Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 69242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69242 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 346(@200wpm)___ 277(@250wpm)___ 231(@300wpm)
“Are you mad?”
“Maze,” she whispered and I rolled my eyes and found the black ballet flats I was looking for, slipped into them and grabbed the small clutch that held my essentials.
“I’m heading to the car right now, Bonnie. Don’t be pissed, okay?”
“Maisie! I’m not mad,” she yelled down the line and I stopped dead in my tracks, looking at the phone. The tone in her voice sent a wrecking ball to my gut. “Bonnie, what’s wrong?”
“It’s Father Eric, Maze. He’s dead.”
I couldn't believe it as Bonnie told me over the phone that Father Eric was dead. It didn't seem real. I had just seen him alive and well just a few days ago. Bonnie was a wreck and I didn't know how to console her over the phone, so I told her I was on my way to the church.
“I got to the church early this morning because I wanted to talk to him about Wyatt and our problems.” When she paused, my legs got moving again as a sinking sensation started up in my belly that I couldn’t shake. “I found him in his office, Maze. He was dead.”
I tried to keep my voice steady as I reassured Bonnie that I was on my way, but inside I was a mess. Father Eric had always been there with a kind word or sound advice. Now he was gone.
“He was…there was blood everywhere Maze. He…he…he was dead Maisie. Someone killed him.”
“Shit.” It wasn’t the word I was thinking of, but I’d grown up around a bunch of bikers. I didn’t have much experience with being delicate so that was what popped out.
“Who the fuck would kill Father Eric?” He was a friend and sometimes confidant who taught me about faith and its existence separate from religion.
“Bon, are the cops there? Did you find him? Oh my God, I’m on my way.”
Father Eric was a good man and the world was so filled with evil men that we needed all the good ones we could get.
“Who would do this? He was so…good. I’ve known him almost my whole life.” She sobbed.
I listened to Bonnie talk as I drove the familiar path to the big brick church with the red doors and golden handles, thinking of another story I’d seen about murdered priests in the area. I wondered if they were related. Was there a serial killer targeting priests or was it more sinister? Was there something about Father Eric I didn’t know?
“People can be shitty, Bon. Maybe this was random.”
“Maybe, but, God, Maze, his throat…so much blood.”
The hurt in Bonnie’s voice was evident and twisted my own in knots. I liked Father Eric, appreciated him, but he’d been a part of Bonnie’s life since he came to Glitz when she was five years old. I stepped on the gas and shook my head, heart breaking for my best friend.
“Try not to think about it, Bonnie. Back off asshole!” I shook my head and tapped the brake. “Sorry Bon, some guy in a red SUV is riding my ass and not in a good way.”
“Maisie,” she said, a teary laugh escaping despite her best efforts.
“Sorry, Bon. Seriously dude,” I shouted out the window. “Back the fuck off!” Just when I tapped the gas, the fucker hit my bumper.
“This asshole just hit me Bonnie, I’m pulling over but I promise to be there as soon as I can. Stay put, yeah? Cops are there, right?”
I could tell she was barely holding it together when she said, “Yeah. Where else am I gonna go? I wanted to talk to Father Eric today because my parents will be gone for so long.”
Dammit, she was all alone and I’d forgotten.
“I’ll stay on the line. Obviously, Glitz isn’t as safe as I thought.”
A quick look in the side mirror as I came to a stop revealed a big ass dude with a buzz cut meant to hide his balding head coming my way.
“Great, some bald-headed fuck with a scowl on his face just hit me and is looking at me like I’m the problem. Hang tight, Bon.”
I rolled down the window and stepped out of the car.
The man wore sunglasses so the only thing I could make out besides his pale skin and bald head was the frown on his face. He stopped a couple of feet from me and said nothing.
“Just give me your insurance and we can let them sort it out.”
What the fuck was up with this creep?
“No insurance,” he growled and folded his arms in what was meant to be menacing, but the dude looked like a stiff wind could blow him over, at least compared to the men they grew in Texas. Hell even compared to Virgil and his brothers.
“Then there’s nothing for us to talk about.”
I leaned around him and got a quick look at his plate. “587 dash PTC. Perfect.”