Free Veiled Threat by Alice Loweecey Page B

ask you about that when I come back. Father Pat and I keep butting heads over it.”
    “My brain is yours to pick, but right now I really have to go. Frank?”
    “I live to serve. Sidney, back in a few.”
    _____
    Giulia waited till they were in the car to say it.
    “Are you reconciled to treating this as a case yet? Are you taking it seriously?”
    “Why do you ask?”
    “Experience. You have years more of it than I do. You see—frankly—the evil in people first, and that includes potential evil.”
    He remained silent until they were almost on top of the car rental place. “Don’t get mad. Sometimes being with you is like waiting in the Confessional.”
    Giulia flung herself against the headrest. “You are going to drive me to violence.”
    “I know it sounds awful, but what I mean is sometimes what you say reaches inside me like a fishing hook and snags the one thing I’m trying to hide.”
    “Great. Thanks. How many other oppressive descriptions of my effect on you can you think up between here and an open parking space?” She slumped in the seat.
    “I knew that would come out wrong.” He steered into the nearest available space. “What I mean is you have this thing you do without any warning. It’s like supercharged insight and I saw it when you’d only been working for me a month. It’s one of the reasons I wanted you as my assistant.”
    She scooted sideways to see his face better. “That’s complimentary … I think.”
    He nodded. “It is. In this particular case what you’ve hooked is the cynical cop part of me.” He turned off the car. “You’re right. In my head I’ve dumped this into your lap. I’ve—to be biblical—washed my hands of it.” His eyebrows met. “That’s from the Bible, right?”
    He must know how charming that look is. “I think you should attend RCIA classes with Sidney. You could stand a refresher.”
    “You’re a much more pleasant teacher. Pat and I would just argue in public like we do when we get together at home. That’d be bad for his priestly image.”
    “I’ve been called many things as a teacher. ‘Pleasant’ was never one of them.” She checked the dashboard clock. “I’ve got to go.”
    “All right.” He pulled her over the gap between seats. “Be careful. Keep it all in your head. Don’t take any notes somebody could find.” He kissed her. “Your hair looks okay. Plain Jane stuff. Jimmy had the right idea.”
    The warmth from his kiss evaporated. “Thanks. Really.”
    “What?”
    “Go ask your brothers. Even Pat could clue you in on this one.”

twelve
    The baby-blue Escort hatchback drove like only its rust held it together. The last rental Giulia drove—a tiny Kia Soul—was solid as a tank compared to this car. Stop complaining. This rust-bucket is exactly what your new persona would drive.
    At least the snow had held off for an entire day. Interstate 376 was clear and slush-free. She fiddled with the radio and found an all-Christmas station. “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,” “Frosty the Snowman,” and a series of alternating carols and Santa songs took her down the interstate. The Boston Pops’ nine-minute medley got her to the park entrance. She let “Silver Bells” play until she saw the sign for the resort.
    This story is simple. Early-morning barista who took this extra job because Christmas bills will be coming in. I wouldn’t mind if the job became permanent. Simple.
    She drove through a tunnel of pine trees at least eighty feet tall. They made the driveway so dark that the old-fashioned streetlamps lining its sides only created a parade of light-puddles. At its terminus the trees ended as though someone had guillotined them smooth. Snow glare slammed Giulia in the eyes. She braked while her vision adjusted. A group of three small buildings clustered directly in front of her across the parking lot. A white-sided two-story hotel stretched along the left side of the lot. The sidewalk next to it led to an even