PENITENCE: An Andi Comstock Supernatural Mystery, Book 2 (95,893 words) (6 page)

BOOK: PENITENCE: An Andi Comstock Supernatural Mystery, Book 2 (95,893 words)
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Chapter 6

 

 

 

 

Andi didn’t lik
e
using her work computer for personal business, but this was an extenuating circumstance. She needed to organize the notes she’d taken while talking to Clem and then she needed a confab with Father Riley. ASAP.

While she rebooted her Mac, she reread the conversation she’d recorded in her journal and made a separate entry for the list of times and dates the killer had been given.

With a speed born of writing code, practically with her eyes closed, she compiled her notes in a format that she could share with Riley and Jack. And Lt. Lowry, because it was obvious now that she couldn’t wait for Jack to return to accomplish something.

She sent the document to the printer, requesting four copies, then hurried out to the common area to retrieve the pages. After a quick review to make sure everything looked good, she saved the file as
CLEM1 to
a thumb drive she pulled from her purse
.
She hit Control-A, which marked all the text, and deleted it, leaving no record of it on her computer. Once she logged out, she pilfered a manila envelope from the recycle box and shoved the stapled copies inside.

Next she dialed Father Riley. “I need to see you as soon as possible.”

He didn’t waste time asking what was wrong. “Come over now. The deacons are meeting, but they’re about to break up.”

“Are they in the rectory?”

“Yes.”

“I may stop and pray for a moment in the church, then. I feel the need for some divine guidance.”

“You’ll be in the right place,” Riley said.

Since it was so late, Andi drove over and found a parking spot at the curb. One of the deacons left the rectory and climbed into the car ahead of her. She locked up and hustled down to the other end of the block to go into the church. Father Riley left it unlocked until 7:00 pm, so she had less than five minutes to talk to God.

At seven sharp, the priest entered the apse through a side door that fed in from the ambulatory between the church and the rectory. He made his way to the narthex and locked the double doors, then came back and sat quietly next to Andi, who was still on the kneeler. A moment later, she said a silent
amen
and crossed herself before she slid back in the pew.

“Feel better?” he asked.

“Not really, but then I know prayers aren’t answered instantly.”

“It’s good you recognize that.”

She turned tortured eyes on him. “I don’t know whether to be scared or angry or frustrated or what after everything Clem told me. I do know I feel completely helpless.”

“Let’s go have a nice hot cider to warm our bones, and maybe something to eat. We’ll get it figured out.”

“God, I hope so, Riley, because the windows of opportunity Naylor gave the killer are almost all times when Denise is home with her kids.”

. . .

Andi wasn’t sure she could hold anything down, but Riley forced a roast beef sandwich on her anyway. She managed to eat half of it. He wrapped up the other half for her to take home.

She had a chill that wouldn’t abate, even with her hands wrapped around the mug he’d filled with hot cider. She took a sip, hoping to warm her insides. Instead, she scalded her mouth.

The priest cleared away the dishes and took the brown envelope Andi handed him. He pulled out one set of papers and began to read. “Oh, dear,” he said when he’d finished.

“Exactly,” she said. “Now you see why I’m so upset. Jack won’t be back until Sunday. I need to see Stacy Lowry right away.”

“You have her phone number,” Riley reminded her. “Call her.”

Andi put down her mug and mimed an I-could’ve-had-a-V8 moment before she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone. She scrolled until she found the LT’s number. She hit
SEND
and put the phone on speaker. “Hi, Stacy. It’s Andi Comstock.”

“Andi, hi. I was just thinking about you.”

“You were?”

“Yes, when Jack checked in, he mentioned that I might be hearing from you. What’s up?”

“I’ve had a visit from a Smokie who put out a contract on his wife and now that he’s dead, he’s discovered that she wasn’t really having an affair, but he has no way to stop the contract.”

“Shit a brick,” Stacy said after a pregnant pause.

“My thoughts exactly. I need to see you as soon as possible. He gave me more information just a while ago and I’m afraid time is of the essence.”

“Where are you?”

“At St. Gemma’s rectory, discussing options with Father Riley. He encouraged me not to wait until tomorrow to contact you.”

“I’m glad you didn’t. Look, I’m still at the office, but I was just getting ready to leave. What if I join you there? I may stop along the way and get something at a drive-thru.”

Father Riley shook his head vigorously and pointed at the refrigerator.

“Father Riley says he’ll feed you. He makes a pretty good roast beef sandwich.”

“Sounds good to me. I’ll be there soon.” She confirmed the location and signed off.

The priest stood and moved toward the fridge. “She’ll help us get this figured out.”

“I hope so, because it’s all looking pretty grim right about now.”

. . .

Lt. Anastasia Lowry, known as LT to her staff and Stacy to her friends, read through her copy of Andi’s notes. When she finished, she looked first at Father Riley, then at Andi. Her expression reflected some inner turmoil

“What?” Andi asked.

“You don’t name names.”

Andi hadn’t consciously omitted them, but when Stacy pointed it out, she realized she’d used
Smokie
for Clem,
she
for Denise, and
hitman
for the contract killer.

“This is Clem Naylor, isn’t it? And his wife, Denise.”

Andi’s eyes widened. “How did you know?”

“I attended his memorial service on Tuesday. His wife and my sister are best friends.”

“Oh, my,” said Father Riley. He shot a questioning glance at Andi, then asked Stacy, “Does that mean you have to recuse yourself from the case?”

“No. Edgerton’s too small. I’ve lived here my entire life. I’d have to step down on half the cases I supervise, if just knowing someone were grounds for recusal.”

“That’s a relief,” Andi said, “because if you know Denise, that will give you the perfect inside track to warn her.”

“I agree she needs to be warned,” Stacy said, “but I can’t just go over and say, ‘Clem just spilled his guts to a woman who hears the dead and told her he hired someone to kill you because he thought you were having an affair,’ now can I?”

Andi shrugged. “When you put it that way, it sounds very
Ghost Whisper
-ish. On the other hand, people who are grieving are often more likely to accept what I hear.”

Stacy gave her an incredulous look. “You mean Vaughn Hemmer and the Spences?”

“That’s one example,” Andi said.

“You have others?”

“Well, um, no, but I’d be willing to bet Denise will believe you if you give it to her straight.”

“I’m more inclined to think she’ll believe me more if I tell her I’ve heard
chatter
that her husband put a contract out on her because he thought she was cheating on him.”

“OMG!” Andi said, as a thought occurred to her. “I never asked Clem if he’d told anyone what he planned to do. What if he did? That might help us track who the hitman is.”

Stacy narrowed her eyes on Andi. “Before you go any further, tell me what the error is in that comment you just made.”

Andi chewed the inside of her cheek, thinking. “Clem wouldn’t have told anyone what he was doing?”

“Wrong. You used the word
us
, as in might help
us
track the hitman.”

“I didn’t mean that literally,” Andi said in her own defense.

“Right,” Stacy said, though her tone was anything but agreeable. “Look, Andi, you’ve got a fine mind. You’re organized, thoughtful, and insightful. Hell, if you ever decide to change careers, I’d love to have you investigating cases for me, but right now, you write game apps.” She leveled a stern expression at the game-app writer. “You don’t work for EPD. I appreciate that when you hear something untoward from a Smokie, you bring it to the police, but you can’t go getting involved again, like you did on the Hemmer case.”

Father Riley reached over and gave Andi’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Andi understands what you’re saying, Lieutenant, but she
is
the one who initially gets the information. You can’t just expect her to hand it over then stand back, waiting to see if it gets resolved satisfactorily.”

The LT’s demeanor grew even more grim. “Actually, I can.”

He tapped his copy of Andi’s notes. “You wouldn’t have one iota of information about this if Andi hadn’t done a mini-interrogation on Clem. He’s stuck in Limbo Land forever if there’s no resolution in sight, so he
will
be back and she can try to get more out of him.”

Father Riley paused for effect, which Andi had always found to be one of his more effective skills.

He went on. “Will
you
be able to do that?”

The LT frowned at the priest, though it seemed to be more as a result of her internal struggle than any displeasure she had with him.

“Vaughn Hemmer knew Clem,” Andi inserted. “He said he went to his service, too. He asked me if Clem had stopped by to chat on his way to…wherever.” She still wasn’t sure Naylor would be headed to Heaven. “Vaughn told me if I’d like to pick his brain about Clem, feel free.”

“I saw him at the service. In fact, we spoke briefly.” Stacy drummed her fingertips against the stapled notes, obviously thinking. “Okay, here’s what’s going to happen.” She rolled her eyes skyward. “And God help me if I’m making a big mistake.”

“You’re not,” Father Riley said.

Since Stacy hadn’t yet outlined her plans, Andi had no idea how he could be so certain.

. . .

Father Riley booted up his laptop and they logged into Clem’s account on the hitman-for-hire website using his password. From there, they poured over the information, item by item. Not only could a person choose the method of death, but the date and time, as well, which coincided with Clem’s statement to Andi. What surprised them was that the questionnaire was set up something like a multiple choice test, with second options available in some instances.

“I’ll get our IT people on this, see if they can trace the IP address and find out who hosts this site,” Stacy said.

“Since Clem read about a hitman site on the FBI webpage initially, let’s see if we can find the article. Maybe someone at the FBI can provide us with some helpful information.” Andi’s fingers flew over the keyboard typing in
hitman for hire
. The article she sought was second up. “Here you go.” She read off the agent’s name and contact info to Stacy, who wrote it down in a small notebook.

“Brilliant, Andi. I take it back. Either quit Orion’s Belt and come work for me tomorrow, or stop using plural pronouns.”

Andi pretended to think about it. “Thanks, but I think I’ll stay where I am for the time being…and I promise I’ll
try
not to say ‘we’ or ‘us’ again.”

The LT shook her head, as if to say,
I’ll bet
.

Father Riley shot Andi a wry grin. “The Belt probably pays better, anyway.”

“Maybe so, but the worst would be, if I went to work for Stacy, I’d have to quit dating Jack and that’s not something I’m willing to do.” She glanced at Stacy. “Sorry.”

The LT laughed. “Don’t be, I get your point. Let’s move on.”

Next, Andi inserted
the liquidator hitman
into Google. The task of sorting through the multitude of listings about both the movie and the merchandise-liquidation TV series was laborious, but it netted several items about various law enforcement agencies searching for the paid killer. In one, they discovered he’d come close to being caught and had left behind what might be his weapon of choice, The
Hitman's
Heatmaker, a level-one sniper rifle.

“Sloppy,” Stacy commented. “When you talk to Clem again, try to pin him down on the
exact
choices he made on the questionnaire. Maybe we can get a lead on The Liquidator somehow with that information.”

Andi added a note on her new to-do list to print out the hitman form when she got home.

“What about making contact with some of the people who’ve been imprisoned after hiring the hitman?” Father Riley suggested. “We’ve come across two or three here in the Northwest alone.”

“That could be an option,” Stacy said.

“I volunteer to speak to them,” the priest went on. He glanced at Andi and grinned. “I could reprise my author persona and say I’m writing a book about hitmen.”

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