Free Murder in the Irish Channel (Chanse MacLeod Mysteries) by Greg Herren Page B

liked it. “That’s the kind of scandal that could make the archbishop back down for sure.”
    “Which would mean St. Anselm’s would get to stay open.” She smiled and nodded. “And she gets to be the big hero who saved the church. I like it, boss, I like it a lot. Who wouldn’t want to be a hero in front of the whole congregation?”
    “And that’s a really good reason for both Barras and the archdiocese to want her to just disappear,” I mused. “But why pay her off in the first place?” I shrugged. “That’s the piece that really doesn’t fit. Wouldn’t it make more sense to threaten to keep Jonny from fighting?”
    The waitress placed our food on the table and refilled our glasses.
    I took a bite of my po’boy and almost moaned in pleasure. The Please You’s homemade onion rings were far and away the best in New Orleans. I made a puddle of ketchup on my plate and dragged an onion ring through it. “The only person who can explain why she didn’t cash it, though, is Mona.”
    “You don’t really think she’s still alive, do you?”
    I shook my head. “She’s been missing for three days, Abby. There’s no reason I can think of why anyone would kidnap her. It’s not like she’s got money for a ransom, or her family. And kidnapping her didn’t stop the protests at St. Anselm’s, either—if anything, it would mean more negative publicity for the church.” I chewed another bite of my po’boy.
    Abby nodded. “Leader of church protest disappears.”
    “And Ed Browning—he’s one of the protesters I just met with at the church—he’s convinced the archbishop is behind it.” I went on, “And I’m sure a lot of people would believe it.”
    “He’s not exactly a popular man in town. And it’s not like Archbishop Pugh hasn’t been involved in a massive cover-up before.”
    I stared at her for a moment and closed my eyes. “Let me guess—kids molested by priests?”
    “It’s almost a cliché, isn’t it?” She shook her head, muffling a burp behind her hand. “But yes. Archbishop Pugh was heavily involved in one of those scandals when he was in Baltimore. Two of the priests he covered for were eventually arrested years later, that’s why Pugh was moved out of Baltimore and brought here…Pugh paid out a lot of money covering up for those bastards in Baltimore, and they molested God only knows how many other kids after they were reassigned from there.” She scowled. “I just don’t understand that mentality. Why would the Church cover up for child molesters? I mean, it’s disgusting.”
    “Well, I’m sure they thought they were protecting the Church, and that’s the most important thing to them.” I frowned. “It’s good to know the archbishop has no problem with circumventing the law,” I said. “But kidnapping someone?”
    Abby shrugged. “It’s all a matter of degrees, isn’t it? Once you’ve covered up the crime of child abuse, what’s a little kidnapping? Or murder? Or bribery?”
    “On the other hand, it could have been just some kind of random crime…but her car wasn’t at the church and isn’t at her house. And she wasn’t there Friday morning when the Brownings showed up to take over the vigil. But she definitely showed up on Thursday night.”
    “And the police haven’t found her car anywhere?” Abby squirted ketchup on a stray piece of fried shrimp before popping it into her mouth.
    “Not yet.” I kept thinking as I finished my po’boy. I leaned back against the back of the booth, stuffed and feeling dangerously close to exploding. I covered my mouth and belched. “Then again, Delvecchio’s not exactly known for his work ethic, so he may not have even filed the plate number.” I rubbed my forehead. “So, whoever took her also possibly took her car—and it must have happened while she was at the church.” I pulled my notebook out of my pocket and flipped it open. “I need to talk to the guy she was seeing. And I want to talk to her other