he could stand there and get a good view of the crook so he could identify the thief at the police station. That might prove to be the most useful thing to be done. Just wait. Then again, that was certainly a dangerous path to take.
The door knob turned. The man was coming out. No time to run. Just watch.
The figure quickly shut the door behind him and turned as if doing something to the lock. In a matter of seconds, the black figure turned back around and started to leave the porch. Only then did Father Raffello realize the man had a black mask over his face.
"Stop!" the priest demanded.
The man's scream echoed off the stone walls of the expansive church before he launched forward with a vicious thrust.
Father Raffello felt the excruciating pain of a knife blade plunging into his stomach. The torment was so severe that he couldn't scream. All the strength went out of his body and the priest crumpled to his knees. He felt the blade pulled out only to come again at his upper chest. Blackness instantly swallowed the priest.
14
E ven though it was an early morning in late September, the temperature felt unusually warm. Jack and Michelle Townsend pulled their small Fiat into their reserved parking space behind their offices. Michelle noticed Jack kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and was studying her composure.
"You satisfied yet?" she said.
"Satisfied?" Jack frowned. "I don't understand."
"Yes, you do. You're checking me out to make sure I've got my head together."
"No!" Jack protested.
"Our little dinner the other night at Der Pallaro was about my stability. You're checking me out again this morning."
Jack stiffened. "That's not fair."
Michelle laughed. "I want you to know that I am hunky-dory, as my little mother use to say, just fine. You can relax."
Jack squirmed. "Of course. Sure you are."
Michelle giggled. "You are one funny man, Jack Townsend. I know you worry about me all the time." She squeezed his hand. "I want you to know that's no problem. Your love keeps me going. OK?"
Jack leaned over and gave her a kiss. "You bet. Let's go."
Slamming the car doors shut, the couple started up the walkway holding hands, teasing, laughing while swinging briefcases at their sides. Jack pointed ahead. "Looks like a crowd of people milling around our front door."
"What would anybody be doing out here at this early hour?" Michelle ask. "Aren't a couple of guys bending over something in the grass?"
"I-I don't know." Jack stopped. "Good heavens! Someone is on the ground!"
Michelle dropped her briefcase. "God forbid! That's a man lying in the grass!"
"Stay here until I see what's going on," Jack said forcefully. "I mean it. Stay exactly where you are. I'll be back."
Michelle felt her anxieties starting to build. A black form sprawled in the grass looked like a priest from the church. Her heart started to pound and fear began grabbing at her throat.
Jack broke into a trot to get to the front of the white house.
Dov Sharon and Father Donald Blake stood behind a group of men gathered around the porch. Several policemen were kneeling over the figure lying on the ground. Only then did Jack discover a pool of blood spreading from beneath the body.
"It's Father Raffello," Dov said. "I found his body when I arrived this morning. I immediately called the police."
"Stabbed," Father Blake added. "I just happened to be in this area when the story broke. "I got here shortly after the police arrived. Nasty business."
Jack covered his mouth and groaned. "No! It can't be. How could anyone kill such a kind old priest of the church?"
"We're not sure," Father Blake said. "My hunch is that he caught a thief breaking into your offices. A struggle resulted and the assailant killed the priest. Rigor mortis has already set in, so the stabbing must have occurred in the middle of the night."
Jack looked back at Michelle and motioned for her to stay put. "Lord, help us! We don't have anything of value in that office that a thief would kill
The door knob turned. The man was coming out. No time to run. Just watch.
The figure quickly shut the door behind him and turned as if doing something to the lock. In a matter of seconds, the black figure turned back around and started to leave the porch. Only then did Father Raffello realize the man had a black mask over his face.
"Stop!" the priest demanded.
The man's scream echoed off the stone walls of the expansive church before he launched forward with a vicious thrust.
Father Raffello felt the excruciating pain of a knife blade plunging into his stomach. The torment was so severe that he couldn't scream. All the strength went out of his body and the priest crumpled to his knees. He felt the blade pulled out only to come again at his upper chest. Blackness instantly swallowed the priest.
14
E ven though it was an early morning in late September, the temperature felt unusually warm. Jack and Michelle Townsend pulled their small Fiat into their reserved parking space behind their offices. Michelle noticed Jack kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and was studying her composure.
"You satisfied yet?" she said.
"Satisfied?" Jack frowned. "I don't understand."
"Yes, you do. You're checking me out to make sure I've got my head together."
"No!" Jack protested.
"Our little dinner the other night at Der Pallaro was about my stability. You're checking me out again this morning."
Jack stiffened. "That's not fair."
Michelle laughed. "I want you to know that I am hunky-dory, as my little mother use to say, just fine. You can relax."
Jack squirmed. "Of course. Sure you are."
Michelle giggled. "You are one funny man, Jack Townsend. I know you worry about me all the time." She squeezed his hand. "I want you to know that's no problem. Your love keeps me going. OK?"
Jack leaned over and gave her a kiss. "You bet. Let's go."
Slamming the car doors shut, the couple started up the walkway holding hands, teasing, laughing while swinging briefcases at their sides. Jack pointed ahead. "Looks like a crowd of people milling around our front door."
"What would anybody be doing out here at this early hour?" Michelle ask. "Aren't a couple of guys bending over something in the grass?"
"I-I don't know." Jack stopped. "Good heavens! Someone is on the ground!"
Michelle dropped her briefcase. "God forbid! That's a man lying in the grass!"
"Stay here until I see what's going on," Jack said forcefully. "I mean it. Stay exactly where you are. I'll be back."
Michelle felt her anxieties starting to build. A black form sprawled in the grass looked like a priest from the church. Her heart started to pound and fear began grabbing at her throat.
Jack broke into a trot to get to the front of the white house.
Dov Sharon and Father Donald Blake stood behind a group of men gathered around the porch. Several policemen were kneeling over the figure lying on the ground. Only then did Jack discover a pool of blood spreading from beneath the body.
"It's Father Raffello," Dov said. "I found his body when I arrived this morning. I immediately called the police."
"Stabbed," Father Blake added. "I just happened to be in this area when the story broke. "I got here shortly after the police arrived. Nasty business."
Jack covered his mouth and groaned. "No! It can't be. How could anyone kill such a kind old priest of the church?"
"We're not sure," Father Blake said. "My hunch is that he caught a thief breaking into your offices. A struggle resulted and the assailant killed the priest. Rigor mortis has already set in, so the stabbing must have occurred in the middle of the night."
Jack looked back at Michelle and motioned for her to stay put. "Lord, help us! We don't have anything of value in that office that a thief would kill
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