To Have and to Heist(89)

Twenty-Five

Everything went perfectly the morning of the wedding until it didn’t.

“Where’s the priest?”

Jack tied a swath of white chiffon to the delicate curved wedding arch on the Angelinis’ back lawn, where the ceremony would take place. He’d decorated the aisle with lilies, hydrangeas, and sprays of pink roses, and sprinkled rose petals between the seats. With so much natural beauty already packed into the setting, it was truly magical.

“I haven’t seen him.” Jack added a sprig of greenery to the arch. “But the organist mentioned he wasn’t happy you’d made him come so early. Maybe she knows where he went.”

As if on cue, the organist played the first few chords of the theme song to The Phantom of the Opera. I’d dreamed of playing Christine in our middle school production of the play, but the school didn’t want a Christine who was always off-key.

“I wasn’t leaving anything to chance,” I said. “This day has to be perfect. I’ll go talk to her and find out what’s going on.”

I went in search of the organist. She knew the priest well. He was old and tired easily, so maybe he’d gone to find somewhere to rest. We walked through the main floor of the house, knocking on doors.

“Maybe he’s still asleep,” I said. “He might have gone on an all-night prayer bender and now he’s hungover after one too many Hail Marys.”

My sacrilegious joke failed to amuse.

We found the priest unconscious in a puddle of soup on the kitchen floor. I called an ambulance and the paramedics whisked him away to the hospital. I assured a horrified Mrs. Angelini that we would find a replacement, but after a valiant effort and many phone calls to church administrators, I was unable to find a priest available on short notice. I checked online but there were no “Dial a Priest” services that could deliver.

“We can’t have a wedding without a priest.” I sank into one of the outdoor chairs while Jack fluffed organza beside me. My first wedding was going to be over before it began, and with it our heist, Bella’s escape, and my chance at saving Chloe.

“Gage used to be a priest,” Jack reminded me. “He’s out front waiting for the elephant.”

“Thank God.” I looked up at the sky. “No offense.”

Gage was sitting on the steps beside Chloe. No words were being shared. I didn’t understand a relationship that seemed to be silence only.

“Gage!” I ran up to join them. “I need a priest. You used to be a priest. Can you do the ceremony?”

“As I told you before . . .” He lifted an eyebrow in censure. “I was released from my sacred duties. I cannot defile a sacred sacrament with my unholy presence in the sight of God.”

“Not really where I saw this one going,” I said, catching the negativity vibe. “If you can run around shooting people, why can’t you pretend to be a priest? I can’t follow your logic.”

“That’s religion for you.”

“If he were an ordained minister,” Chloe said, “he could perform the ceremony.” She scrolled through her phone. “He can register online. A few clicks and he can be legally ordained to perform weddings. It’s fast, free, and easy, and registration gives him access to training materials and a wedding ceremony script generator. He even gets a certificate. It says here this is one of Earth’s largest and most active religious organizations.”

“What about Mars?” Gage asked. “Are they big on Mars, too?”

“Don’t be grumpy,” Chloe said. “You’ll also be able to do baptisms and funerals. Just think of it as a new skill set that will open you up to a world of new possibilities.”

“Only you could see this as a good thing,” Gage murmured under his breath, but not before his dark eyes softened.

“I see a bad thing, too.” Chloe scrolled through her phone. “You have to wait forty-eight hours to get your certificate.” She checked her phone again. “Or we can pay an extra fifty dollars for expedited four-hour processing.”

“That’s perfect,” I said. “Gage could even do a minister-priest wedding mash-up.” My mind was racing, my heart was pounding, and I felt totally and utterly alive.

“Your irreverence is killing me,” Gage said. “I have a feeling that deities of all cultures will be lined up to kick your ass into Hell when the day comes.”

“Are you going to wear robes?” Chloe flushed, her voice dropping to a husky rasp. I’d almost forgotten she had a thing for books about kinky priests.

Gage studied her with interest. “Do you want me to wear robes?”

“Yes.” She swallowed hard and licked her lips.

“I’ll wear robes.”

For a moment I was torn between throwing a bucket of water over them and calling the hospital to check up on the priest. Since I was a professional, I made the call, and immediately wished I hadn’t.

“The priest was poisoned,” I told Mr. Angelini in his office after I got off the phone. “They think it was the soup. I checked in the kitchen for the pot to send them a sample for the lab, but I couldn’t find it.” I’d already talked to Rose when I searched the kitchen. She was busy managing the catering staff, but she assured me she was all over the case of the poisoned priest.