CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Inspector Viridian had abandoned him. Again.
Not to run through the woods like some twisted, unnatural beast this time, of course, but gone just the same, along with half the station.
Responding to some emergency at the edge of town – a fire, he thought someone had said.
Apparently, many of the PKs of Havenside were also volunteer firefighters.
It left him practically alone in the neat and tidy station, fixing a lonely cup of tea and feeling useless.
“Waste of my talents,” he muttered to the steaming tea as he stirred in a lump of sugar. “Wouldn’t even let me write up the complaint. As if I don’t understand procedure!”
Well, he didn’t. Not entirely. The law wasn’t stringent when it came to demon rights.
Usually, he did whatever he had to when pursuing supernatural subjects.
Worrying about search warrants and the rights of minors never crossed his mind.
Which, of course, was why Inspector Viridian chose to write the complaint herself, relegating him to the task of tending to their winded horses while she did it.
But when he’d returned to their shared desk, Hero had been on her way out the door, coat, cane, complaint and all.
Chief Dewey had offered him only an infuriating shrug when he’d demanded to know where she’d gone.
“I’m not her keeper,” he’d muttered. “I’m sure she’s gone somewhere where she can step on as many toes as possible. ”
Oleander had been taken aback at Dewey’s change in attitude toward Inspector Viridian.
Hadn’t he asked for her personally? She wasn’t exactly an unknown quantity.
Had he expected she wouldn’t step on toes in pursuit of the guilty?
Revealing the crimes of the powerful was SOP for this particular death speaker.
Hadn’t she exposed one of the most prominent railroad baron’s serial-murder spree?
There was the story of body parts dumped on a judge’s doorstep…
“I’m sure she’s following through on our lead,” he said, feeling a strange compulsion to defend his partner.
There was a certain code among peacekeepers of the Realm: You always had your partner’s back.
“Our interviews, and especially the events of this morning, have opened up our investigation considerably.”
Dewey exhaled noisily. “Surely, you must understand how… fraught pursuing such a lead will be in this town?”
“Pardon, Chief, but I don’t see the problem. A mysterious fortress appearing out of nowhere, connected spectrally to a victim – both victims! – surely warrants further inquiry?”
Exasperated confusion crumpled Dewey’s face.
He leaned back in his chair and stared at Keen like he had suddenly sprouted another head.
“Have you both lost your minds? I thought it was merely Viridian being, well, Viridian. But you? Did you grow up in a cave, DH Keen? Bright Renewal Academy has been part of the fabric of Havenside for decades. That institution has done more for the good of the community than even the church, I dare say. Saving children is their calling! And you and Inspector Viridian dare to accuse them, to impugn their reputation? For what purpose? What reason other than a delusional hunch?”
Rendered speechless by Dewey’s odd vehemence over the mysterious institution, Keen had returned to his desk wondering if perhaps he was the one who was mistaken.
Perhaps he’d somehow missed the existence of Bright Renewal the entire time he’d lived in Havenside.
It seemed utterly ridiculous, but he couldn’t think of any other explanation.
Is Chief Dewey the crazy one, or is it me?
An hour later, after going over witness statements, searching for inconsistencies, clues and hints, Keen decided maybe Dewey was right after all.
Many of their witnesses had mentioned Bright Renewal.
There were several references to the place, scattered throughout the documents.
All glowing remarks, too. He couldn’t for the life of him understand why he didn’t remember its existence.
“No, of course I remember.” Keen caught the glance of a PK at the filing cabinet.
He hadn’t realized he’d spoken out loud.
He shuffled the reports back into a neat stack, feeling utterly foolish to have forgotten such a venerated establishment in his own hometown.
Why, half the children who’d grown up in Otherside had done a stint at Bright Renewal.
Goddess, his head hurt. Keen pinched the top of his nose and squeezed his tired eyes shut.
He’d spent all afternoon going over the witness statements and nothing new had leapt out at him.
Abigail had confirmed Sister Catarine’s illicit relationship with Father Kellan.
Inspector Viridian had already focused on him as a person of interest. Their only other lead was what Molly Franke had told them about the dead student, and that was hardly any lead at all – except it had dumped them on the doorstep of a respectable school which existed solely to save wayward children.
Surely Bright Renewal Academy had nothing to do with a murder!
The shriek of a crow outside the station window startled him from his ruminations.
Someone had left the window open, probably one of the peacekeepers who enjoyed smoking but didn’t want to stand outside to do it.
He stood up to close it, then spotted a cowled figure on the steps below. The person glanced up and met his gaze.
Pale-faced, unshaven, dark bruises around his eyes and a cut on his swollen lip, Father Kellan stared up at him like a drowning man spotting a life preserver.
With little fanfare, DH Keen ushered the priest into an interrogation room.
The man kept his cowl on until they were behind closed doors, keeping his face hidden.
He seemed to want to keep his presence low key, and luckily for him there were still only a few squad members at the station.
That fire must have been a doozy for no one to have returned yet.
Where the hell is Viridian?
It didn’t matter. He could handle this himself.
“Tea, Father?” he asked when the man had settled into the hard, wobbly chair they provided for suspects.
This unexpected appearance had Keen’s hackles up.
Father Roger Kellan was already a person of interest. Appearing like this, disheveled and intoxicated…
Sometimes killers inserted themselves into investigations, especially those who acted out of passion.
They just couldn’t help themselves. Guilt destroyed them.
It was Keen’s job to turn that guilt against them.
Kellan shook his head at the offer, then seemed to change his mind. “Yes, please. I think I need something…” He trailed off, his hands before him on the table open and trembling as if waiting for a gift to be dropped into them. “My head is a bit cloudy.”
The tea arrived, hot and steaming. Keen took a cup himself and exchanged a glance with the aide who’d brought it, not a PK but an auxiliary clerk.
She lifted her graying brows at him, seemingly unsurprised at the state the priest was in.
She was older than Keen – a mother and a grandmother, or so he understood – and had no doubt seen it all before.
Her glance toward Kellan on leaving the room was not a kind one.
Perhaps more people had suspected something scandalous between Father Kellan and Sister Catarine.
After all, Havenside was a small town and gossip ran hot through her wide, manicured streets.
He cursed himself for being so blind. Not until Abigail had said it out loud was he willing to believe it.
Just because Kellan was a priest and their victim was a nun, it didn’t mean they weren’t a man and a woman.
Young, attractive, always in each other’s company.
He sighed inwardly. He had a lot to learn about people.
Father Kellan held his cup of tea between his hands, letting the steam bathe his face.
He seemed to be struggling to compose himself, tossing wretched glances at Keen every now and again.
Keen waited. The man had come to confess – this he knew with deep certainty – but what was he going to confess to, exactly?
“I – I have to ask for your forgiveness, DH Keen,” he began after a few long draughts of tea.
It worked like magic, calming him. “I wasn’t entirely truthful when you and that…
your partner questioned me at Clementine.
You were only doing your jobs, and it was foolish of me to try and hide anything.
After all, Havenside is a small place. Everyone always knows everyone else’s business, you see.
Ah – you should know, you grew up here, didn’t you?
” A tremulous smile crossed his battered face, and the cut on his lip bled a little at the movement. He winced and touched it gingerly.
“What happened to you, Father, if I may inquire?”
Kellan waved a hand. “I’ll get to that. First, I have to tell you.
I mean, I have to get this off my chest. It’s – it’s scandalous.
Which was why I found myself reluctant to say it out loud.
The truth is, Sister Catarine – Cat…” He choked a moment on her name, his lips pressed tight, his throat working.
Tears sprang into his eyes. “It’s true. What…
she suspected. The ex-nun. The demon nun.
Cat and I were together. We… we were going to leave the order when Clem broke for winter break.
We were going to leave Havenside. Not just because we were in love – and, yes, we loved each other dearly.
We didn’t mean to fall in love, mind you.
But we did. We couldn’t help it!” He stared at Keen beseechingly as if he might absolve him of this sin.
Keen said nothing, opting to let the priest unspool enough rope to hang himself. Already, he was beginning to feel his flesh crawl, knowing what was coming. The image of Catarine’s body haunted him, tossed in the woods like trash, her tongue removed. What kind of monster sat before him?
And yet there was no stink of the demonic on him. Not a whiff. The one thing Keen knew about the sister’s hideous death was that a demon was involved. Perhaps Kellan had been its unwitting tool?
“I loved her more than my own life,” Kellan continued.
His unshaven jowls shook with emotion, his eyes red-rimmed and wet.
“I should have taken her away sooner, gotten her out of this horrid town, this hideous place. There is a darkness here, DH Keen, so subtle you might never even notice, but it is there beneath the surface – a rot. A stink.”
Keen blinked. Was this a confession or not?
“She tried to tell me people were targeting her, making subtle threats. I brushed it off as a flight of fancy, just guilt talking. Leaving the order is no simple decision. Why, we could both be risking damnation. But when your calling fails you, what choice do you have? I swore everything would be all right, that I would protect her. I swore to take her away somewhere safe, but she said she couldn’t leave yet because of her students. ”
“She didn’t want to leave with you,” Keen said flatly, feeling his anger rising. “Is that what happened between you?”
“No! She wanted to leave. She wanted to be with me.”
“Or perhaps she changed her mind? You said she didn’t want to leave her students.
I can see how that might make you angry.
” Keen shook his head, forcing himself to sound sympathetic when all he wanted to do was throttle this miserable specimen of a man.
“Women can be fickle, can’t they? Promising us the world one day and spurning us the next.
I understand what that does to men like us. Men of passion and daring.”
Father Kellan stared at him, not looking passionate or particularly daring at all.
“I – I think you misunderstand me. She hadn’t changed her mind about anything.
She only wanted to stay a little longer to make sure her students were safe.
And I told her to forget about it, let others deal with it.
We fought about it more than once, I’m ashamed to admit.
But… why put herself in danger for those entitled brats? ”
The bitterness in his voice was startling.
He was a popular teacher, or so others had said.
The students of Clementine considered him a friend of sorts, as much as any teacher could be.
“She thought the students were in danger?” Keen said sharply.
Perhaps Catarine had known something – something terrible.
Cassie Graham had told the sister a terrible secret, and now both of them were dead.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to blame them.” He ran a shaking hand through his snarled hair. “I just wanted to be gone, so we could start a new life somewhere else. Somewhere far, far away from here. If I had convinced her to leave with me that night, the last night I saw her alive…”
He began to weep in earnest. Keen sighed, watching him dissolve into an absolute mess.
Not exactly the cold-blooded killer he’d imagined.
His “confession” had taken quite the turn.
It wasn’t unusual for a guilty man to weep crocodile tears for the person he’d killed, but Keen was beginning to soften.
Kellan seemed so broken. How could he possibly have been capable of carrying out such a perfect murder, leaving no trace behind? No human trace, at least?
No, he no longer believed Kellan had killed the poor nun, tool of a demon or not. But still…
“You were the last person to see her alive,” he said. “That puts you at the top of our suspect list, I’m afraid.”
“I know,” the priest answered miserably.
“I know how it looks. Her brothers think I did it. They knew, you see, about the two of us, or were suspicious at the very least. They ambushed me, beat me up, tried to force a confession. I only got away by promising to turn myself in. But I am innocent of this crime! I would sooner slit my own throat than harm a hair on her head. I deserve no mercy, though. I deserve to pay for this, to pay dearly. I did not kill Cat, but I didn’t save her, either.
Throw me in the clink if you must, but don’t stop hunting the real killers. ”