“Rick Butler?” said Maddocks.
“I believe that was his name, yes.”
“Did she tell you anything about her new boyfriend, about these other males she allegedly slept with?”
“I’ve told you what I can, detectives. And now, I must go.”
“When did you last actually see Gracie yourself?” Maddocks said.
The door to the inner part of the cathedral opened behind them. The woman who’d been saying her rosary exited. As the door swung slowly shut, the strains of an organist warming up were joined by a high, sweet voice—a young boy starting to sing ...Ave Marie—aaaah ...
Terror kicked through Angie.
She shot a glance at the gap between the exit doors, her heart banging hard against her ribs.
“Sunday before last,” the priest said. “For Mass, during the sacrament of Holy Communion.”
“Thank you, Father,” she muttered quickly, and she shoved out the exit doors into snow. Fat flakes wafted softly in the misty halos of the streetlights. Outside the bells resounded in a clattering cacophony through the canyons of the buildings. Growing louder ... louder ... louder. Angie stared at the red emergency sign of the hospital across the street, through the madness of the swirling flakes, the bells, the sweet high sound of the hymn being drowned by bells, that glowing red sign, the cross, the snow ... it all built to a blinding roar inside her skull ...
Flee! ... Uciekaj! Uciekaj!
Maddocks’s voice reached her, as if from deep inside a tunnel. “What do you make of him, the celibate priest, and his relationship with Gracie, them talking about sex?”
They were walking beneath the gargoyles of Saint Jude’s now toward the red hospital sign. How had they gotten here? Had they crossed the street? They were nearing the red emergency sign.
Get inside! Wskakuj do srodka, szybko!
Siedz cicho! Stay quiet!
A woman’s shrill scream sliced through the noise. And everything went dead silent. Angie couldn’t hear a thing. She couldn’t see anything, just the red sign behind the falling flakes. She was blind. Danger. Pain. Everywhere.They’re coming...
Her hand went under her coat, to her hip. With a rapid, well-rehearsed movement, she unsheathed her carbon-fiber knife, flicked it open ... went into a crouch ...
CHAPTER 45
Shock slammed through Maddocks. Beside him, Pallorino had frozen into a crouch, and it was as if her boots had rooted into the ground. Her complexion had turned ghost white. Her eyes, like big black holes, appeared to stare sightlessly at the hospital emergency entrance. She started to rock slowly side to side as she waved the blade of her knife in front of her.
“Pallorino?”
She shifted rapidly to face the sound of his voice, her mouth open. She was panting lightly and now brandishing the knife at him.
“Angie—you okay?”
She lunged forward with the blade, and he jerked back in surprise. “Jesus, Pallorino, what is it?”
A sheen of sweat covered her skin. Concern, worry stabbed through him.
“Angie!Can you hear me? Talk to me!”
She moved fast, gunning the tip of the knife straight at his gut. He grabbed her wrists, wrenching her arms to his right as he swung his body out of the way of the blade. He twisted her arms, hard. “Drop the knife!”
She yelled something unintelligible, foreign-sounding. Maddocks heaved his weight to the side while still gripping her wrists. This wrenched her off balance, and it forced her to bend at the waist. But she surprised him by suddenly moving along with his force instead of fighting it. At the same time her right elbow came up and cracked into his nose. Pain sparked through his skull. The taste of blood filled the back of his nasal passages. His eyes burned.
She broke free and jumped backward, resuming her stance. Again, she waved the knife at him, eyes wild, glittering. She now had him cornered in an alcove. She’d kill him if she could—he didn’t doubt it. His mind went to his gun in its holster.
Instead, he put both palms up, eyes watering, gouts of blood gushing from his nose. At the same time he adjusted his stance so that he could go for his weapon in case he was forced to. “It’s okay,” he called out loudly. “It’s okay. Just me. Maddocks. James Maddocks. Your partner, Angie.Pallorino!For Chrissakes, stand down!”
She lunged forward, swiped. The sharp tip of her blade cut through the sleeve of his thick wool coat. He used her motion to swing around and grab her again, and he smashed her shoulder-first against the stone wall, yanking her hands behind her back and twisting until her fingers released and the knife clattered to the sidewalk.
