The 7th Canon by Robert Dugoni

Author:Robert Dugoni [Dugoni, Robert]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: Mystery, Thriller
ISBN: 9781503939424
Amazon: B01DNJMOBM
Barnesnoble: B01DNJMOBM
Goodreads: 29904287
Publisher: Thomas & Mercer
Published: 2016-01-01T06:00:00+00:00

“You OK?”

Donley had opened his eyes. Momentarily confused, he realized he’d fallen asleep in the chair beside Father Martin’s bed and the priest was talking to him. He sat up and shook away the cobwebs. Father Martin had his head turned on the pillow, watching him.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Donley said. He was sweating and breathing heavily. He unclenched his hands, which had been balled into fists, stood, and walked to the side of the bed.

“Vicious headache,” Father Martin said.

“The turban becomes you.”

“Never thought being bald would be a virtue; at least they didn’t have to shave my head.”

Donley smiled. “One of the officers who brought you in said you put up a hell of a fight. He said you might not be alive if you hadn’t.”

“I always did have a problem with that ‘turn the other cheek’ thing. What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

Father Martin turned his head to look out the window. “It’s late. You should be home with your wife and son.”

“I’m doing hospital rounds. I went to visit my uncle earlier and thought I’d come check on you.”

“How is he?”

“Ornery as ever, which means he’s getting better. They have him walking the halls. He keeps threatening to walk right out the door. He would, too, if my aunt wasn’t there. Walk right to the office, probably. You feel up to a few questions?”

“Sure.”

“I tried to see your friend Danny a couple nights ago.”

Father Martin’s eyes widened. “Is he all right?”

“I don’t know. He left the hospital in the middle of the night. Apparently, Detective Connor paid him a visit just before he did.”

The priest’s gaze shifted to the ceiling. “He’s scared.”

“With good reason. I paid Connor a visit myself earlier today to see if he would talk to me and to hand him a subpoena.”

“How’d that go?”

“Let’s just say I wouldn’t count on him as a character witness.”

“Connor hates the shelter.”

“Why?”

“People like Connor hate just to hate. They don’t need a reason. It’s part of their DNA.” Father Martin’s eyes fluttered. He yawned.

“I’ll let you rest.”

“What about you?” the priest asked.

“No rest for me,” Donley said. “I have an evidentiary hearing to prepare for, though I intend to ask for a continuance with you lying here looking like a Saudi oil sheik and Connor refusing my subpoena. No guarantees Maximum Milt will grant it, since you really don’t need to be present, and I’m sure the district attorney will argue I’m only stalling.”

Father Martin said, “It looked like you were having a nightmare.”

Donley dismissed it. “Nothing like the one you must be having.”

Father Martin paused. Then, apparently not wanting to push the subject, he asked, “How old is your son?”

“Benny? He’s two, almost three. Why do you ask?”

“He’s with your wife?”

“Actually, he’s with his grandmother. My wife’s on call tonight.”

“She’s a doctor.”

“A resident.”

“So, he stays with your mother.”

Donley shook his head. “My wife’s mother. My mother is dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s been a few years,” he said.

“How’d she die?”

“Cancer. I was in law school. They found it too late.

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