“Ever stole money from the collection basket?”
“Of course not.”
“Drink too much Communion wine?”
“No.”
“I have no use for you,” Luther says.
“Would you consider letting some of the others go? I would happily stay in their place.”
“Didn’t you just hear what I said?”
“What?”
“I have no use for you.”
Luther draws his Glock.
The priest’s eyes show a moment of total shock and terror, but they quickly recover, now filling with a deep, horrified sadness.
Finally, they glow with intense purpose.
“Allow me a moment, my son?” the priest asks.
“Take your moment.”
The priest shuts his eyes, and with a whisper, begins to pray.
When he’s finished, Luther levels the gun on him. “Now you’re ready to meet your maker?”
“Yes.”
“No fear at all?”
“The Lord is my shepherd. I fear no evil.”
Luther nodded.
Then he stood up and shot him five times in the legs. It was only when he was sure the priest did indeed fear evil that Luther put a bullet in his head.
April 1, 3:00 P.M.
“How we doing on gas, D?”
Her partner glanced over. “Quarter of a tank.”
“We gonna make it?”
“You better hope so. Otherwise, I’m gonna peddle your ass on the street. How many tricks you think you’ll have to turn to make five dollars?”
“You’re an asshole.”
They passed another road sign.
Just fifty-nine miles to go.
They’d be there within the hour.
With what little was left of her tongue, Lucy could almost taste how sweet this was going to be.
April 1, 5:30 P.M.
Luther stares at his laptop screen, drawing in a deep breath.
Then he begins to scream at the top of his lungs, “Oh, God, help me! Please help me! JESUS CHRIST, SOMEONE HELP!”
April 1, 6:00 P.M.
I didn’t bother fighting it.
Not this time.
I let Herb wield his power, and the Chicago Police Department checked me and Phin into the Congress Hotel under fake names. McGlade got the room next to mine. They put two officers in plainclothes down in the lobby to monitor all coming and going.
Phin and Harry had gone back to my house for my clothing and sundries, to ship Duffy the dog to Duffy the person in NY, and to set up Mr. Friskers with the portion-controlled food and water dispenser and automatic litter box cleaner. Once again I tried to talk to Phin about the proposal, but he’d folded his arms and shut me down with a “Not now.”
Hell hath no fury like a bank robber scorned.
That made me wonder if the engagement ring had been purchased with ill-gotten gain, which made me wonder how far said ring had traveled through Duffy’s digestive tract. I felt my blood pressure skyrocket at the thought of Phin taking Duffy for a walk before driving him out to the airport. Worst-case scenario, I’d borrow a metal detector from McGlade and spend a few hours hunting through my backyard for buried treasure.
I sat on the queen-sized bed and picked up the phone on the nightstand. Herb had already given me an unneeded lecture about using my iPhone. A techie from the crime scene team had cloned my number, so the cops and Feds would receive every call I did, in an effort to pinpoint Luther’s location if he called again.
I knew the inherent difficulty in tracing cell phone calls and didn’t hold out much hope. But I didn’t want the Feebies recording my private conversations.
I called Duffy the guy and was relieved when he picked up, which made me realize how few friends I had. I wondered if that was by choice, or if I was simply an unlovable workaholic.
“FedExing the beast my way?” he asked.
“Phin is right now. I’ll send you the arrival info when I get it. Also…there’s a problem with Duffy.”
“Is he licking himself too much? That’s not a problem so much as a lifestyle choice.”
“Phin proposed to me, and Duffy ate the ring.”
“Off your finger?”
“It wasn’t on my finger yet.” I felt awful saying it, and Duffy was kind enough to let it slide.
“So you need me on poop patrol?”
I let out an exasperated sigh. “I’m sorry, Duffy.”
“No sweat. My hound, Al, once ate all of my keys. They were on a leather keychain, which he digested. Then he pooped them out one at a time. Took me eight days to get my car key back. I had to take a cab to a boxing match, which cost more than the purse I won.”
“What kind of purse was it? Gucci?”
“You sure you’re a cop and not one of those stand-up comics?”
“Thanks again, Duff. I really owe you for this.”
“No biggie, Jack. Maybe one day I’ll need you to pick through some of my dog’s poop. You never know.”
I thanked him again and hung up.
Then I used my iPhone to access Google and read up on Roe vs. Wade.
John Doe and Jane Doe are often used in the legal system as placeholder names for anonymous or unknown defendants. When plaintiffs are anonymous, the names used are Richard Roe and Jane Roe. In 1970, Roe filed suit against Henry Wade, the Dallas district attorney representing the state of Texas. The case eventually went up to the U.S. Supreme Court, which deemed abortion a fundamental right under the Constitution.
Though the hotel room was warm and a bit stuffy, I shivered. If Herb was right, and Luther wanted to kill my baby, I wasn’t sure what point he was trying to make. Surely a serial killer like Luther wasn’t pro-life. Maybe this was just a coincidence?
I Googled “Roe” and “Chicago” and came up with hits on the late patent attorney’s office, a used office furniture company, and the Regional Office of Education on the Illinois State Board. The cops already had people stationed at both the furniture store and the State Board, but neither of these felt right to me. It didn’t seem to be the direction Luther was pointing me.
Next I tried “Wade” and “Chicago” only to be inundated with articles about the Miami Heat basketball player Dwayne Wade, who was born in the Windy City.
Finally, I tried “Roe” on its own.
Roe was the name for fish eggs and business speak for Return on Equity. The Environmental Protection Agency also had a Report on the Environment which they called ROE.
Perhaps Luther was going with the first name instead of the last this time, so I tried “Chicago” and “Peter.”
Nothing concrete.
I added “landmark” to the search, hoping Google would reveal a Peter building, park, or museum.
Nada. Zip. Zilch.
I rubbed my eyes. The screen was getting blurry, probably from squinting at the small text. The rubbing didn’t make things any clearer, and I had a sudden attack of vertigo, the room beginning to spin. I held onto the armrests of my chair so I didn’t fall off, and then willed myself not to pass out.