Was she possessed? He wanted to turn and look at her, but he was afraid the slightest move and she might use it as an excuse to pull the trigger. His stomach ached. His face throbbed and he tried to keep from sobbing or the blood running down his throat would choke him.
Someone banged on the door and his heart skipped a beat. O'Dell, however, didn't seem to flinch. Her hold remained steady.
"Police " someone called from the other side of the door. "Open up."
Keller held his breath. O'Dell didn't move. Not an inch. It felt like the muzzle was making a hole in the side of his head.
"O'Dell?" the voice called. "It's Pakula. Are you okay?"
Silence except for her heavy breathing and an annoying whining sound. Oh God, the whine was coming from deep inside his throat.
"O'Dell? Are you in there? Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," she finally said and adjusted her hold on his arm.
"I'm coming in."
There was a pause and then Keller saw the door begin opening slowly. He lifted his face away from the wall only to have it shoved back, this time knocking the side of his head. But he could see Detective Pakula's alarm before the detective was able to disguise it.
"Whadya doing, O'Dell?"
"What I should have done four years ago."
"Come on, O'Dell." He saw Pakula look around them. "It looks like the kid is okay."
"But he wouldn't have been if I hadn't gotten here."
"You okay, son?" Pakula called out to Timmy.
"Yeah." But Keller noticed the boy's voice wasn't very convincing, weak and small.
"I didn't do anything to him. We just talked." Keller tried to defend himself.
"If he's done something, we'll take care of him," Detective Pakula told her, but she still didn't ease up. "Come on, O'Dell."
Keller could see that the detective was close enough to reach out and touch her, take the gun away. Why didn't he? He could stop her. He needed to stop her.
'Timmy," she said without flinching. "Go with Detective Pakula."
Keller didn't hear the boy move.
This time she yelled, "Now!" And he heard Timmy rush out, squeezing past them.
"I didn't hurt him," Keller pleaded. He knew exactly why she was making the boy leave. She didn't want him to see what she was going to do. She didn't want him to have nightmares.
"O'Dell," Detective Pakula said, checking to make sure the boy was safe in the hallway. Keller could see the detective was becoming anxious. "Come on. You don't want to do this."
Keller started whining again, sobs with chokes. Then all of a sudden he was free.
O'Dell pulled the gun away. She dropped his arm. He stayed pressed against the wall, not trusting her. He didn't move until she pushed past Detective Pakula. And even then he shut his eyes and concentrated on breathing. He thought he heard the door close. And when he opened his eyes again, he was alone.
Keller locked the door's dead bolt and made his way to the bathroom. He was shocked by the bloody, sweaty face that looked back at him. His nose wasn't broken, despite all the blood. He pulled off his sweat-drenched clothes and washed himself, rinsing his mouth and then standing under the showerhead, letting the warm water run over his pain. By the time he slid into a fresh pair of boxers he was feeling better. He had already begun to wipe the episode from his mind.
He wandered back to the bed where his suitcase lay, where he had left it earlier, ready for his evening before his unexpected visitor. He opened the suitcase and found his wooden box on top. He lifted the lid off the box and pushed aside the newspaper articles, the small tin of oil and the vial of ether. He ran his fingers over Arturo's small underpants and then lifted several more pairs until he saw the fillet knife safely tucked underneath. With a heavy sigh he covered it again and closed the lid of the wooden box.
CHAPTER 89
The Embassy Suites
Omaha, Nebraska
Maggie stared at the glow-in-the-dark alarm clock _ three o'clock in the morning. She pulled the covers up and turned onto her other side. She should give up. She should have known she would never be able to sleep. She was too keyed up despite the anticlimactic end to the evening. She flopped onto her back and stared at the ceiling. Timmy was safe. Nick was happy and grateful. Christine had a Pulitzer Prize-winning story. And Father Michael Keller was free.
She had hoped that Timmy's adding Keller's name to the list meant the boy had remembered something new, anything that would connect Keller to his kidnapping four years ago. But what Timmy remembered were only small details. They were enough to solidify her and Christine's belief that Keller was, indeed, Timmy's kidnapper four years ago, but not enough to arrest Keller as a suspect then or now. And tonight even Timmy said that he may have misunderstood Keller when he told him he was working with the Omaha Police Department. Although the boy insisted Keller had shown him a police badge, it wasn't enough for Pakula to rally for a search warrant.
So in a couple of days she would have no choice but to live up to her end of the bargain and allow Keller to leave, allow him to crawl back into the rain forest somewhere in South America. The problem was she remained convinced, now more than ever, that he was still killing little boys, and no matter what Detective Pakula said, she knew he would have killed Timmy had she not intervened.
Only now did Maggie realize how grateful she should be to Pakula, not for talking her down from blowing away Keller __ she still almost wished he hadn't intervened __ but later for handling it like it wasn't worth discussing. After they had left Timmy with Christine, Nick and Gibson, Pakula walked her back to her suite. She had expected a lecture or at least a scolding. Instead, he told her that if he believed as strongly as she did that Keller was still killing little boys, someone may have had to pull him off the bastard, too. Then he reminded her that they still didn't have anything to go on. That even Timmy's description about the night's events didn't indicate that Keller had committed any crimes. Timmy had gone with him willingly and despite whatever story Keller may have made up, he hadn't harmed the boy.
Pakula seemed more interested in Brother Sebastian's threats and his possible role __ if any __ in the computer game the boys had been playing. Maggie could understand if Pakula was thinking Brother Sebastian might be The Sin Eater. Although according to Timmy and Gibson, the master of their game __ The Sin Eater __ had been trying to protect them, not hurt them. Even their invitations to play the game had come after they had been surfing the Net, checking out Web sites and chatrooms that might help them if they were being abused by a priest. The invitation promised help. All they had to do was submit the name of their abuser. They believed the name was submitted to become a character in the game, a character that they could pretend to execute. They never ever dreamed that someone would actually execute the real priests.
Maggie had left several messages for Racine and Gwen. She was anxious to test out her theory and needed to know if Gwen's patient could possibly be playing the game, too. It seemed a bit far-fetched, but Father Paul Conley's death didn't fit The Sin Eater's M.O. Maggie wondered if the D.C. killer could have taken the game into his own hands. It was possible that if he was playing the game and had read about or heard about the other priests being killed, he may have decided to execute his own submitted priest. Whatever the connection, there was definitely one. Maggie didn't believe in coincidences.
She rolled over onto her stomach, burying her face in the pillow with an irritated sigh. And there was Nick Morrelli. He had hugged her when she brought back Timmy. She didn't want to remember how good his arms felt around her. Besides, he was getting married in a month.
Her cell phone startled her, and she practically jumped out of bed. She stumbled trying to find her way in the dim light from the bathroom. When she stayed in hotels she always kept the bathroom light on and the door half closed to provide a night-light. Finally she found the phone where she had left it in her jacket pocket.