The Genesis Plague - Michael Byrnes [103]
‘Thomas,’ the minister repeated, ‘A name straight from the gospels,’ he said. ‘Though I trust you are not a doubter, Thomas.’
‘Seeing is believing, but I’m flexible,’ Flaherty said with a smile.
‘Excellent.’ The minister stage-whispered to Brooke, ‘He’ll make a find husband, I’m sure.’
‘We’ve just moved into town,’ Flaherty explained, ‘and we were hoping to have our wedding ceremony here.’
‘I’m sure we can work that out, though the cathedral won’t be open for another three or four months.’
‘We were thinking about next October,’ Brooke said.
‘That should do just fine.’
‘While we’re here, would it be possible to meet Pastor Stokes?’ Flaherty asked.
The directness of the request caught Shaeffer off guard. ‘Oh, I’m afraid he’s indisposed at the moment.’ The minister hadn’t a clue as to why Pastor Stokes had been holed up in his office all day. Typically Stokes was a diehard advocate of ‘open-door’ management. But Shaeffer had twice been turned away by Stokes’s assistant, even when he’d made it clear that the company who’d delivered the organ had important questions about the installation. ‘Been a very busy day.’
I’m sure it has, thought Flaherty. ‘But he is here today?’ he delicately pushed.
‘Last I checked, yes,’ the minister said with growing incredulity. ‘Though for wedding arrangements, you’ll need to speak directly to our Minister of Ceremonial Rites, Maureen Timpson. And she’s on vacation until next Wednesday. I’ll gladly give you her card and some information …’
‘That won’t be necessary, Edward,’ a warm voice called out.
A tall figure materialized from the shadow beneath the balcony.
Brooke immediately recognized Randall Stokes from the glitzy picture in Flaherty’s file.
‘Well, I stand corrected.’ The minister’s blushing cheeks showed genuine surprise.
‘Did I hear “wedding”?’ Stokes said with a well-rehearsed smile. Striding down the main aisle, his artificial leg limped slightly on the incline. ‘How exciting.’
Brooke immediately understood how Stokes had achieved celebrity status. The man had presence - tall and handsome, meticulously dressed. Though she noticed his complexion was pallid and his red eyes showed fatigue.
‘I’d shake your hand, but I’m feeling a bit under the weather today,’ Stokes apologized. ‘Edward, I’ll talk to Anna and Thomas so you can finish what you’re doing.’
The minister was momentarily stumped, but knew not to question Stokes. ‘Splendid. That will do just fine. It was very nice to meet you Anna, Thomas. Once again, welcome. And we look forward to seeing you on Sunday!’ He put his hand over his heart and half bowed before ambling back towards the altar.
‘Please, walk with me,’ Stokes said, giving each of them equal attention. ‘We have so much to discuss. We can talk in my office.’
‘I figured I’d save you some trouble,’ Stokes said, pressing the button for the elevator at the end of the long corridor that connected to the lobby. ‘I’m sure you have many questions.’
Unsure of the context of his remark, Brooke and Flaherty remained silent.
‘However, if we’re all going to be honest,’ Stokes added, ‘shouldn’t you use your real name, Ms Thompson?’ He looked deep in her eyes. ‘Ms Brooke Thompson. Isn’t that right?’
Brooke gave Flaherty an uneasy glance.
Flaherty spread his hands and squared his shoulders. ‘Look Stokes—’
‘I must admit … I don’t know who you really are, my good man. And I don’t like that.’
‘Smith. John Smith,’ Flaherty replied curtly.
Stokes grinned tightly. ‘Of course. Have it your way, Mr Smith.’
The elevator chimed and the doors slid open. ‘Please,’ Stokes motioned them inside.
‘Maybe we’ll take the stairs,’ Flaherty said.
‘Fine by me, though it’s seven flights to the top.’ Stokes boarded the elevator and kept his thumb on the control panel to hold the doors.
With reluctance, Brooke and Flaherty stepped in beside him.
‘Good choice.’ Stokes pushed the top control button, the doors glided shut, and the elevator began its imperceptible ascent. Gospel music pumped in from overhead speakers.
‘How was your flight from Boston?