Holden dismissed the notion. "I wouldn’t really do it. I'm just talking. But I sure would like to."
"Let us handle it."
"Well, you’re not really doing a good job so far. Figure it out because I'm tired of going to funerals.” He stormed off and headed toward the bar for another drink.
We talked to Landon. He was unsettled and emotionally distraught over the loss of his friend. He wanted answers, like everybody else. Answers we didn't have.
Landon had a square jaw, a low, brooding brow, short, wavy dark hair, and an athletic physique. I’d seen him here and there on the news and in campaign ads. On most occasions, he had the fake smile of a politician, but today he wasn't smiling. "Do you have a plan to identify who is responsible for these killings?"
"I can assure you, we’re doing everything we can. Sometimes, these things just take time to play out."
"Time?" he repeated, incensed. "Every second that goes by is an opportunity for another one of us to die. It's obvious to me that these murders are connected and motivated.”
"On the surface, it would appear that way.”
"On the surface?” He scoffed. "Please, we all know who's behind this, and he’s sitting in the hospital right now. Don't you find it a little coincidental that all these deaths started occurring after that scumbag got released from prison? He should never have been let out. At least somebody had the balls to do what needed to be done."
Landon wasn’t a big fan. Nobody here was. They were all moments away from grabbing pitchforks and demanding justice. Anyone in their path would get skewered. Landon walked off, disgusted.
Somehow, we’d become the bad guys in this whole thing.
Father Flannery approached with some trepidation. He was late 50s with stark white hair, rosy cheeks, and a somewhat bulbous nose. He stood about 6'1" and had an affable, comforting demeanor. "I just want to say how shocked and appalled I am by Father Callahan's behavior. I want to assure you both that I had no knowledge that he was engaging in such activities. When he was transferred into our parish, I was given no information about his background or the allegations in Garden Grove.”
"I hope there aren’t any other victims that we’re unaware of," I said.
It was a mortifying thought, and that was evidenced by Father Flannery's expression. "Yes, indeed. I just want you to know, my door is always open if you have questions or need to discuss anything.”
"Thank you, Father."
"I'll be performing the service tomorrow for Cameron. I do hope you have some leads on who is responsible for this." He was fishing for information.
"Right now, we have no evidence to connect Darrell York to any of the deaths. But we do know the same gun was used to kill Cameron and Dr. Renick.”
Father Flannery frowned. “Well, I’ll be praying for your safety and for wisdom that you may come to the proper conclusion.”
“Thank you,” I said.
Father Flannery excused himself and moved on to comfort other mourners.
We talked to a few more people, then headed back to theAvventura. The rest of the evening was pretty low-key.
In the morning, Brenda called with the results of the blood analysis.
40
“That blood drop on Darrell’s shoe is not a match for either Cameron or Dr. Renick. I’m not saying he’s not your shooter, but this doesn’t connect him.”
I thanked her for the info before ending the call.
Daniels had put a deputy in the hospital to watch over Darrell. As long as Jacob Sweet was at large, Darrell was at high risk. I didn't think Jacob would stop until he had accomplished his mission.
I pulled myself out of bed, showered, dressed, then headed down to the galley to fix something to eat. I cracked a few eggs and sizzled bacon in the pan. The smell of fresh coffee wafted.
I flipped on the TV and caught up with current events. Paris interviewed Darrell from the hospital. With a beaming smile on his face, he lay in a bed, wearing a pale green gown. An IV dripped into his arm, and vital statistics blipped on a monitor beside the bed.
"Someone was looking out for me," Darrell said. "I’ve got a purpose and a plan. I’ve been blessed.” He paused. "Though the last time you interviewed me, I got shot. Maybe I should stop doing interviews with you," he teased.
Paris laughed. "Jacob Sweet is wanted by authorities in connection with the shooting. What are your thoughts?"
