Free The Sacred Blood by Michael Byrnes

there, business will be good, I suppose.”
    “And Cardinal Santelli?”
    His eyes met hers for a moment, then went back to his woven hands. “I take it you haven’t heard.” He told her about the cardinal’s death, which, for now, he explained simply as unexpected heart failure. Only he and God were privy to the true nature of Santelli’s demise.
    “I’m sorry” was all Charlotte could muster.
    “Well, I’m sure he’s in good hands now.” Whether they were God’s or Satan’s, Donovan wasn’t certain. Before proceeding, he knew he had to address something else too. “And Dr. Bersei—”
    “I read about it,” she said, her voice suddenly choked. “I still can’t believe . . .” Eyes watery, she had to stop herself. “Was it really an accident?” she managed in a low voice.
    The emptiness in Donovan’s chest felt instantly larger. The Vatican could spin anything. “About that . . . ,” he said, but reconsidered. “Later, actually. No time now. You see, I left the Vatican . . . after all that had happened. Returned to Ireland. Back to the homeland,” he said.
    “Temporary leave?”
    “Permanent, perhaps. Anyway, it worked out fine . . . got to spend time with my father before he passed on, God rest his soul.”
    She tsk ed and reached out to touch his hands. “So sorry.”
    “Lived a full life. He was a good man. God will take him with open arms.” Unlike me, he thought, and drew a breath before going on. Leaning forward, he looked deep into her eyes. “Something very troublesome happened to me yesterday. When I couldn’t reach you by phone, I had no choice but to come find you immediately.”
    Luckily, his checkered past in Belfast meant always keeping his Italian passport (the de facto standard for Vatican citizens) alongside his wallet, and a small travel bag was always at the ready in his motorcycle’s stow box. After the incident at the store, he’d headed straight for Belfast International and immediately got standby seating on an Aer Lingus flight bound for New York. A second booking on Continental got him to Phoenix by late morning.
    “Two men came looking for me,” he explained, “asking about the ossuary we’d studied.” The fear this brought into her eyes pained him. Guilt came fast.
    Confusion rumpled her brow. “I saw the ossuary in the news. Tough to miss the dolphin-trident etching. They said it’d been stolen,” she said, without trying to make it sound like an accusation. “Then it was anonymously returned to Jerusalem. Right after Dr. Bersei was found dead.” Hearing her own words made her consider the facts. Conspiracies immediately began spinning in her head. “Was it him?”
    Donovan shook his head. “Not Bersei.”
    She studied his shamefaced expression. “You?”
    A reluctant nod.
    “To set things right,” he said, trying to defend himself. “A long story I don’t have time to explain just yet. But the big problem is . . . I returned it empty. And it seems these two men were looking to get the skeleton back.”
    “The bones?”
    “Yes. They were very insistent. And when I chose to remove myself from the conversation”—he looked up with hard lines creasing his brow— “they came after me with guns.”
    Charlotte’s face blanched. Oddly, the first thought that struck her was industrial espionage. Could it be the miraculous gene code they were after? But only she and Evan knew about that. “Wow” was all she could say.
    “Besides me, I’m afraid you are the only person left who’s worked on the project. And . . .” His voice trailed off and he spread his hands to compensate for the lost words. He’d never anticipated all of this when he’d first acquired the ancient manuscript that told of the ossuary’s existence beneath Jerusalem’s Temple Mount.
    “You don’t think . . .” She looked hard at him. “You think they might come after me ?”
    Looking down again, he nodded. “I had to warn you.”
    At that moment, he happened to