“Well, you’re quite a catch for the Church, I can’t deny. An openly gay man who refuses to let his flaws overcome his duty to God.”
“That’s—not exactly how I’d—” I sighed and cut myself off. Father Raphael had often been clumsily insulting about my sexual orientation, without meaning to be. At least, I had decided to assume he did not mean to be. He was better than Father Benedict had been, anyway.
“And so I’m pleased to let you know that a few days ago I put in a formal recommendation for you to take on the priesthood at Our Lady of Mercy. I believe you’ll make a fine head priest there, and the parish would be very pleased to have you.”
That, I knew, was not entirely true. Many parishioners still asked me regularly when Father Benedict was coming back. They seemed to think there had simply been some kind of misunderstanding, rather than a serious issue.
But it was still a great relief to think that I wouldn’t have to leave Our Lady—that I really could be priest there, and continue my work with the youth of the parish, overhaul the Friday Fun Club, really sort out the finances of the church…It was everything I’d wanted.
“Thank you!” I said, clasping my hands together. “Thank you, Father. I can’t tell you how incredibly happy that makes me—”
“Of course, thatwillremain contingent on a few things,” Father Raphael said, with a frown. I knew exactly what he meant: my association with the Morellis. “In any case, please give the Archbishop of Boston my greetings at your ordination…” Father Raphael continued reminiscing about his old friend, the Archbishop, while I smiled and nodded.
God was granting me everything I’d secretly hoped for: a place in New York City, at my preferred church, with parishioners who already knew and accepted me.
Shouldn’t I, then, feel happier than I actually did?
“I do have some news that I feel I should share,” Father Raphael said, suddenly somber again. “The Office of the Archdiocese has completed its investigation into Father Benedict O’Sullivan, and I’m afraid they’ve found little evidence to support the corruption charges. They’ve found him innocent, Aidan. Now, he won’t be returned to Our Lady, of course—there’s no question of that, none at all. Completely inappropriate. He’s agreed to be moved to a different diocese altogether. But I did think that you should know.”
“Yes,” I said dully. “Thank you, Father.”
Chapter Eight
Teo
“You’re awful quiet,” I said to Aidan on the way back to the townhouse.
He wriggled in his seat.
“Butt warmer too hot?” I asked. “I can turn it down if—”
“No, no,” he said. “I just…”
I figured I’d let him decide in his own time if he wanted to tell me what his problem was or not. I concentrated on the drive. The Morelli town cars were fuckingsweet. Heated seats and steering wheel, pinpoint-degree climate control, bullet resistant glass and body, and the ride itself? Smooth as a well-lubed… I cut that thought off, reminding myself that I was sitting next to a priest. An almost-priest, anyway.
Still, I enjoyed the perks of my job, including the cars.
“Father Benedict has been absolved by the Office of the Archdiocese.”
“Father Benedict?”
“Remember? Benedict O’Sullivan. He was the head priest at Our Lady until—um…”
“Until the Fuscone incident,” I filled in. Didn’t seem much point pretending I didn’t know.
Aidan gave a sigh. “Yes. Father Benedict was working with Fuscone—supplying information. And he was, well. A witness to the—uh—incident.”
Aidan had been a witness as well. I’d already pieced that together months ago from occasional conversations he’d had with Finch D’Amato, and then had it confirmed the other night when I listened in. I wondered if that day still worried him. Haunted him.
God knew the first time I’d seen a man die had stayed with me.
“He was investigated for corruption and fraud,” Aidan was saying, “but Father Raphael told me just now they found no evidence of it.”
“That’s too bad.” He seemed more depressed than outraged, so I hazarded another guess. “Does that mean he’s coming back to Our Lady?”
“No.” Aidan was staring out the window.
“That’s good then, right?”
