Free The Pastor’s Jezebel Lover by Nic Saint

refused to grant him a divorce. And when they fell in love and started an affair, you became so jealous you vowed to kill her and destroy his life in the process.”

Chapter 15

    “It’s simply ridiculous,” Eileen countered. “Why would I murder my own attorney after announcing my intention to do so?”
    Howe raised his hands. “A woman in a jealous rage will make a lot of mistakes.”
    “Trust me, I wasn’t jealous of Jack,” she scoffed. “I didn’t begrudge him any of his many affairs. I was merely glad to be rid of him. Or at least I thought I was.” She leaned in. “You have to dig deeper, officer Howe. If Jacqueline was really Jack’s lover, something else is going on here.”
    “Like what?”
    “I don’t know. But I’m sure you’ll find out.” If appealing to his intelligence was intended to mollify the policeman, it obviously didn’t.
    He stabbed his finger at her. “You’re the one with the motive, Miss Stoker. As far as I’m concerned, this murder has your name written all over it.”
    “Just ask Father Ramon where I was last night. He’ll confirm my statement.”
    “Trust me. I will. How long did you stay at his place?” he added innocently.
    “I left there around four this morning.”
    “Anybody see you leave?”
    “I made sure no one would. I was concerned about his reputation.”
    He nodded thoughtfully. “You went straight home?”
    “I did.”
    “Anyone to confirm this?”
    She was starting to feel weary about this line of questioning, but felt it was probably all part of the process. “My mother was already asleep when I arrived. I didn’t want to wake her up so to answer your question, no one saw me.”
    “What did you to do once you arrived home?”
    “I went straight to bed.”
    The police officer grinned and tapped his notebook with his pencil. “I’m afraid I lied to you, Eileen. Miss Doulard was killed between four and six this morning. And now that it’s clear you don’t have an alibi for this time period, I think we have our killer.”

    Ramon sat quietly contemplating recent events. He’d raced through early morning traffic until he finally arrived at a posh villa on the outskirts of his home town of Arradene, fifty miles from Brookridge.
    It was a testament to their friendship that Frank Ruffalo had immediately cleared his schedule for this emergency meeting. Ruffalo and Ramon had been high school friends, and even when their paths had gone in different directions, they’d kept in touch and their friendship had endured.
    While Ramon had chosen the way of the Lord, Frank had walked the path of justice and had studied law. He’d since made quite a career for himself as an attorney, and it was in this capacity that Ramon was now paying him a house call.
    Moments after he’d bid him to take a seat in the waiting area, his friend returned and ushered him into his office.
    A big man with impressive sideburns—a relic of a rebellious youth—Frank hadn’t changed a bit, Ramon thought. His ruddy face still round and jolly, his piercing blue eyes still exuding a raw intelligence and the tenacity any lawyer worth his salt needs to carve out a name for himself.
    He was glad to see his old friend, and he told him as much, and while the other barely moved a muscle throughout his long tale, he knew the lawyer was taking in all the details of the case, and his agile mind was already searching for avenues to pursue and possible leads to chase.
    “This is quite a story, my friend,” finally concluded Ruffalo. “And you’re telling me you love this woman? You’re contemplating matrimony?”
    “I am,” confirmed Ramon.
    With a twinkle in his eye, Frank added, “Love, huh?”
    Ramon decided to forego his usual reticence and confide in his friend. “I care for her a great deal, Frank. And yes, I think it’s love, though I can’t deny the urges of the flesh might have something to do with it as well. She’s beyond gorgeous.” He produced a photograph he’d