Page 46 of Priestly Sins

“Really?”

“Of course. But sometimes you do it because it’s the best choice.”

“That’s my girl. Lock up behind me.”

Hand on my knife, I make my way to my car, slide in, and pull out. Headlights follow me. That’s not good, but it’s better than the alternative. I have brights in my rearview all the way to the rectory. They stay longer than necessary after I park but eventually slowly pull away.

Once inside my house, I shoot Sirona a text.

Me:I was followed. Let me know if anything sets off your radar tonight.

Sirona:Nervous as hell. Antsy and can’t sleep. Will call or text. Promise.

Me:See you in a couple.

* * *

I don’t rest soundly.I sit in my red chair, doubloon in hand, spinning and twisting it over my knuckles. I sip Kilbeggan, but only two fingers. I need the flavor but not the buzz.

At four o’clock, I shower and put on my blacks. I pocket the doubloon and the knife. I put together the necessities I have and throw a suitcase in the trunk of my car. I remove the tracker for the last time and set it under my tire, ready to obliterate yet another reminder of him.

Then, I put the updated documentation in the glove box and sit in its supple leather breathing deeply to calm myself.

Today. Finally today!

Twenty-Four

Iknock on Sirona’s door at half past four and she pulls it open almost shyly.

I raise my eyebrows and lift my chin in question. She nods and pulls the door wide enough for me to enter. She tilts her head to the suitcases in the living room. Two large, two medium. Her whole life in four bags. I nod and grab them, and her outstretched keys, and roll down to where our cars are parked side by side. I slide the four suitcases into my trunk and pray

I keep my head on a swivel. Nothing out of place. No threats.

I head back upstairs and hand her two boarding passes. She sucks in a huge breath. As if it is just now dawning on her what this means.

“Where is Clara’s bag?”

She tips her head to indicate the backpack on the kitchen table. The seriousness of this has rendered her mute.

I grab it and stand there.

“It’s time. Grab Clara and let’s go.”

She agrees and heads to Clara’s bedroom and carries her limply to the kitchen.

“What else do you need?”

She turns her face into Clara’s head, kissing her hair reverently, and whispers, “Nothing.”

I take her keys and lock up her apartment. We walk out and I help her load Clara into her car seat.

“Follow me. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her resolve is back.

She gets into the driver’s seat while I walk to my car and do the same.

Once we’re on the road, I see the unwelcome, but expected, additional set of headlights. We drive and follow the New Orleans roads. We follow a trolley down St. Charles.