Page 63 of Wild Frost

She laughed. "Oh, I’ve got plenty of surprises, believe me.”

We hopped into the Porsche, and I called Isabella. If anybody could suss out information on Father Callahan, it would be her.

With a few taps of the keys, she had quite a few interesting things to share.

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"Father Callahan quietly got moved from another parish due to allegations of an improper relationship with an underage girl," Isabella said.

My jaw tightened.

"I looked at phone records. There are numerous calls and texts between him and Ivy. Their phones appear at the same location on numerous occasions. And not just at the church.”

Isabella also confirmed Father Callahan's outreach with gang members. It painted a damning picture.

My blood boiled, but I tried to rein in my temper. I thanked Isabella for the information, then we set out to find the cretin.

We drove over to Holy Cross and found a place to park. JD and I approached the grand stone structure and stepped inside the parish. The sky was still gray and angry, and the air grew cooler. Ambient light filtered through the stained glass. The church was empty.

We walked down the main aisle, then around the sanctuary and out a side door. I figured we might find Callahan in the rectory. As soon as we stepped outside, the smell of freshly lit tobacco filled my nostrils.

Father Callahan leaned against the side of the building, smoking a cigarette, looking like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He forced a smile. "I guess you caught me." He brandished the cigarette. "My only vice."

It most certainly wasn’t his only vice.

"Terrible habit, I know,” he said. “I'm sure my secret is safe with you."

I displayed my badge.

"Uh, oh. I'm not under arrest, am I?" he joked. "I know it doesn't make me the best role model.”

"We're investigating the choir group murders," I said.

A sympathetic frown tugged his face, and he shook his head. "Such a tragic and senseless loss. Do you have any leads?"

"A few interesting ones."

With intrigued eyes, he said, "I'd love to hear. If you can share."

"Tell me about Ivy.”

His eyes narrowed. "She was a talented young girl. Great singer. A valued member of the community." After a brief pause, he said, "Do you think she was the target?"

“How would you characterize your relationship?”

His face tightened a little. "I tried to be a positive influence in her life. I know her father passed tragically, and I think she needed a strong male presence in her life."

"There's no doubt she needed a positive male role model. I'm just not sure you were it," I said, the muscles in my jaw flexing as I stared him down.

His brow wrinkled. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"You two spent a lot of time together. There were a lot of phone calls and text messages between you at odd hours."

His confused look persisted. "What are you talking about?”

"Did you know that Ivy was pregnant?”

That hung there for a moment.