the church murder case (part ten)

This story started here.

"I'm not a murderer," the man said. I was straddling him by then, and he seemed docile, but I wasn't sure he was going to stay that way.

My employer tapped his cheek with the tip of her cane. "For now," she said, peering down at him, "the only question you need to answer is the one I asked a few moments ago, specifically the location of Father Frank."

"I wouldn't hurt him," he protested. I grabbed the clerical collar and ripped it off him, just because it annoyed me that he had it on. "He's my brother," he said, more quietly. "He's tied up in the basement."

I felt my employer's strong fingers on my shoulder. She leaned over to whisper, "I suppose it would be trite to mention Cain and Abel right now." I nodded as she kissed my cheek and managed to get erect again, leaning heavily on my shoulder.

"I sent the runner," Ron said as she came back to us. "I told him to burn rubber, or he'd have to answer to me."

Jan smiled at this and said, "Ron, your father is a bit busy right now, as you can tell, so I need you to assist me. Okay?"

She nodded. "Sure."

So, they set off to find and free the real Father Frank, while I restrained the phony one. He closed his eyes and started to mumble, evidently praying.

previous || about || home || next

Print Friendly, PDF & Email

About Anthony Lee Collins

I write.
This entry was posted in stories. Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.