Free A Greater Love by Rachel Ann Nunes Page B

most of their congregations would pass the park on their way to church services.
    “We’ve approved your use of public land,” Daniel announced, coming quickly to the point. “But we cannot provide security for the display. You’ll have to watch it yourself—or accept the consequences.”
    “I think you underestimate our community,” said one of the older men. Daniel couldn’t remember which faith he represented—or which faith any of the other petitioners represented either. It was unlike his normal thoroughness. Since Cristina left, he’d felt apathetic about many things.
    “Yes,” the youngest man in the group added. “We feel this effort will generate a spirit of community, of family. Of love toward our brothers. We want to remind everyone of the great sacrifice Jesus Christ made, and what it means to us.”
    Daniel waved the words aside. He believed in Christ on some level but hadn’t visibly seen His hand moving in the lives of those around him. Would a Being of so great power even deign to notice these petitioners? What did He care about so many people scurrying around like ants? “Are you still planning on a midnight Mass, or whatever?”
    “A meeting,” the young man corrected. “At eight o’clock on Christmas Eve. All the congregations are welcome to come and sing hymns. We’ll have a brief speaker from each denomination.” His brown eyes were fervently alive, and Daniel envied his belief. But the eyes also reminded him of Cristina and her passionate plea, which sparked Daniel’s anger.
    “Do as you wish,” he nearly growled. “Just so the nearby neighbors approve.”
    “We’ve spoken to everyone,” one of the women said. Her voice was low and soft, and again Daniel was reminded of his wife.
    He didn’t look at her, but at his fingers, strumming the desk. “They agreed?”
    “Yes.”
    “Very well.” He stood up, showing their dismissal. “Good luck.”
    “Will we see you there?” the young man asked with his ever-ready smile. “The public is invited. There will be no proselytizing that night, just a relaxing evening of song and worship.”
    Daniel pasted on a return smile with difficulty. “Perhaps,” he lied. He shook hands with each person and saw them to the door. As they left, he wondered how they would feel when their statues were defaced by vandals, or even stolen.
    Well, the matter no longer concerned him. With relief, he shut the door with more force than necessary. One more problem solved. Too bad things with his wife couldn’t be fixed so easily.
    His intercom buzzed. “What is it, Claudia?” he asked, grateful for the interruption.
    “It’s Senhor Bernardino on line two.”
    Daniel smiled. António Bernardino was an old friend who’d worked with Daniel in his early years in politics. Four years before, he’d moved across the river to work for the government there. “Thanks, I’ll take it.” Daniel picked up the receiver with false bravado. “António! How have you been?”
    “Good, Daniel, good.”
    “And the family?”
    “Maria’s fine and the kids are getting big. Zé’s nearly four now. Can you believe it? And little Fernanda is two.”
    “My, how time flies,” Daniel said. The truth was he had never seen the children and asked about them only because he knew his old friend would be offended if he didn’t.
    “Yes, I haven’t seen you since … since last Christmas, wasn’t it? At your dinner party. Yeah, that was it. Cristina is one great cook. How is she anyway?”
    “She’s fine.” Daniel rushed on before António could ask anything more personal. “So what brings you to call this side of the river?”
    “Business, to tell the truth. Sad, isn’t it? That two old friends almost never talk to each other except when there’s business involved.”
    “It’s better than nothing,” Daniel said. “What can I help you with?”
    “A woman turned up dead over here last night. Natural causes, if you consider drinking yourself to death