Free Bitter Recoil by Steven F. Havill Page A

word. A rookie cop happened by and he thought I was dead. Next best thing. They took me to St. Joseph’s, and one of the nurses recognized me…she remembered when Richard Burgess and I hung out together. We used to be on rotation together as police department chaplains.
Los dos padres
, they called us. But that was a long time ago.” He hesitated, lost in his memories. My back hurt from sitting so long.
    “I didn’t have any close relatives. Just one cousin back east somewhere. The nurse knew about Cecilia Burgess and called her. That was the big mistake, I guess. That’s when it started. I held onto her like a damn leech. I guess I put her through more hell than even last night.”
    “I doubt that.”
    “Anyway, one thing led to another. I was an accomplished liar. Always have been. I could lie to myself as easily as to anyone else. I made up some of the most wonderfully creative stories…personal sob stories that suckered that poor girl right into my world. I guess it was one of those nights when she was trying to keep me from tearing the apartment apart…that’s when we started.”
    “You had sex with her, you mean?”
    “Stripped of all the niceties and excuses, that’s the gist of it.”
    “And that guilt really set you off?”
    Nolan Parris looked up sharply at my tone. He moved his jaw sideways, assessing me. “Maybe you don’t understand, Sheriff. You impress me as the kind of man who’s always known exactly where he stood, who always knows exactly what he believes.”
    “I’ve had my moments. Anyone does. But that’s not what’s at issue now. I gather the two of you didn’t stay together long?”
    “No. I can remember having long discussions with her about my leaving the clergy, after finding out she was pregnant. But I…I just couldn’t.”
    “Why not?”
    Again Parris looked at me critically, but he wasn’t in a hurry to answer. To let him off the hook a little I asked, “How did the two of you end up here, in San Estevan?”
    “She took some courses at the university, and one of them involved a field trip to the mountains around here…geology, I think it was. She fell in love with the village and had dreams of raising Daisy here, away from the city.”
    “Daisy’s the girl’s name?”
    “Yes.”
    “When did Cecilia move up here?”
    “About a year ago.”
    “And you?”
    “Me? I received the ultimatum from my bishop last August. Dry out or get out.” Parris smiled faintly. “Bishop Sanchez didn’t use those exact words.” He shrugged. “I’ve been here ever since. I could have left long before, but I’m serving as a resident counselor.”
    “And you’ve stayed dry?”
    Parris nodded slightly. There wasn’t any pride in his voice when he said, “Dry.”
    “Good for you. Even today?”
    He covered his face with two smooth hands and then cupped them under his chin. “Even today. Falling off the wagon wouldn’t have done Cecilia any tribute.”
    How noble, I thought. “What’s Daisy doing up at the hot springs with Finn?”
    I couldn’t imagine leaving a kid of mine on the mountain with a long-haired freak while her mother expired in a hospital a hundred miles away…even if I were a priest and inordinately sensitive about appearances.
    Parris’s face hardened, and I noticed the tick in his cheek again. “You have to understand, Sheriff, that even though we live in the same village, Cecilia and I see little of each other. We saw little of each other. For very obvious reasons.” He stopped in case I had to ask what the reasons were. I didn’t. “And she had been living with Finn, off and on. And was to have his child.” He held up his hands helplessly. “Now you have to believe I was going to—”
    We were interrupted by the sound of a powerful car’s engine as the vehicle slowed and then lunged down into the retreat’s driveway. The flash of headlights stabbed through the window and then I saw the wink of blue and red.
    “What the hell…” I said,