Dark Manna by Bruce E. Weber

Author:Bruce E. Weber
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: catholic, mystery suspense, indianapolis, crime and suspense, bruce e weber
Publisher: Bruce E. Weber

Sitting in Jack Grimaldi’s patrol car, Father Gerry struggled to get a grasp of what had happened. The pain and nausea he felt were real enough, but the idea that somebody had tried to kill him was still too unreal. The muggers seemed to know he’d be walking along that path, so maybe it hadn't been a random attack, but what was it all about? He sipped ginger ale to ease his roiling stomach. His hand trembled when he raised the can to his lips.

Grimaldi scribbled on a yellow form lit by the neon light of the 7-11 sign, filling out the paperwork for an assault. He wanted to call an ambulance, but Father Gerry insisted he was okay. He couldn’t give much detail, just that one of the guys was tall and the other short, and that both were wearing ski masks.

When he finished the form, Grimaldi put his pen in his shirt pocket, turned in his seat and took a sip of coffee from a Styrofoam cup. “I got a couple things to say, Father, and I want you to know I’m saying them for your own protection. I mean no disrespect.”

Father Gerry nodded. He wanted another drink of ginger ale, but his hand would shake and he didn’t want Grimaldi to see that.

“First thing is, word’s gotten around that you pay all your contractors in cash. When you go out on these late-night walks, somebody who knows that is liable to be looking for a chance to rob you. Might be better if you found another way to exercise.”

Father Gerry’s throat was too raw to speak, but thirst overcame pride and he raised the ginger ale to his lips.

“Second, and I hope you know I’m saying this for your protection.” Grimaldi paused and looked away. “If you’re gay, Father, and like, looking for companionship? Hawthorne Park’s a bad place to look.”

The last of the ginger ale caught in the priest’s throat and he choked it up. The fizzy liquid stung his throat and dribbled out his nostrils. He shook his head and squirmed to get his handkerchief from his back pocket.

When he'd recovered, Grimaldi steered out of the lot. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up in front of the rectory. He stopped the car, turned off the headlights, and watched the rearview mirror for oncoming traffic. Father Gerry was about to get out when Grimaldi extended his hand for him to wait. “You sure you’re feeling okay, Father?”

Father Gerry nodded.

“If you remember anything that might be useful, you’ll get back to me, right?”

“I promise.”

“Can I ask you a quick question, about something else?”

Father Gerry sat back in his seat.

“Did you know Father Albert Raines? He used to be at St. Stephens’s, but he left last summer sometime. I heard he got posted to the Vatican. You ever hear anything about that?”

“You’re the second person to ask me about him,” Father Gerry said. The pains in his back and chest were getting worse, but he tried to appear concerned about Grimaldi’s question.

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