Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [105]
“Of course, I understand. And I’m relieved to know it wasn’t anything I did. After all, we hadn’t even met.”
Nick watched the priest’s face. Maggie’s apology relaxed him. Even his hands dropped to his sides, no longer wringing behind his back.
“I was just about to make myself some hot tea. Can I get some for the two of you?”
“We are here on official business, Father Keller,” Nick said.
“Official business?”
Nick watched the young priest stuff his hands into the deep pockets of the cassock, suddenly uncomfortable, though his voice appeared remarkably calm. Nick couldn’t help wondering if this, too, was something Father Keller had learned in the seminary. He pulled the warrant from his jacket pocket and began unfolding it, while he said, “Last night we noticed the old pickup you have out back.”
“Pickup?” Father Keller sounded surprised. Was it possible he didn’t know or, again, was this only a part of his schooling?
“The one in the trees. It matches the description a witness gave of a pickup she saw Danny Alverez get into the day he disappeared.” Nick waited and watched. Maggie stood silently by his side, but he knew she would memorize every twitch and shift Father Keller made.
“I don’t know if that old thing even runs. I think Ray uses it when he goes to chop wood out by the river.”
Nick handed Father Keller the warrant. The priest held it by its corner and stared at it as though it were a foreign object, secreting slime.
“Like I told you last night,” Nick said calmly, “I’m just trying to follow up on as many leads as possible. You probably know that the sheriff’s department has come under considerable fire lately. I just want to make sure no one can say we didn’t check. Do you have the keys, Father?”
“The keys?”
“To the pickup?”
“I can’t imagine that it’s locked. Let me put on a coat and some boots, and I’ll go back with you.”
“Thanks, Father. I appreciate it.” Nick watched the priest go to the side of the fireplace and slip on the pair of rubber boots he had noticed last night. So, they were Keller’s boots. Last night, he had told Nick that he hadn’t left the rectory. But then Nick reminded himself that snow-covered boots could mean that Keller had only stepped out to get more wood.
The three of them started for the door. Suddenly, Maggie grabbed on to a small table and doubled over.
“Oh, God. I think I’m going to be sick again,” she mumbled.
“Maggie, are you okay?” He glanced at Father Keller and whispered, “She’s been like this all morning.” Then to Maggie, “What in the world did you drink last night?”
“Could I use your restroom?”
“Oh, sure.” Father Keller’s eyes darted across the floor, his obvious concern directed at the pearl-white carpeting. “Down the hall, second door on the right,” he said quickly, as if to hurry her along.
“Thanks. I’ll catch up with you guys.” She disappeared around the corner, holding her side.
“Will she be okay?” Father Keller seemed concerned.
“She’ll be fine. Believe me, you don’t want to be too close. Earlier she made a mess all over my boots.”
The priest grimaced and glanced at Nick’s boots, then followed him outside to the back of the rectory.
Drifts encased the pickup, forcing them to shovel a path and dig out the old metal heap. The door stuck then creaked, metal grinding against metal, as Nick jerked and pulled it open. A musty, pent-up smell hit Nick’s nostrils. The cab looked as though it had been closed up and unused for years. Disappointment stabbed at Nick. He was tired of coming up with empty leads. Still, he crawled into the cab with the flashlight and absolutely no clue as to what he was even looking for. Perhaps he should leave the search to the experts, but they were running out of time.
He lay on the cracked, vinyl seat then stretched and twisted his arm, allowing his hand to blindly search under