LITMIR.BIZ

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she’d heard someone answer, “Yes.”

      Then the fight had broken out and she’d heard running footsteps. So while Roman was fighting with someone—the man in the black T-shirt with the gun—whoever was in that small room could have run along the side of the choir loft and exited through the back of the church.

      The siren was close now and when she shifted her gaze to the street, she saw a police car slow as it crossed the intersection near the front of the church, passing a dark van. She was turning, intending to go back down the stairs and back to Roman, when suddenly, she blinked and leaned closer to the window. If she hadn’t been standing right there peering through the glass at that particular minute, she would have missed it.

      Two blocks down, a taxi had stopped at the curb and three people had crowded around its open passenger door.

      One of them was Juliana. Even at this distance, Sadie was sure of it. Her sister’s long, straight, dark hair was unmistakable. A second woman, a petite blonde carrying a dress bag and a tote, climbed into the taxi. A moment later, the taxi pulled away from the curb, leaving Juliana and the man standing on the curb. Sadie got a look at him in profile before he took Juliana’s arm and disappeared around the corner. Paulo Carlucci. She also saw the dark stain on his upper arm. Blood?

      Below her, the church doors opened and she hurried to the loft railing in time to see two policemen kneeling over Roman.

      “The pulse is steady,” one man said. “Blood on the back of his head.”

      “Look’s like he fell,” the other said. “Be careful not to move him until the EMTs get here.”

      Sadie hesitated, torn between her desire to go down the stairs to be with her brother and her fear for her sister’s safety. Roman was in safe hands now, she told herself. It was Juliana who needed her.

      With that one thought in mind, she rushed quietly along the side of the choir loft and hurried down the stairs. The room at the bottom was small. At its center stood a marble fountain in the middle of a shallow rectangular pool where baptisms would be performed. Sadie skirted it and raced for the exit. Once out on the street, she sprinted toward the corner where she’d last seen Juliana.

      An ambulance rushed past, but she paid it no heed. The police on the scene would make sure the medics took care of Roman. She had to get to Juliana, make sure she was safe. She was half a block away from the corner when she saw the dark van pull through the intersection. She might not have paid it any heed if the driver’s window hadn’t been open. But it was—she recognized the driver and the van as the one that had been blocking the parking lot entrance when she’d first arrived.

      Possibilities raced through her mind and she didn’t like any of them. She thought of the man Roman had chased into the choir loft, the one who’d left through the front door with blood running down his arm. Had the man in the van been waiting for him? Were they, too, looking for Juliana?

      Heart pounding, she put all her energy into reaching the corner. But when she turned it, there was no sign of Juliana or Paulo.

      And no sign of the dark van.

      3

      BY THE TIME SADIE MADE it back to St. Peter’s Church, there were four squad cars blocking off both Skylar Avenue and Bellevue. She’d run a few blocks trying to catch sight of Paulo and Juliana, but she hadn’t even glimpsed them and she hadn’t seen the van again, either. A glance at her watch told her that it was 7:30, roughly fifteen minutes since she’d heard those first shots and seen Roman fall over that railing.

      A shudder moved through her as the image filled her mind. She couldn’t let herself dwell on it. She had to hold it together. Roman was depending on her.

      Two ambulances were now parked in front of the church, and uniformed policemen were stationed at intervals by the tape that had been strung along the sidewalks to keep the curious at a distance. She would have to get past them to get back into the vestibule and check on Roman.

      As she made her way through the small crowd that had gathered on the sidewalk across from the church, someone tugged on her arm. Turning, she glanced down to find a tiny woman with bright blue eyes and a mass of curly white hair smiling excitedly up at her. The thought that popped into her mind was that this was what little orphan Annie might look like at seventy.

      “Did you hear the shots, dear?”

      “No, I didn’t,” Sadie lied, looking for an opening in the police barricade.

      “I heard the shots. I live in the house right next to the rectory. At first I wasn’t sure. I thought it might be a car backfiring. But altogether I counted six of them. Way too many for a car. Figured they had to be gunshots.”

      Six, Sadie thought. That roughly tallied with the number she’d heard. Two when she’d first come in, three from inside the church, then one overhead. “Did you see anything?”

      The woman shook her head. “Not while the shooting was going on. I’d looked through the window earlier and I knew that a wedding was happening the minute that catering truck pulled into the rectory parking lot. Father Mike is hitching up a lot of couples lately. He has a way with young people and St. Peter’s is turning out to be the in place for weddings. He’s brought new life to the neighborhood.”

      There was pride in her voice.

      “But there was something odd about this one,” the woman continued.

      “What?” Sadie asked.

      “Very few guests. Usually, the cars fill that little parking lot behind the church, guests hang out on the front steps before the ceremony and they cover the front steps with a long white cloth—to protect the bride’s dress, I guess—and the bride arrives in one of those big stretch limousines. But not tonight. I saw her come in a taxi with a little blond woman and I think the wedding dress was in the bag the blond was carrying.”

      Juliana had arrived in a taxi with a blond woman. The woman she’d seen get into the taxi had been carrying a dress bag. Sadie felt a little stab of guilt. She had no idea who the woman was, no idea who any of her sister’s friends were.

      “A young man had arrived a bit before that with a big bruiser of a fellow. Figured one of them had to be the groom until the other man arrived. Handsome as sin, that one. I was thinking the bride was one lucky gal if she was tying the knot with him. He looked a bit familiar, too, but I couldn’t place him. I will, though. It will come to me when I’m not expecting it. After the handsome one went inside, I went downstairs to catch Wheel of Fortune.”

      As “Annie” continued to talk, Sadie glanced at the front of the church. Nothing was happening. She started forward again.

      “Figured it must be one of those hush-hush affairs,” Annie was saying. “Maybe a pair of celebrities or something like that. Whatever it was, someone got wind of it and put a stop to it. I just hope that it wasn’t Father Mike who got killed. Of course, I wouldn’t want it to be the bride or the groom, either.”

      Sadie turned back to the tiny woman. “Someone got killed?”

      “I heard the cops talking a few minutes ago. I’ve got pretty good ears.” She leaned close to Sadie and spoke in a tone only she could hear. “They said one dead and two injured. Someone in there definitely bought it.”

      Not Roman. Sadie glanced back at the church doors. Please, not Roman. “I have to get in there.” She lifted the tape.

      Annie laid a hand on her arm. “They won’t let you past this point.”

      “But I have to—” She broke off when a young uniformed officer blocked her path.

      “Miss, I have to ask you to lower the tape and step back from it,” the officer said.

      “You don’t understand. I was here earlier,” she said. “I need to talk to someone who’s in charge.”

      An older man in his late forties moved toward them. “Problem, Jerry?”

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