“I tried to talk to her,” he said. “I asked for more time.”
“You made it look like her horse kicked her.” The scene in Mary’s stable played out in my head, this time with all the gaps filled in. The director’s cut. I could see Father Mathew crouched there in the shadows, waiting for Mary to go riding. Springing out and hitting her with something hard in the face. Hitting her with all the muscle he’d built up over the years. Letting Hocus out of his stanchion and leaving the perfectly staged crime.
“Please,” he whispered.
“Why did you kill Ryan?”
“I didn’t.”
“Yes, you fucking did; why lie about it now?”
“It was David,” he choked out. Blood sputtered from his mouth and spilled down the front of his gown like communion wine. “He did it.”
“Why?”
Father Mathew muttered something.
“What?”
“Because Ryan found out. About the arrangement. David let it slip one night when they were drinking, and Ryan came to me. Tried making me pay him on the side without David knowing.”
Ryan’s sure thing. The way he was going to make good on what he owed to HerringBone. He’d homed in on David’s illicit agreement and tried getting a cut of his own.
Father Mathew was crying again. “David got him drunk, and when he passed out, he . . .”
I imagined David’s hand laced over Ryan’s, holding the gun up to his friend’s head. Pulling the trigger.
“Jesus,” I said.
“Please. Please, Andy . . .”
“Shut up.” I looked to the left out toward the entry. Could’ve sworn I heard something.
Father Mathew lunged up from where he sat, and I kicked him in the chest. Hard.
He settled back down with an oof, lungs emptying. “Don’t move,” I said, starting to shake again. Could I do it? Could I hurt another human being very badly if I had to? I thought of little Joey, of Mary, of Emma and knew the answer.
“Where are they?” I asked. There was a coldness in my voice I didn’t recognize, but it steadied me. “Where are Rachel and the boys?”
“I don’t know.”
“You came back to get the business card from David’s desk to cover your tracks. You were there that night. You chased me out of the house.”
“No, it was me,” a soft voice said from my left.
30
Someone stood in the doorway, backlit enough to shade who they were. But I knew the voice.
“Elliot?” I said.
Elliot took a step into the room and raised his arm. I studied the pistol at the end of it. “Put that down, Andy.”
“What are you doing?”
“He’s crazy, Elliot,” Father Mathew said. “He ambushed me. He tried to kill me.”
“Shut up,” I said without looking at him. I was more interested in Elliot’s weapon and how he continued to train it on me. I kept my voice low and calm. “Elliot, what are you doing here?”
“I told you he was in on it,” Father Mathew said. “Why else was he in David’s house that night?”
“Is that true, Andy?” Elliot said. His voice wavered a little, and his pale face seemed to float in the gloom. “You were working with David Barren?”
“What? No.”
“He’s lying,” Father Mathew said. “That’s why he was out at Mary’s house. Why he went to Brighton. He was in on it with all of them.”
“Why were you in David and Rachel’s house that night?” I asked. Mostly to keep him talking but partly because I was still trying to add up Elliot’s appearance here.
Elliot shifted slightly, and I imagined how the muzzle flash would light the room up, how the burned gunpowder would hang thick in the air. How the bullet would feel tearing through my body. “I was looking for the lies David was holding over Father. I thought you were one of the men he owed money to. That’s why I chased you into the woods. I thought you might’ve been David’s killer.” He brought his other hand up to brace the pistol. “Maybe you are.”
My instinct was to dodge away, but I stayed frozen, trying to maintain a calm I didn’t have. “I don’t know what he told you, Elliot, but I wasn’t involved in any of this.” I gestured at Father Mathew. “He was molesting Joey Barren. David found out and blackmailed him.”
Elliot shook his head. “No, no, no. Father told me the truth. I overheard him and David talking, and he told me what was really going on. David made up the story because he owed money to bad people.”