and FDLE finished processing the scene, Sister Abigail, Ralph Reid, and I stepped away from the others.
“I thought you wanted me to avoid things like this for a while?”
“Mitigating circumstances,” she said.
“There always are,” I said. “That’s sort of the point.”
Her eyes narrowed and her expression hardened. “Can you handle it or not?” she said, a new edge accompanying her curt voice.
“I’m just curious about why you changed your mind?”
“There’s no way he killed her,” she said, “and I was afraid they would trick him into saying he did. Not even consider that someone else could’ve done it.”
“You really an attorney?” I asked Reid.
He nodded. “Haven’t practiced in a while, but I’m the real deal.”
“How’d you even know what had happened or where to find us?” I asked.
“Kathryn told me,” he said.
“Where
is
Kathryn?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She just told me to get out here and take care of Father Thomas.”
“She’s probably seen enough for one night,” Sister said.
“Speaking of taking care of Father Thomas,” I said to Sister, “as a defense attorney, that’s his job, but I’m not a defense attorney and I won’t even be acting as one.”
“What’re you saying?”
“I’ll be looking at the evidence, following it wherever it leads.”
“Which is what I want you to do.”
“Even if it points to Father Thomas?”
“Yes, but it won’t.”
“Well,” I said, as the EMTs began to roll Father Thomas out of the clearing and down the path, “we’re about to find out.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cuffed so he couldn’t alter evidence, Father Thomas had been briefly examined at the Bridgeport Medical Center then released back into police custody. He was now being led down the florescent-lit corridor of the police station to the small interview room in the back. When he stepped inside the room, two FDLE techs were waiting for him.
Steve, Ralph, and I, who had been following behind him, stopped at the doorway and waited.
With practiced formality, Steve presented Father Thomas with a document and said, “This is a search warrant.”
“For what?” Father Thomas asked.
“You,” Steve said. “These two lab techs from FDLE are going to gather any physical evidence you have on you.”
Father Thomas looked at Ralph Reid, who nodded.
“I’d like to be present,” Reid said to Steve.
“Sure,” he said. “John and I’ll wait out here.”
Reid joined the others in the small room and Steve closed the door.
“Shouldn’t take too long,”
Steve let out a frustrated sigh and simply said, “Okay.”
FDLE had set up several large halogen lights, and the entire clearing was lit up like a rescue operation, which made the woods beyond seem even darker, and cast eerie, elongated shadows onto the now trampled ground.
“And I’d like Chaplain Jordan there,” Sister Abigail said.
“
What
?” Steve and I both asked in surprise.
“You’re the one who asked for his help,” she said to Steve. “I’m just saying since he’s been involved from the start and since the victim is your cousin, let him continue at least through your initial interview with Tom.”
I looked at her, my face a question.
“You can handle that, can’t you?” she asked.
“Of course, but I thought you—”
“I asked for his help because there was no one else,” Steve said. “Now I have all the help I need.”
“You don’t question his ability to be objective, do you Steve?” she asked, leveling her gaze onto him.
“Any professional can be objective,” he said, “but he’s no longer a professional.”
“Sure he is, and you know it.”
“But—”
“To avoid even the appearance of impropriety,” she said. “Why are you so resistant to just having him present? I would think you’d want to have every possible—”
“Okay, okay, he can observe, but that’s all.”
While the EMTs finished examining Father Thomas and FDLE finished processing the scene, Sister Abigail, Ralph Reid, and I stepped away from the others.
“I thought you wanted me to avoid things like this for a while?”
“Mitigating circumstances,” she said.
“There always are,” I said. “That’s sort of the point.”
Her eyes narrowed and her expression hardened. “Can you handle it or not?” she said, a new edge accompanying her curt voice.
“I’m just curious about why you changed your mind?”
“There’s no way he killed her,” she said, “and I was afraid they would trick him into saying he did. Not even consider that someone else could’ve done it.”
“You really an attorney?” I asked Reid.
He nodded. “Haven’t practiced in a while, but I’m the real deal.”
“How’d you even know what had happened or where to find us?” I asked.
“Kathryn told me,” he said.
“Where
is
Kathryn?” I asked.
He shrugged. “I don’t know. She just told me to get out here and take care of Father Thomas.”
“She’s probably seen enough for one night,” Sister said.
“Speaking of taking care of Father Thomas,” I said to Sister, “as a defense attorney, that’s his job, but I’m not a defense attorney and I won’t even be acting as one.”
“What’re you saying?”
“I’ll be looking at the evidence, following it wherever it leads.”
“Which is what I want you to do.”
“Even if it points to Father Thomas?”
“Yes, but it won’t.”
“Well,” I said, as the EMTs began to roll Father Thomas out of the clearing and down the path, “we’re about to find out.”
Chapter Thirteen
Cuffed so he couldn’t alter evidence, Father Thomas had been briefly examined at the Bridgeport Medical Center then released back into police custody. He was now being led down the florescent-lit corridor of the police station to the small interview room in the back. When he stepped inside the room, two FDLE techs were waiting for him.
Steve, Ralph, and I, who had been following behind him, stopped at the doorway and waited.
With practiced formality, Steve presented Father Thomas with a document and said, “This is a search warrant.”
“For what?” Father Thomas asked.
“You,” Steve said. “These two lab techs from FDLE are going to gather any physical evidence you have on you.”
Father Thomas looked at Ralph Reid, who nodded.
“I’d like to be present,” Reid said to Steve.
“Sure,” he said. “John and I’ll wait out here.”
Reid joined the others in the small room and Steve closed the door.
“Shouldn’t take too long,”
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