I thought back to my first conversation with the priest, and I remembered Todd Anderson saying that he’d met Patty Swanson at a place that started with an “S.” As soon as he’d said the words, he’d acted strangely, almost as if he’d caught himself. Then, he’d said something about the place being a homeless shelter. Had he been lying?
“What is it?” Charlie asked.
“Shhh. Give me a second.” I closed my eyes, trying to recall the specifics of what he’d said. What was the name of the place? I grabbed my phone and typed in “Swanson + Texas + homeless shelter.” Nothing came up.
I tried the same combination with a variety of “S” names. Sammy’s, Sinclair’s, Smith’s. Then it hit me.Sully’s.That was the name. I typed it in, and the only result was a restaurant—or, more specifically I realized, as I clicked on the link, a honky-tonk bar with dinner and line dancing.
That meet-cute sounded more like the Patty–Todd romance that I’d seen this weekend.
I held up the phone. “This is where thesupposedpriest told me he met Patty Swanson.”
Charlie took the device and scanned the contents of the website, raising his eyebrows at the video of guests two-stepping to twangy music. “It’s not that priests can’t have a good time, but… to meet here?”
“Right. It’s strange, especially since he told me it was a homeless shelter. He made it sound like they were volunteering together.”
“Which would be a more wholesome story for someone trying to pass themselves off as a holy man,” Charlie finished for me.
I realized now that Todd had almost blown his cover in that first conversation. Sure, a priest could go to a bar. He could even line dance. But with everything else on Todd Anderson’s rap sheet, I was now sure that he was anything but a priest.
Charlie was obviously thinking the same thing. “There’s no way he’s a clergyman with the way he’s behaved. He must’ve done one of those online ordination things to legally marry people.” Astonished, he shook his head. “I’m actually relieved.”
I tried for a smile, kneeling down in front of Charlie and meeting those hazel pools of his eyes. “I think you’re safe—this time.”
Something nagged at Charlie, though. “But why lie? Why not just come as Patty Swanson’s plus-one?”
I considered that question and recalled my unofficial training with sleazebags at The Rose these past few months. “Sometimes it’s easier to hide behind a persona, I guess.”
Charlie gave me a sad smile and leaned forward to put his forehead against mine. He closed his eyes. “I’m glad you’re okay.”
I tilted my head. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. I just keep feeling like there’s something else happening this weekend, something that we can’t quite see.”
I knew exactly what he meant, but I didn’t want to believe that anything other than my best friend’s celebration was underway. Still, as I looked into his eyes, I was certain that, for both of us, the nagging feeling was here to stay. Something indeed was afoot, and I was beginning to think that whatever it was—as Momma would say—stank to high heaven.
SIXTEEN
After the altercation, the browsing at Sugar & Spice Books was half-hearted at best, and we completely gave up on our own attempts at making cute spine poetry.
As Charlie had expected to happen, the priest had passed out drunk on a wingback chair. Not knowing what other option he had, Charlie had got him to his feet and practically carried him back to the truck, which had been running in the middle of Main Street this entire time.
As if she didn’t trust the sheriff with the man, Charlotte sent Bella to accompany the priest back to the estate.
Once the two of them were inside the truck, Charlie came to me at the doorway and pulled me to him. I could tell that the last thing he wanted to do was drive Bella and Reverend Todd back to the estate.
“Stay safe, and I’ll see you at The Rose,” Charlie whispered before kissing me once, studying my face as if he was considering picking me up and driving far, far away.
I apologized to the owner of the bookstore and bought a $500-dollar gift card for her troubles, before starting toward our last stop at the Morning Brew, the coffee shop where Lacy and I had studied regularly during our last two years of high school. I wasn’tsure we should try to go now, but I didn’t have the energy to get everyone home without a strong cup of anything Gladys could whip up.With preferably a few thimblefuls of liquor in our coffees.
This time, I handed Lacy the crumpled paper with the clue from my pocket, and said simply, “We need coffee.” I didn’t even read it with her, so she read it softly to herself:
“Though a bit jittery by the end,
this place kept us afloat.
Papers, tests, finals?—
caffeine our company while we wrote.”
