He grinned. “You’ve found him.”
“Also Father Barnabas?”
He nodded. “One name I was given, the other I took. These days, sometimes it’s hard to remember that other life.”
“Well, your cousin, James O’Leary, remembers you very well.” She paused. “But he didn’t know you had become a priest.”
“He wouldn’t have understood. He didn’t accept my advice as a psychiatrist, he certainly wouldn’t have let me help him as a priest.” He shrugged. “I know a few people in the city, and they keep an eye on him for me. When he reaches the point of no return, I’ll be there for him.”
“‘Point of no return,’” she repeated. “And what is that?”
“Everyone comes to a meeting in the road with God when they’ve reached the final pit. They either follow Him away from it or leap into the abyss.” He took out his handkerchief and wiped his brow. “But sometimes if there’s someone there to explain the rules, it can make a difference.”
“Yes, it can.”
“Why did you phone my cousin James?”
“It was the only lead I had. The people you worked with at the VA hospital are very close-mouthed about you. Why is that?”
“Because they’re good friends, and they knew I wanted to make a final break with my patients there. I set them up with fine, competent doctors who could help them, but many patients develop a dependence on their psychiatrists that’s difficult to break if they find they can maintain contact. The best way is to make a clean break. When I started at the seminary, I made it impossible for me to be found.” He tilted his head. “Yet you found me. I’m very curious why you bothered.” He stiffened. “Unless you’re a relation to one of my ex-patients?”
“Not a relation. Definitely connected.” She paused. “Ted Danner. I need to know everything you know about Ted Danner.”
His wariness became even more obvious. “Indeed?” He murmured, his gaze searching her face. “And why is that?”
She was silent. How much to tell him? She was suddenly aware that this man exuded a power that was very formidable. All of that casual, almost boyish charisma had vanished. “He recently murdered a man. He may murder others. Who should know better than you that he’s unbalanced? You treated him for a number of years, didn’t you?”
“Murder.” His lips tightened. “You’re sure? Not self-defense, not an accident?”
“A dagger in the chest isn’t usually an accident.”
His eyes closed for a moment. “Dear God in Heaven. Lost. Truly lost.” His eyes were glittering with moisture when he opened them. “And mad…”
“You’re surprised? Yet you must have known that was a possibility. You were his psychiatrist. Didn’t he ever give you a glimmer that he was capable of killing someone?”
“Of course he did. He was a Ranger. He was trained to kill.” His lips twisted. “He was praised when he did it right. The Army made him what he was, then threw him to us to heal when he became … unstable.”
“You’re blaming the military?”
He wearily shook his head. “I blame no one but the world we live in and what it does to us.” He added bitterly, “And the demons it causes to rise within our souls. Ted Danner knows all about those demons. He’s obsessed with them. He probably thought he was killing one when he stabbed that man.”
She stiffened. “You say that with some authority. You know Danner very well?”
“As you said, I treated him for years.”
“But you cut your ties to him as you did your other patients?”
He was silent. “I cut all ties.”
She had seen something in his expression. “But did he accept it? Danner was a Ranger, he was smart. He would know how to track you down. Did he have some kind of paternal fixation on you? Have you seen him since you left the hospital?”
He didn’t answer the question. “Who are you? And what are you to Ted Danner? You said you weren’t a relation. Are you with the police?”
“No, my name is Eve Duncan.”
He slowly nodded. “I thought I recognized you. You’re the forensic sculptor. I’ve seen your photo in the newspaper. What do you have to do with Ted Danner?”
“You tell me.” She took step closer to him. “What did he say to you?” she asked fiercely. “No one was closer to him. First, as his psychiatrist, then his priest. He did search you out, didn’t he? Did he mention my daughter?”
“Your daughter?” He shook his head. “Why would he—” He stopped, as the realization hit him. “You daughter was killed years ago. You believe Danner did it?”
“I don’t know. She was taken about the time you left the hospital and stopped treating Danner. Did he ever talk about her?”
He shook his head in bewilderment. “Why would he?”
He was telling the truth. “She was also the daughter of John Gallo. You must know about John.”
“Ted Danner’s nephew.” The priest nodded. “He loves him very much. He probably doesn’t love anyone else on this Earth.”
“You know that, and you didn’t know about Gallo’s daughter?”
“Perhaps Danner didn’t know.” Then he muttered, “Or perhaps he did. It would explain so much. The little girl…”
“He knew,” she said jerkily. “He knew about my Bonnie. And what would it explain?”
He didn’t answer directly, “And you think he killed her?”
“It’s possible. I’m going to find out. I’m going to find him. You have to help me.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t tell me no,” she said fiercely. “You’re a priest, a man of God. I’ve told you that Danner has already killed and might kill again. You can’t let him go free. You know where he is, don’t you?”
“No.”
“But you’ve been in recent contact with him. You could find him. He must have told you something. You’ve got to help me.”
“God will help you.”
“It’s your duty, dammit.”
“My duty is to God and my vows.”
“So pure. But how pure are you, Father? You appear to have gotten off scot-free on that charge that was leveled at you several years ago. But it just occurred to me that if you were afraid that Danner might bring new evidence and testify against you, it might ruin your bright new life. You might not want him to be found. Were you experimenting on Ted Danner, too?”
His gaze was narrowed on her face. “You’ve done some in-depth research, haven’t you?”
“Answer me.”
“But I don’t have to answer you. You obviously wouldn’t believe me if I did.”
“Does Danner come to you in the confessional?”
“Yes. But very infrequently.”
“Then you must know—you have to know something.”
“And you know I can’t violate the confessional.”
She didn’t know anything but that she didn’t trust anything that he was telling her. “Not even to catch a murderer, to prevent another murder?”
He was silent. “I couldn’t violate my vow. I’d have to do it in another way. I can only try to find Danner myself and prevent him from striking at another of his demons.”
“Demons? You mentioned that before. What are you talking about?” She added bitterly, “Or is that something else that you have to keep confidential?” She took a step closer to him. “You listen to me, Father Barnabas. My daughter is dead and may have been killed by Ted Danner. I have to find him. I have to know everything about him. I won’t stop until I do. I’ll follow you everywhere you go.” She paused. “And I don’t care about your vows. You have to tell me what he told you.”
“I can’t do that,” he said quietly. “You must see that I can’t betray a trust. As a psychiatrist, I was bound by one oath, and when I became a priest, I became bound by an even stronger one. Either way, I mustn’t break my vows.”
“Or you could be protecting yourself and using your vows to keep me from finding Danner.” She added deliberately. “Implanted false memories, Father Barnabas? What a horrible crime.”
He looked her straight in the eye. “Yes, it is.”
“Did you do it? What was the verdict of that court?”
He smiled faintly. “Another vow that I can’t break. I agreed to a sealed testimony. You wouldn’t want me to get in trouble with the law.”
He wasn’t going to help her, she realized in frustration. The priest was staring at her with an expression that was firmly determined. “Danner is a criminal. The authorities are looking for him. They won’t understand about your vows, Father Barnabas.”