Rosary girls

3 5

Jessica sat in her driveway, exhaustion beginning to take its toll. Rain hammered the roof of the Cherokee. She thought about what Nick had said. It had crossed her mind that she not had gotten The Talk after the task force was formed, the sit-down that would've started: Look, Jessica, this has nothing to do with your abilities as a detective…

That talk never happened.

She turned off the engine.

What had Brian Parkhurst wanted to tell her? He hadn't said that he wanted to tell her what he'd done, but rather that there were things about these girls that she needed to know.

Like what?

And where was he?

If I see anyone else there, I'm leaving.

Had Parkhurst made Nick Palladino and John Shepherd as cops?

Not likely.

Jessica got out, locked the Jeep, and ran to the back door, splashing in puddles along the way. She was soaked. It seemed as if she had been soaked forever. The light over the back porch had burned out a few weeks earlier, and as she fumbled for her house key she chided herself for the hundredth time for not replacing the bulb. Above her, the branches of the dying maple creaked. It really needed to get trimmed before those branches smashed into the house. These things had generally been Vincent's job, but Vincent wasn't around, was he?

Get it together, Jess. You are mom and dad for the time being, as well as cook, repairman, landscaper, chauffeur, and tutor.

She got her house key in hand and was just about to open the back door when she heard a noise above her, the scrape of aluminum twisting, shearing, moaning under an enormous weight. She also heard leather- soled shoes scrape across the floor, saw a hand reach for her.

Draw your weapon Jess-

The Glock was in her purse. Rule number one never keep your weapon in your purse-

The shadow formed a body. A man's body.

A priest.

He closed his hand around her arm.

And pulled her into the darkness.