THE INNOCENCE (A Thriller) (5 page)
Rita bit her lip and looked down to the floor. “Something wasn’t right. All that stuff Kelly had said about salvation. How could she have murdered a priest?”
“Heck I don’t know. She figured she was damned anyways right?” Merrels responded.
“So what, she wanted to get caught then? That’s why she made me look at those archives and help her figure out who was behind everything?”
“Hell Rita, I don’t know. Listen, I’ve got a long day of handling press and making phone calls tomorrow so I would appreciate some sleep. You all have a place to go to?”
“Yeah,” Jack responded. “We are heading to my house on Crystal Street. You can find us there tomorrow.”
“Come on mom,” Judy said, pulling her mothers arm. “Let’s go.”
“Yeah, let’s go.” Brian said, holding on to Jack’s hand as they walked toward the door.
Rita felt a momentary lapse of quiet go through her as she looked at her two children’s faces and thought how they had all survived; everyone except Kelly who had been lost so long ago. Chief Merrels patted her on the back as he steered them out of her office to the parking lot, locking the door to the office behind them. As they left Rita had the urge to run back and demand to go over everything one more time. Something was still missing, she thought to herself, or maybe it was just the tiredness or the adrenaline from everything that happened. But tomorrow was going to be another day so for now she got in the car and found sleep waiting for her.
Once the station wagon had pulled out of the parking lot Chief Merrels turned back to his desk to read the email that had come in only an hour earlier. It was the results of the fingerprint analysis matched to Kelly Reiss’. As he read the email he felt the blood drain from his face and he reached for another cigarette. Taking a big inhale he read the first line again to make sure sleep wasn’t getting the better of him. He shook his head with weariness, turned off the lights, and left for home. Tomorrow was another day for another load of work to be done. For now he would go home, climb in bed next to his wife and think of the first line in that email from the analysis office.
“Not a match.”
THE END
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