Chapter 3
After Shana called Father Donahue while she waited outside in the Jeep, she expected to see him coming out the front door. She did not expect to see Toly’s two men accompanying him on either side, in full protection mode with swiveling glances, moving at a quick trot.
As soon as he opened the door and slid into the front seat, Father Donahue said, “Toly’s orders.”
Shana glanced back as Viktor and Pavel slid into the back seat from opposite sides, pulling the back doors closed at the same time. There was no apology in either of their faces. Pavel folded his arms across his large chest.
“Let’s go.”
“Let’s be clear,” Shana said. “I’m not your chauffeur. I’m in charge. Don’t speak when we get there. And remember, we’re trying not to scare the priest.”
“We’re not stupid,” Pavel said.
“No, but you are scary.”
Both men smiled.
Shana led the three men to the back door.
She took Father Donahue by the arm and held him at her side as they stepped inside the tiled hall.
There were stairs to their right that led downstairs to their would-be reception area, and on the left a short hall to the main church.
Straight ahead stood an imposing wooden door that looked like it belonged in a cathedral instead of a small island church.
“Wow,” Father Donahue said. Shana was thankful for the man’s collar. She tugged him closer and after a quick rap on the door, she pushed it open. It led to a small dimly lit anteroom where a second door stood open.
“Come in,” a man’s voice boomed in a half-distracted, half-practiced friendliness.
She pulled Father Donahue slightly ahead of her and paid no mind to her scolding conscience accusing her of cowardice. Ordering Viktor and Pavel to stay outside, she pulled the door closed behind her. No need to set Reverend Hall off before they got started.
The parish minister rose from behind his old desk and smiled. The office felt cramped with furniture, closing in around her. Shana needed to get a grip.
“Shana George. And who have you brought to see me?”
The jig was up already. Hall sounded suspicious before she’d said a word.
“I’m Father Donahue, a very good friend of Shana and—”
“Father Donahue is in from Boston.” She didn’t want Dane’s name mentioned yet—or at all if it could be helped.
“Welcome to our humble parish. Sit.” Hall sat and gave them a knowing smile. “Now tell me what I can do for you.”
“We have a favor to ask.”
He nodded. He was no fool. He wasn’t committing to anything.
“We would like to hold a wedding here.”
“Are you and Dane getting married?” The minister’s brows lifted to his hairline and he rose from his chair before Shana could wave her hands and dispel the ridiculous notion.
“No, no, no. This is a wedding—and reception—for a high-profile couple. They need privacy.” Shana paused while the Reverend Hall nodded. Her chest tightened with the bubble of apprehension but she went on. “And they need protection.”
The minister nodded, the grim line returning to his mouth.
“I know you and Dane. I suspect there is more to it, more than this couple’s high profile that causes a need for protection. You’re on a case, aren’t you?”
He barely paused for her to nod. She clutched the arm of Father Donahue seated next to her, wishing to hell it was Dane sitting there. But this wasn’t a life and death situation. She didn’t need Dane. But she wanted him just the same.
Then she reminded herself it could be a life and death situation for Lara and Paulette.
Reverend Hall stood and said, “I would love to help but I can’t afford to have my church shot up by some crazy criminals out to get you and your client.”
She stood, but she had no intention of leaving.
Father Donahue stood next to her and spoke before she had a chance.
“Reverend, I understand your concern, but you know Dane and Shana would never let any harm come to your parishioners or your church. We only want a safe wedding. Lara is my niece and she plans to get married in six days. She would be heartbroken if she could not marry in a church.”
The minister listened and his mouth softened. Or maybe his muscles were tiring from holding his mouth in that grim line, but he still did not relent. Shana decided to bring out the big guns and pulled the envelope filled with cash from her pocket.
She handed the healthy enveloped, courtesy of Toly, to the priest. “Here’s a down payment—a deposit against any…
wear and tear.” The minister was clearly impressed with the money and embarrassed about it.
If Shana read him right, he seemed to be retrenching, fleeing back to the safety of his flat refusal to help.
Father Donahue said, “My family would be so grateful. Lara—she’s been through so much. Her baby was kidnapped and if it weren’t for your blessed and generous parishioners Shana George and Dane Blaise, it would have ended in tragedy.”
Reverend Hall nodded with his holy empathy framed in horror. Shana wasn’t sure Donahue was helping their cause.
She said, “Lara and Ryan are an innocent couple in love and we must protect them. They are being threatened through no fault of their own,” she said.
When Hall’s face softened, the hard edge of his grim mouth relenting, Father Donahue surprised Shana with his entreaty.
“We need your help. We are planning to catch the perpetrators before the wedding so that nothing will happen and no civilians will be put in any danger. We plan to perform a staged wedding—a sting operation they call it—to lure in the criminals.” Father Donahue paused and looked at Shana with a wink.
“We will have a trained professional play the priest,” Shana said.
Dane walked through the door in time to hear Father Donahue’s plan for a staged wedding.
After Dane congratulated himself for having the good sense not to leave the church problem to chance, he squelched the urge to swear and ran through the implications.
Dane had mentioned the possibility of staging a sting—a convincing parody of the real wedding—but only in passing, but it looked like Father Donahue was running with it.
That would complicate matters. He had no idea where the hell he’d find the so-called professionals to fill in for an entire wedding party.
“Who’s minding the store?” Shana said the moment she saw him.
“Cap stopped by.” Fortunately he’d talked Toly out of coming with him to the church. The man was going stir crazy and hadn’t been at the big shack a whole day. But Reverend Hall was skittish enough without a surly Russian mobster storming his doors.
Reverend Hall acknowledged him then—and confirming Dane’s suspicions about where he stood in the minister’s estimation.
“I’d prefer if you weren’t involved.”
Dane said, “We all have our crosses to bear.”
“Looks like you’re my cross.” The minister wasn’t kidding around.
Father Donahue looked baffled and like he would jump to Dane’s defense, but Shana cut in.
“Let’s not forget Dane’s generosity to your parish, Reverend.
And let’s not forget that he’s doing a necessary and dangerous—and apparently thankless job.
” She treated the priest to the glare Dane thought had been reserved for him.
There was real heat behind it. Then Dane noticed it was a different kind of heat.
It was disrespectful. And there was no physical passion behind it. He smiled.
The minister stood his ground, even in the face of Shana’s wrath. Dane ran the options through his mind. Before he got to plan C, Donahue cleared his throat and spoke.
“Your cooperation in this matter would not go unrecognized. I would see to it that my good friend, the Archbishop of your ministry, was apprised of your generosity and I would personally give my recommendation to him on your behalf.”
Donahue spoke convincingly, as if he actually had that kind of sway. Maybe he did. Dane’s estimation of the priest rose ever higher. It had already been up there. Reverend Hall seemed to be impressed enough to consider Donahue’s promise.
He asked, “Your recommendation to the Archbishop on my behalf… for what exactly?”
“Whatever you ask for.” Donahue said the words like they were a line in a prayer.
Reverend Hall took in an audible breath.
Evidently he’d been hankering for something and Dane would bet Toly’s retainer of twenty clams that the minister wanted to get off the island of Martha’s Vineyard.
Shana’s eyes widened enough for Dane to notice, but no one else.
She was getting good and he felt that pop of warm fizz inside him whenever he took pride in her—whether he had a right to or not.
“How do I know—”
“You have my word.” Father Donahue put his hand out for a shake to seal the deal. He was no fool. It only took a beat and a half for Reverend Hall to stretch out his hand and nod. He looked over at Dane and said, “I won’t be personally participating in any of it.”
“Of course not.”
Reverend Hall didn’t smile, but stood and invited them wordlessly to leave. Dane stepped aside to allow Shana and Father Donahue to go before him. He wanted a parting warning word with the minister. After the others left the room, Dane closed the door and faced Reverend Hall.
“What now, Blaise? You got what you wanted.”
“I’m not sure where your hostility comes from, Reverend, but I wanted to say two things to you. First, thank you for letting us use your church.” Hall nodded and looked less surly, less afraid. Then Dane continued.
“You were right to be cautious. We’re dealing with some unsavory characters.”
The priest gave him a snide look, but before he spoke, Dane continued.
“Therefore, you will not under any circumstances mention to anyone this arrangement, the wedding or that Shana and I were ever here. I want no word at all to leak out about any of it, nothing about it being at the church, nothing about a staged wedding. Nothing.” Dane paused and mustered his steeliest look.
But it hardly mattered because Reverend Hall had already turned whiter than his altar cloth. “Is that clear?”