” I take it Lisa sent you?” Vern prodded.
Father Murphy’s eyes leapt up guiltily. “Lisa? Your wife – um, ex-wife? No.”
“Is it about one of my boys?”
Father Murphy shook his head. “Difficult,” he muttered.
“Well, take you time, Father,” Vern said sarcastically. “I’ve got all day.”
Father Murphy responded to the sarcasm. “Okay, then, I’ll cut to the chase. Did you ever know a woman named Loretta Merino?”
Vern Webb felt every blood vessel in his face slam shut, making him a sudden ghost. His hands trembled, so he put them in his lap. “I read about a shooting,” he ventured cautiously. “At your church, I believe.”
“It has been very troubling.”
“Under a lot of pressure from the media?”
“Yes.”
“And from the police?”
“Yes.”
“So… what have they discovered?”
“It’s what they have not discovered that brings me here,” Father Murphy said in his priestly confessional voice.
“And what is that?”
“The fact that Ms. Merino – before she was shot – spoke of you.”
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