LITMIR.BIZ

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her, settling himself down at her feet.

      Mrs. Riley stood behind her, as if unsure of her role in this matter.

      “Do you want me to leave you alone with her?” she asked.

      “No, you can stay if you want,” Butts said, taking out his little notebook. Lee noticed that he rarely wrote in it, but he seemed to like holding it.

      Mrs. Riley perched on the arm of her daughter’s chair and put a hand on her shoulder, in a gesture of maternal protectiveness.

      “So,” Butts said to the girl, “I’m Detective Butts, and this is Lee Campbell.”

      “Is he a detective too?”

      “No, but we’re both cops,” Butts replied with a little cough. “He’s a criminal profiler.”

      Her eyes widened, and Lee could see the pale blue irises.

      “Like on TV?”

      “Yeah, like on TV,” Butts sighed before Lee could say anything. “Just like on TV,” he repeated, his jaw tight. He leaned back against the plastic couch cover, which made a little sucking sound. Fritzy looked up, cocked his head, and licked his lips.

      “So you were Marie’s roommate?” Butts asked Christine.

      “Yeah,” she replied. “We lived in Wykopf East. It’s an all-girls dorm,” she added, with a glance at her mother.

      “Okay,” Butts answered. “Were there any weird guys hanging around, anyone who caught your attention?”

      Christine frowned. Her strong-looking hands played with a strand of her lank blond hair, twisting and curling it around her fingers. “Uh, not really. I can’t think of anyone. I mean, her boyfriend is a little weird, but he’s a sweetheart. You don’t think he would—” She broke off and looked up at her mother.

      “Mr. Winters is not a suspect at this time,” Butts replied.

      “Oh, good. Because if you thought he—I mean, that would just really be awful. Not that it isn’t awful already,” she added.

      “Like I said,” Butts repeated, “he isn’t a suspect at this time.”

      “Is there anything you can think of, anything out of the ordinary, that you think might help us with our investigation?” Lee asked. “Anything that struck you as odd or unusual?”

      Christine frowned and looked at her hands. “I wish I could be more helpful, but I can’t think of anything.”

      “It’s okay,” Lee said gently. “If you think of anything, you can always call us.”

      “How would you describe Marie Kelleher?” Butts asked.

      “Oh, she was really sweet—quiet, studied hard, just a real good girl…” Her voice trailed off.

      “A good Catholic girl,” her mother interjected.

      “I see you’re Catholic too, Mrs. Riley,” Butts said.

      “The one true religion,” she replied sharply.

      “Is that why your daughter and Ms. Kelleher were roommates? They shared the same religious beliefs?”

      Mrs. Riley picked at an invisible piece of lint on her immaculate carpet. “That’s one of the reasons. They had other common interests.”

      “She was the kind of girl who would talk to anyone, you know?” Christine said. “She wasn’t snobby or anything. She was…well, she was very kind, okay? She’d help anyone in need. Why does it always seem like those people are the ones who die young, who are killed by crazy people? Why is that?”

      “Maybe it’s because those deaths strike us harder, as more cruel or unjust somehow,” Lee answered.

      Fritzy wagged his tail and licked Christine’s exposed ankle.

      “Oh, Fritzy,” she said, bursting into tears. “You always seem to know what I’m feeling.” She picked up the dog, pressed him to her chest, and sobbed into his fur. Butts looked at Mrs. Riley and cleared his throat.

      “That’s—uh, that’s enough for today. Thanks for your time.”

      He struggled up from the sofa, fumbling with his notebook. “We’ll be in touch if there’s anything further we need. Don’t hesitate to call if you think of something,” he said, handing her his card.

      “I’m sorry, Detective,” Mrs. Riley said as she walked them to the door. “It’s been a really hard time for us.”

      “No need to apologize,” Butts assured her. “I’m sorry if we caused your daughter any more distress.”

      “You were just doing your job.”

      Butts coughed and looked down at his feet. “Yeah, well, not everyone understands that. I wish everyone was more like you—sure would make my job a lot easier.”

      “Forgive me,” Lee said, “but is there a Mr. Riley?”

      Mrs. Riley’s mouth tightened. “There was. Not anymore.”

      She didn’t offer any further explanation, so they thanked her and left the house, heading back toward the subway. When they were some distance from the building, they heard footsteps and turned to see Christine running after them. She wasn’t wearing a coat, and her cheeks were flushed from cold and exertion.

      “Please,” she said, catching up with them. “Please—I just can’t go any longer without telling someone!”

      “What?” Lee said. “What is it you need to tell?”

      “They don’t want me to tell, but I have to—I just can’t keep quiet anymore!”

      “Who doesn’t want you to tell?”

      “My mom—and Marie’s parents. They know about it—or at least I think they do.”

      “What is it they know?” said Butts.

      “It’s—it’s Father Michael.”

      “What about him?”

      “He…he was having an affair with Marie.”

      “How do you know that?”

      “Because he was having sex with me too.”

      And with that, she burst into tears.

      Chapter Eleven

      “So you just didn’t bother to mention that one little detail, huh?” Detective Butts said, putting his face close to the priest’s. “That you were having sex with a girl who just happens to end up dead in your church?”

      Father Michael Flaherty sat, hands folded on his lap, staring at the floor. Butts paced around him, his stocky body vibrating with rage.

      It was less than two hours since Christine’s revelation about the priest’s sexual involvement with her and Marie. Lee and Butts were in an interrogation room in the Bronx Major Case precinct house while Chuck Morton watched through the one-way mirror from the hallway outside.

      “How many others were there?” Butts continued. “Huh? Pretty good pickings, undergraduate coeds, I guess. You must have had a field day with all those nice Catholic girls. Is it true what the song says, Father? Are Catholic girls more fun?”

      The priest stared at his hands. “I’d like a lawyer, please,” he said.

      “Oh, don’t worry—there’s one on the way,” Butts said with disgust, and plopped down in the chair next to Lee.

      Chuck opened the door and motioned to both of them to come outside.

      “Okay, that’s it—no more questions until he’s lawyered up,” he said once they were out in the hall. “I don’t want to risk losing him, so we go by the book.

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