Part 14 (1/2)
”I told the sheriff that Mr. Cooper and I were not on very good terms, Mr. Zaccardi.”
”Why is that?”
”He's a difficult man.”
”He can be.” Rafe was stubborn-sometimes to a fault-but he was intensely loyal.
”The tabernacle isn't missing,” Bishop Carlin said. ”I gave the mission a replacement.”
Anthony couldn't keep the surprise off his face. ”You have the original tabernacle? Why?”
”It's very old, as I'm sure you know. Several of the stones had fallen off and needed to be replaced. Father Hatch brought it to me nearly two weeks ago.”
”Father Hatch?” Anthony didn't know him.
”He arrived at the mission a year ago. He's one of the few who leave the property. I'm sure you know that the mission had, frankly, become an asylum of sorts. The men are mentally ill.”
Anthony's jaw clenched. ”They witnessed evil, Bishop.”
”We've all witnessed evil.”
”Have we?” Anthony countered.
”Look around you, young man.”
”I have faced demons. I have freed souls.”
”You are not a priest.”
”I am not.”
”I know exactly who you are, Mr. Zaccardi. And you are given a lot of lat.i.tude because of your friends in the Vatican.”
”I am given lat.i.tude because I can see demons. Where is the tabernacle now?”
”In storage awaiting s.h.i.+pment to Rome. Perhaps you'd like to take it back with you?”
Anthony bit back his first, angry remark.
”Perhaps I would,” he said.
”I will ready it for you immediately.”
The demon looked at his minions through his new human eyes, relis.h.i.+ng with hubris the wors.h.i.+p in their expressions. He craved adoration.
”Is it done?” he asked.
”Yes. We have the records.”
”Have? Why didn't you destroy them?”
”We thought the information would be valuable,” the older woman said. ”The doctor was very detailed in his comments. There are prayers and protections that may help us grow stronger.”
She was right. He'd been in a destructive mood ever since the journal disintegrated and Zaccardi saved Skye McPherson. That soul should have been his!
”You-” He pointed to the older woman. ”Drive.” He stared at the younger woman. ”You, in back with me.”
”I-”
His eyes glowed. ”I have l.u.s.ted for nine hundred years since I last possessed a human body. You will serve me.”
She nodded, fear and excitement in her eyes, unable and unwilling to deny his l.u.s.t.
He roared his satisfaction and ripped off her clothes.
Anthony sat in the Santa Louisa Public Library, his knees. .h.i.tting the low table, hunched over a computer. He typed into the Google search engine: ”Jeremiah Hatch”
He'd already woken Father Philip in Italy who was covertly looking into the mission records. The mentally disturbed priests were given necessary compa.s.sion by the church and cared for, but no one wanted to admit to the public that the presence of evil could break the strongest of the faithful. What hope could there be for regular people if devout priests crumbled within Satan's grasp?
There were far too many hits on the name, so Anthony narrowed the search to ”Jeremiah Hatch + priest.”
Fewer than a hundred sites came up and Anthony began clicking through.
He found an article published four years ago in a national newspaper about a group of missionaries, led by Monsignor Jeremiah Hatch, gone missing in Guatemala. When representatives from the Teach the Poor project had visited the site, they found it completely empty. Six missionaries gone, as if vanis.h.i.+ng into thin air. The local villagers refused to talk, but by all accounts they knew what had happened. They'd been scared silent.
There was a bio on each missionary, including Hatch.
Monsignor Jeremiah Hatch, 43, was born in Denver, Colorado. Orphaned at the age of twelve, he was taken in by the Sisters of Mercy. A graduate of Notre Dame University, he entered St. John's Seminary in California at the age of twenty-seven. Ordained three years later, he served as a priest in the Los Angeles Diocese, the Portland Diocese, and most recently in the Was.h.i.+ngton, DC Diocese. He'd been an advisor to Teach the Poor for the past ten years.
Anthony wondered what Hatch had done between the time he graduated college and joined the seminary. Was it just a coincidence that he'd attended the same seminary where Rafe was studying?
Another article published just a year ago mentioned Hatch again.
Three years after he went missing and was presumed dead while a missionary in Guatemala, Monsignor Jeremiah Hatch walked into a hospital in Belize. Though physically healthy, he had no recollection of the last three years.
Representatives from the United States Bishops came to bring Msgr. Hatch back to the States, but one unidentified nurse said, ”He kept repeating, 'They're dead. They're all dead.'”
That would explain why he was sent to the Santa Louisa Mission, Anthony surmised.
Curious about Hatch's childhood, Anthony tried other search terms, focusing on Denver.