Alex Kava Bundle - Alex Kava [95]
“Can I get you some coffee?” Father Keller asked, sounding as if he genuinely wanted to please his guest.
“No, thanks. This won’t take long.” Nick unzipped his jacket and pulled out a notepad and pen. His hand ached. The knuckles bled through his homemade bandage. He tucked it up into the sleeve of his jacket to avoid attention.
“I’m afraid there’s not much I can tell you, Sheriff. I think he simply had a heart attack.”
“Excuse me?”
“Father Francis. That is why you’re here, isn’t it?”
“What about Father Francis?”
“Oh dear, God. I’m sorry. I thought that was why you were here. We think he had a heart attack and fell down the basement steps sometime this morning.”
“Is he okay?”
“I’m afraid he’s dead, God rest his soul.” Father Keller picked at a thread on his robe and avoided Nick’s eyes.
“Jesus, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
“I’m sure it’s a shock. It certainly was for all of us. You served mass for Father Francis, didn’t you? At the old St. Margaret’s?”
“Seems like ages ago.” Nick stared into the fire, remembering how fragile the old priest had looked when he and Maggie questioned him.
“Excuse me, Sheriff, but if you’re not here about Father Francis, what is it I can help you with?”
For a moment the reason escaped him. Then Nick remembered Maggie’s profile. Father Keller matched the physical characteristics. His bare feet even looked about a size twelve. But like his hands, his feet looked too clean, too smooth to have been out in the cold, trampling through rocks and branches.
“Sheriff Morrelli? Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. Actually, I just had a few questions for you about…about the summer church camp you sponsor.”
“The church camp?” Was the look one of confusion or alarm? Nick couldn’t be sure.
“Both Danny Alverez and Matthew Tanner were in your church camp this past summer.”
“Really?”
“You didn’t know?”
“We had over two hundred boys last summer. I wish I could get to know them all, but there just isn’t time.”
“Do you have pictures taken with all of them?”
“Excuse me?”
“My nephew, Timmy Hamilton, has a photo of about fifteen to twenty boys with you and Mr. Howard.”
“Oh, yes.” Father Keller raked his fingers through his thick hair, and only then did Nick realize it wasn’t wet. “The canoe photos. Not all the boys qualified for the races, but, yes, we did take pictures with the ones who qualified. Mr. Howard is a volunteer counselor. I’ve tried to include Ray in as many church activities as possible ever since he left the seminary last year and came to work for us.”
Howard had been in a seminary. Nick waited for more.
“So Timmy Hamilton is your nephew? He’s a great kid.”
“Yes, yes, he is.” Did he dare ask more questions about Howard or was the distraction exactly what Father Keller wanted? There was no need to have mentioned Howard leaving the seminary.
“You started a similar church camp for boys at your previous parish, didn’t you, Father Keller? In Maine.” Nick pretended to look at his notepad, though it was blank. “Wood River, I believe it was.” He watched for a reaction, but there was none.
“That’s right.”
“Why did you leave Wood River?”
“I was offered an associate pastor position here. You might say it was a promotion.”
“Were you aware of a murder of a little boy in the Wood River area just before you left?”
“Vaguely. I’m not sure I understand your line of questioning, Sheriff. Are you accusing me of having some knowledge about these murders?”
Still, there was no alarm in his voice, no defensiveness, only concern.
“I’m just checking as many leads as possible.” Suddenly, Nick felt ridiculous. How could Maggie ever have led him to believe that a Catholic priest was capable of murder? Then it hit him. “Father Keller, how did you know I served mass for Father Francis at the old