Page 32 of Dark Side of the Cloth

“I have come because I was asked to consult on a case last night. They only brought me in because the man was a suspect in a case I was a part of years ago.”

“Was the case one you solved?”

“Sadly, no. But this man last night kept saying one word over and over again, and I can’t help thinking that what happened to him is connected. I’ve never seen anything like it. It was very disturbing, and it had similarities to—” He stopped talking and tapped the large Stetson against his leg. “I don’t know. It seems too farfetched.”

“What does?”

“Hmm? Oh sorry, I was thinking out loud.”

“I’m sorry, Sheriff, what you saw must have been very upsetting for you to show up here and be so distraught. How can I help?”

The sheriff leaned against the pew. His eyes averted to the wooden floor.

“I know people come to you and that they share their deepest and darkest secrets with you.” You don’t know the half of it. “I know that this is wrong to ask, but has anyone mentioned may be seeking revenge or wanting to be a vigilante?”

“You know I cannot share the secrets of those that come to me. I called you about Tim Baker because the person called as an anonymous individual not seeking the confidence of my silence, and I believe they wanted you to find what Tim had done.”

“I know, I just thought… maybe this one time you could make an exception?”

Dean sighed and made his way over to stand across from the sheriff and mirrored the relaxed position.

“I can tell you this, no one has come to me mentioning anything like what you have asked, but if you want names of those that have come to confess making ill-advised statements, I will not incriminate them.” Dean rubbed his face. “Sometimes people just need an ear. They are angry and need to vent, then ask for forgiveness for their dark thoughts. But, it’s not my belief that any of the parishioners that come into this church would actually hurt anyone.”

The sheriff tapped his hat once more against his leg.

“Yeah, I thought so too. None of them fit the profile. Thank you for sharing that with me Father, I think I just needed a few moments here in your presence and God’s. You know?”

Dean stepped forward and placed a hand on the older man’s shoulder.

“You are a good man. Take as long as you like to collect your thoughts. The Lord is here for you, as am I.”

Dean left the sheriff leaning against the pew and made his way to the office. One day he may be discovered, and one day he may need to kill to keep his secret, but luckily today was not that day, but he definitely needed to be extra careful.

Dean was coming, and Yasmine couldn’t sit still. It was like bees had infested her body and were crawling under her skin.

She looked at herself in the mirror that hung in the hallway and smoothed down the invisible wrinkles of her dress. They were going to Mabel’s, so it wasn’t exactly what one would call a romantic date, but it didn’t matter.

Dean had admitted to having feelings for her.

And she was still feeling giddy over the fact that she’d had to wipe the smile off her face as she passed by a group of busy bodies that were waiting to speak to Dean after his mass. She knew for certain that they had been gossiping about Dean and her being alone in the church together.

Yasmine glanced at the grandfather clock that was slowly ticking in the corner. His service started at five—Dean would be here any minute! She quickly applied a little lip gloss to her already rosy lips and squeezed her long curls, trying to keep the unruly locks looking tidy.

Then, she made her way toward the closet when the doorbell rang. It seemed strange for Dean to ring a doorbell. She was so used to him coming in and marching down the stairs to talk to her about an upcoming service.

“Come in. It’s open!” She pulled open the closet doors at the same time the front door opened. The first thing to assault her senses was the subtle scent of Dean’s cologne. He was the only one in the town that wore it. She had no idea what it was, but it made her smile and feel warm all over.

She pulled out the nicest dress coat she owned from the closet and turned around. As her eyes found his, she pulled in a sharp breath. The beautiful man that stood before her looked relaxed and deadly—there was an intoxicatingly dangerous aura to him that made her pulse race.

“You look beautiful, Yasmine.”

“Yazzy.”

“Pardon?” Dean held out his hand to help her with her coat.

“Those that are close to me call me Yazzy. I think it’s time I enforced the same name policy that you have when it’s just the two of us.” She turned to face Dean, pulling the long hair out from her coat and letting it purposely cascade in waves around her shoulders. She loved the way he looked at it, his eyes giving away that he was interested in more than a simple meal and coffee at Mabel’s.

“I guess fair is fair.” Dean smiled, and her insides melted into a pile of mushy goo. He stepped in close, his hand sinking into the long waves at the back of her neck. “I want to kiss you, but I may not stop if I start.”