mug. “Hmm.” He looked down at his pad and doodled something. “I don't know if tracing will work if the call is transferred. I’ll have to find out. How secret are these unpublished numbers?”
Chloe smiled. “Not secret at all. Ever since he got here, Father Brendan's been scrawling the number for his private line on every business card he hands out. I think 90 percent of the parishioners have it. And the rectory number is no secret at all. If you want it, you've got it just by calling after hours and copying down the emergency number. Or simply by asking for it. You have to understand, priests aren't trying to be inaccessible.”
“Tell him about the trace anyway. He can do it by pushing star-five-seven. You never know. We might bag our guy.”
“Of course. Now it's your turn.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with a suppressed smile. “I knew that was coming. What have I got? Very little. We're waiting for all the reports to come in. You know how it goes. And so far I haven't found anyone who's seen or heard anything.”
“I hate these cases,” Chloe said flatly.
“Me too.”
“Some total stranger walks up, kills a kid, and there's nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Well, except that the body was moved. More than once.”
Chloe's head snapped up. “How do you know that?”
“The criminology lab found some fibers that don't match the clothing the vic was wearing. Like rug fibers, only cheaper. Then there's gravel and dirt that they don't think go with the grass I told you about earlier.”
“My God.” Chloe looked thoughtful.
“Yeah. Now it may just be that somebody moved the vic's body to the church in a car trunk. But we've still got the gravel and dirt. The lab thinks it's from a recently paved surface, something paved with oil and gravel mix.”
“That doesn't fit anything at the church.”
“I know. There wasn't a whole lot of it. It
could
have been in the trunk when he was moved. I’ll tell you frankly, Chloe, that I don't like the possibility that body may have been moved
twice.
”
“It doesn't make any sense. I mean, if you're going to transport a body in a trunk, why the hell would you take it out, then move it again?”
“I don't know. Unless we've got more going on here than a murder.”
Chloe's wheels were clearly spinning now, and she turned to look out the window beside them, into a parking lot that was nearly empty. Traffic whizzed by on the road out front. “Then there's the entire problem of how Steve was put up on that cross. That would take more than one person.”
“Exactly. I watched them take him down. No way only one person could have done it. I’d say three at a minimum.”
“Or an act of God.”
Matt started to laugh, then broke off abruptly and looked closely at her. She wasn't kidding. A chill ran down his spine. “Don't go spooky on me.”
Chloe looked at him. “I’m not going spooky. I’m looking at the senseless death of a good young man who was destined for the priesthood. Who's to say that the message in this crime wasn't being delivered by a power greater than us?”
“Oh, Christ.” Matt shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “If you want to think that was a miracle …” He couldn't even finish. The thought appalled him too much.
“I’m not saying it was. I’m just saying … I believe in miracles. If it
was
an act of God that put Steve there, I can guarantee you one thing.”
“What's that?”
“We'll never know. Anyway, I’m going forward on the assumption that there are bad guys involved, and that we can track them down. I’m a human, Matt. I know the evils we're capable of.”
He felt better. At least she wasn't going to run off on some hoodoo religious tack on him. She'd be useless to everyone if she did.
“Fair enough,” he said finally. “Just don't give me the willies again.”
She smiled faintly. “You could use a little religion in your life, Matt. For a Catholic, everything in this world is a sign of the grace
Chloe smiled. “Not secret at all. Ever since he got here, Father Brendan's been scrawling the number for his private line on every business card he hands out. I think 90 percent of the parishioners have it. And the rectory number is no secret at all. If you want it, you've got it just by calling after hours and copying down the emergency number. Or simply by asking for it. You have to understand, priests aren't trying to be inaccessible.”
“Tell him about the trace anyway. He can do it by pushing star-five-seven. You never know. We might bag our guy.”
“Of course. Now it's your turn.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled with a suppressed smile. “I knew that was coming. What have I got? Very little. We're waiting for all the reports to come in. You know how it goes. And so far I haven't found anyone who's seen or heard anything.”
“I hate these cases,” Chloe said flatly.
“Me too.”
“Some total stranger walks up, kills a kid, and there's nothing. Nothing at all.”
“Well, except that the body was moved. More than once.”
Chloe's head snapped up. “How do you know that?”
“The criminology lab found some fibers that don't match the clothing the vic was wearing. Like rug fibers, only cheaper. Then there's gravel and dirt that they don't think go with the grass I told you about earlier.”
“My God.” Chloe looked thoughtful.
“Yeah. Now it may just be that somebody moved the vic's body to the church in a car trunk. But we've still got the gravel and dirt. The lab thinks it's from a recently paved surface, something paved with oil and gravel mix.”
“That doesn't fit anything at the church.”
“I know. There wasn't a whole lot of it. It
could
have been in the trunk when he was moved. I’ll tell you frankly, Chloe, that I don't like the possibility that body may have been moved
twice.
”
“It doesn't make any sense. I mean, if you're going to transport a body in a trunk, why the hell would you take it out, then move it again?”
“I don't know. Unless we've got more going on here than a murder.”
Chloe's wheels were clearly spinning now, and she turned to look out the window beside them, into a parking lot that was nearly empty. Traffic whizzed by on the road out front. “Then there's the entire problem of how Steve was put up on that cross. That would take more than one person.”
“Exactly. I watched them take him down. No way only one person could have done it. I’d say three at a minimum.”
“Or an act of God.”
Matt started to laugh, then broke off abruptly and looked closely at her. She wasn't kidding. A chill ran down his spine. “Don't go spooky on me.”
Chloe looked at him. “I’m not going spooky. I’m looking at the senseless death of a good young man who was destined for the priesthood. Who's to say that the message in this crime wasn't being delivered by a power greater than us?”
“Oh, Christ.” Matt shifted uncomfortably on the bench. “If you want to think that was a miracle …” He couldn't even finish. The thought appalled him too much.
“I’m not saying it was. I’m just saying … I believe in miracles. If it
was
an act of God that put Steve there, I can guarantee you one thing.”
“What's that?”
“We'll never know. Anyway, I’m going forward on the assumption that there are bad guys involved, and that we can track them down. I’m a human, Matt. I know the evils we're capable of.”
He felt better. At least she wasn't going to run off on some hoodoo religious tack on him. She'd be useless to everyone if she did.
“Fair enough,” he said finally. “Just don't give me the willies again.”
She smiled faintly. “You could use a little religion in your life, Matt. For a Catholic, everything in this world is a sign of the grace
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