Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery) (38 page)

She
glanced down at the scrapbook
and saw that it
contained numerous newspaper clippings that were
slightly
yellowed with age
.
In the middle of the
first
page
, there was a grainy
black and white
photograph of four young women
.
They were
standing
next to each other,
beneath a banner with “SETON HIGH SCHOOL”
printed
in bold, black letters
, smiling for the camera
. They were all
wearing
the matching uniforms of the local girls’ catholic high school
.
One of them was the same
girl
as the one in the
picture
frame.

This must’ve been someone
Father Andrew
loved very much for him to keep a shrine to her all these years
,
she
thought
.
Her eyes traveled up the page to the headline,
“Local teenager
s
killed in car crash
.
”
The paper was dated
September
7
th
, 198
5
.
As she scanned the article, she read that the
accident had happened
on the
sixth
of
September
.
Oh, my God, that’s the same day my parents
died
, she thought.

She heard a noise, turned around and let out a small scream
.
Father Andrew was standing in the doorway
, gl
owering
at her
.

Chapter 3
7

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”
Father Andrew demanded,
moving
toward her.

“I … I was looking for you,” Ann stammered
.
“I have a message to give you
.”
She reached out and handed the paper to him
.
“It’s urgent,” she added.

As
the priest
read the note, the expression on his face
and in his eyes
changed from
furious
to
concerned, even worried
.
“Thank you, Ann
.
You’re right
.
This is very important
.
I need to get to the hospital right away
.”
He extended his arm and pointed toward the door
.
“
I think w
e’d both better get back to work
.”

As they left the house,
she
noticed that Father Andrew took the time to lock his front door
.
Probably so I won’t go in and snoop around again, she thought
.
She felt embarrassed and uncomfortable as he followed her up the path to the church
.
He didn’t like me going into his private space, she thought
.
But I don’t blame him
.
I wouldn’t want anyone uninvited
going
in
to
my house either.

Time went by slowly for
her
as she finished alphabetizing the letters on her desk and
began filing
them in the cabinets that lined one of the walls in her office
.
As she worked
, she
constantly glanced
down at her wristwatch
but, each time,
she was disappointed to see that
only a couple of minutes had passed.
Will it
ever
be time to go home
?
she wondered.

She shuddered, remembering how ill at ease she’d felt when Father Andrew walked in on her
.
Nevertheless, s
he couldn’t help but be curious about the
girl in the photograph
that she’d seen in his bedroom
.
Who was she?
she
wondered
.
Could she have been his girlfriend all those years ago
?
Maybe she was his one true love and, when she died, he was so distraught that he joined the priesthood, vowing never to love another woman
.
That’s so romantic, she thought, but so tragic
.

But what if she died in the
same
accident as my parents
?
The accident that was my father’s fault
.
Could Father Andrew know that
?
Could he know that
my
father drove the car that killed the girl he loved
?
And, if he does know, does he
somehow
blame me
?
But w
hy would he blame
me
for what my father did?

She remembered the words of the last note she’d received. “And he did that which was evil in the sight of the Lord, …
as his fathers had done
… .”
What evil have I done?
She
shuddered
, remembering
how she’d felt when she looked over and saw
the priest
looming in the doorway
:
uncomfortable, embarrassed and
afraid
.

What if
he’s
seeking revenge
?
What if he does want to punish me for the sins of my father
?
She recalled what Dr. Richard Reneker had said
in his
TV
interview
about a stressor,
a life
-
altering event
that would cause
a person
to start killing. “Something traumatic happened in his life.
It could be anything from a job loss to the death of someone close to him that he either loved very much and/or depended on.”

Like the anniversary
last month
of the death of
someone he obviously loved
so much
?
she wondered.
The
first woman was strangled
in early September.
I’m not sure of the exact date but w
hat if …
?
Could
Father Andrew
be the Westwood Strangler? And, could he be after
me
?
No, that’s ridiculous
.
If he were the strangler, why would he
have
kill
ed
those other women? They had nothing to do with
the car crash
. And, h
e’s a priest
, a man of God
.
Still, the thought sent a chill down her spine.

I wish I’d had time to read that whole article.
If only Father hadn’t come in right then, I could’ve,
she
thought.
I’ve got to find out who
that girl
was
but there’s no way I can ask
him
.
Clearly, he’s someone who values his privacy and I know that it’s none of my business
but
if what I’m thinking is true
… .

She recalled one of her grandmother’s sayings, “Curiosity killed the cat
but
satisfaction brought him back
.”
I’ll bet Louise
could tell me
who th
at
girl
was
;
I’ll bet she
knows the whole story
.
B
ut
,
she thought,
she and I aren’t exactly on speaking terms right now.

She
replayed the horrible episode with her mother-in-law in her mind
.
Why is she so angry with me?
she
wondered
.
She blames me for everything
.
I don’t get it
.
Obviously, she thinks I’m not good enough for David, that he could’ve done much better. But why does she think that?
I know that Louise and I haven’t exactly been the best of friends through the years, but I thought that was normal mother-in-law, daughter-in-law stuff
.
I’ve always treated her with respect because she’s David’s mother but she acts as if I’ve been a terrible wife and mother
.
I haven’t
.
I’ve done the best I could.

She forced herself to concentrate on filing the rest of the letters. When she
finished
all of
the
work that Father Andrew had given her, she sat down at her desk and swiveled around in her chair so that she faced the window
.
Lookin
g out, she was surprised and delighted to see that, w
hile she was busy filing, the weather had changed dramatically.
It had turned into such a pretty day
.
The fog had lifted, the sun was out and the sky, a bright blue, had only a few scattered clouds
.
She hoped that
it would stay nice for the kids tonight
.

Lately, the weather
is
as changeable and unpredictable as
my
life
:
one minute, sunny and beautiful, the next minute, dark and cold
, she thought
.
She always joked that, in Cincinnati, you’d better carry both your umbrella and your sunglasses
.
Particularly at this time of year though, it was difficult to know how to dress
.
She encouraged Danielle and Davey to layer their clothes
.
That way, if it warmed up, they could easily remove a sweater or sweatshirt
.

She
got up and stood at the window
.
About a block d
own the street, she
spotted
a man
dressed all in black, with a black cape fluttering behind him in the wind,
coming
down the sidewalk
toward the church.
He was
carrying
, what appeared to be, a cane or walking stick
.
Fascinated
, she continued to watch him.
When he got closer, she realized that she couldn’t see his face because he was wearing a mask
.
Well, he must be going to a Halloween party, she reasoned
.
He’s dressed like the Grim Reaper
.

The man stopped in front of the church
for a few seconds
facing in her direction
. Then
, abruptly
,
he
turned and
came
right up to her window
.
The only thing separating them was a pane of glass.
He pointed
the cane
directly at her
.
Even through the
window
, she could hear his scream.

She
jumped back
.
She grasped the drapery pull and tugged hard
.
After the drapes were closed, she leaned back against the wall, breathing hard
.
A
quiver
ran through her
body
and her heart
raced
.
Calm down, she silently told herself
.
But why did he do that to me? she wondered
.
Why did he point and scream at
me
?
Why does it feel like everyone’s out to get me lately
?
She remembered the warning that Olivia’s psychic had given her. “There is danger awaiting you, Ann
.
Pay attention
.
Stay alert
.
Don’t trust anyone.”

You’re being paranoid, she told herself
.
Then she remembered
Mel Gibson telling Julia Roberts in the movie,
Conspiracy Theory
,
“
I’m only paranoid because they want me dead
.”
She ran her hand through her hair, pushing it back off
of
her forehead
.