Leaving Epitaph: The Sons of Daniel Shaye

72

Once they had their horses placed in a stable and had registered at a hotel near the church, Thomas and Matthew set off on foot. When they came within sight of the church, they stopped and discussed the best way to proceed.

“We can wait out here and see if we spot him going in or coming out,” Thomas said, “but I’m sure there are other ways in and out.”

“And we still don’t know for sure that it’s him,” Matthew pointed out. “If we followed the wrong man, he has no reason to come here.”

“That’s right,” Thomas said. “Matthew, we’ve got to find out if Ethan is in there, or we’re wasting our time. If we both go in there, Father Vincent might warn Ethan—if Ethan’s inside.”

“Then how do we find out?”

“We’ll ask around. Maybe somebody saw something.”

“That could take forever.”

“Then we better get started.”

They started to walk away, but Thomas abruptly put his hand on his brother’s chest to stop him.

“What’s wrong?”

“If we both leave and he’s in there, we might miss him,” Thomas said. “One of us has to stay here.”

“Which one?” Matthew asked.

“You,” Thomas said. “I’ll go and check the area.”

“Okay,” Matthew said.

“Pick a doorway and stay hidden,” Thomas said. “You’re so big, you’ll be noticed, but you’d be noticed going from stable to stable too.”

“Okay, I’ll stay,” Matthew said, “but tell me one thing.”

“What?”

“How do I recognize him? None of us has ever seen him, except for Pa.”

That stopped Thomas cold. He’d forgotten that he and Matthew had never even seen Ethan Langer.

“Okay,” he said, “we have his description from Pa, and we’ve seen the priest, his brother. He must look somethin’ like him.”

“Have you taken a good look at you, me, and James lately? Do we look like brothers?”

“Well, James and I do bear a certain resemblance—but that’s not important. Just keep an eye on the church. It’s pretty big, but so far we haven’t seen a lot of people around it. Maybe they only come on Sunday. Just keep an eye for anybody goin’ in and out and I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Matthew said, “but hurry.”

Thomas started away, then stopped.

“Matthew, if you think you see him, don’t approach him. Understand? Wait for me.”

“I understand.”

Thomas put his hand on his brother’s arm. “Don’t go near him without me.”

“I understand, Thomas.”

“All right.” Thomas took his hand back. “I’ll be right back.”

“Just find that horse so we know we’re in the right place.”

“If it’s here,” Thomas said, “I’ll find it.”

Inside the church, Ethan had left the back room and walked into the church with his brother.

“Nobody’s ever here,” Ethan said, looking around the cavernous interior of the church.

“This is a very large church,” Father Vincent said, “and a very poor parish.”

“Must not pay you very much.”

“I am not paid anything at all.”

Ethan turned and looked at his brother. “Did you see my saddlebags?”

“I told you they were in the bottom drawer.”

“I know that,” Ethan said. “Did you see what’s inside?”

“No.”

“You didn’t even take a peek?”

“Not even a peek.”

“There’s cash in there, Vincent,” Ethan said, “a lot of cash.”

“Stolen money.”

“Of course, but at least I have money. What do you have?”

“I have my faith,” Vincent said, “and I live in the service of God.”

“And you don’t need money?”

“I do not need money,” Vincent said, “but the church does.”

“Well, don’t expect to get any from me.”

“I don’t.”

“That’s good, because I don’t believe in charity.”

“Charity begins at home.”

“Well, you finally said something I agree with.”

Vincent fell silent for a moment, then said, “I have some things to do, Ethan.”

“Like what?”

“I have some visits to make with the sick,” the priest said. “I will be back later today.”

“What about me?” Ethan asked. “What about my—my problem?”

“We will take care of it when I return,” Vincent said.

Ethan grabbed Vincent’s arm and held it tightly. He was surprised at how hard it was.

“Promise?”

“I promise, Ethan.”

Vincent stared at his brother until Ethan removed his hand, and then the priest left the church.

Ethan sat down in the front pew and bowed his head. He wasn’t praying, he was just tired.