Free ABSOLUTION (A Frank Renzi novel) by Susan A Fleet

you.”
    The rich spicy aroma inside the rectory made Frank’s mouth water. Brisk footsteps sounded overhead, and an older man in a Roman collar descended the stairs, exuding an air of bustling vitality. Close to six feet tall, he was slender and wiry, and appeared to be in his sixties.
    “ This is Detective Renzi,” the woman said.
    “ New Orleans Police Department,” Frank added.
    “ Hello there, Detective Renzi!” Daily exclaimed, flashing a big smile. “How can help you?”
    An effusive greeting and a big smile, but Frank detected wariness in the priest’s sapphire-blue eyes.
    “ Perhaps he’d like coffee,” the woman said in a voice tinged with reproach.
    “ Of course. I’m forgetting my manners.” The priest put his hand on her arm and left it there a moment longer than necessary. “Detective Renzi, this is Aurora Laussade, my housekeeper.”
    “ Nice to meet you, Aurora. No need to be formal. Call me Frank.”
    “ Frank it is then. Aurora, could you bring the coffee to my office?”
    The mouth-watering aromas grew stronger as they went down the hall. Before entering the priest’s office, Frank glimpsed a kitchen table set for two. Daily waved him into an arm chair and settled into a high-backed chair behind a large oaken desk strewn with papers. Aurora brought two mugs of steaming coffee into the office and set them on the desk.
    “ Thank you, Aurora,” Daily said, smiling at her fondly as she left.
    More than fondly, more like intimately, Frank thought, observing Daily’s expression. “What happened to the school? It looks vacant.”
    “ The Archbishop closed it the year after I came here.” Daily pinched the bridge of his nose with nicotine-stained fingers. “Kids grow up, families leave. We had to lay off some teachers, and then the football coach got a job that paid better. I never cared for football. Basketball’s my game. I still shoot hoops with the boys, but this town loves the Saints.” Daily chuckled, his eyes full of mirth. “The football team, I don’t know about the others. After the football coach left, we lost more students, contributions fell off and—”
    “ Where you from, Sean? Not New Orleans, right?”
    Daily shook a cigarette out of a pack of Best Buys. “California.”
    “ Really? From your accent I would have guessed New England. Whereabouts in California?”
    “ Caspar.” Daily lit the cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke, eyeing him steadily. “A little town north of San Francisco. I doubt you’d know it.”
    “ What made you decide to be a priest?”
    “ Nothing specific. I guess you could say I had the calling early.”
    “ Where’d you go to school? Or was it a seminary?”
    “ Seminary. St. John’s in Rochester, Minnesota. Ages ago.” Daily set his cigarette down in a butt-filled ashtray, steepled his fingers in front of his mouth and looked away.
    He’s lying about something . “Been here long?”
    “ At St. Elizabeth’s, you mean? Almost fifteen years. Before that I served at St. Bart’s in Metairie for ten years. Before that St. Mary’s in Thibodaux.” A broad grin made his startlingly-blue eyes crinkle at the corners. “That’s where I met Aurora.”
    “ Did you know any of the serial killer victims?”
    The priest’s grin disappeared. “Did I know them?”
    “ Lynette Beauregard was one of your parishioners.”
    He made it a statement, a technique he often used during interviews. If the person knew you already had the information, he was less apt to deny it. And Frank got the feeling Daily wasn’t going to be very cooperative.
    “ Yes, she was.” The priest lit another cigarette and lowered his gaze to a yellow legal pad on his desk.
    “ How well did you know her? Ever talk to her alone, one on one?”
    “ Once or twice. I get on well with kids, boys especially. Shoot a little hoop with them, get them relaxed. Once they knew I wasn’t going to beat up on them for making a bit of mischief, they’d open up to me.”
    “ Did