"I sent for him, but the reason had nothing to do with my health." He rushed on before she could interrupt him. "Come on, Laurant. It’s about time you met him."
With a smile she said, "The infamous Nick Buchanan. You didn’t tell me he was so…" She stopped herself in time. She had always felt she could tell her brother just about anything, but it didn’t seem appropriate now for her to admit that she thought his best friend was incredibly sexy. It was double jeopardy, she supposed, having an older brother who also happened to be a priest. There was no way he would understand or appreciate his sister having such ideas.
Nick and Tommy were more like brothers than friends. They met during a fistfight on the playground of St. Matthew’s Elementary School when they were in second grade. They bloodied each other’s noses and from that day on became each other’s shadow. By an odd set of circumstances, Tommy ended up living with the Buchanan family of eight children most of his grade school and high school years, and then he and Nick went to Penn State University together.
"He’s so what?" Tommy asked as he pulled her along.
"I’m sorry?"
"Nick’s so what?"
"Tall," she said, finally remembering what they were talking about.
"I never sent you any photos?"
"No, you didn’t," she said, casting her brother a frown for the oversight. Suddenly nervous, she took a deep breath, smoothed her skirt, and went up the stairs to meet him.
Lordy, lordy, he had blue eyes. Brilliant blue eyes that didn’t miss a trick, she thought as Tommy made the hasty introductions. She put her hand out to shake his, but he wouldn’t let her be formal. He pushed her hand away, pulled her into his arms, and hugged her. It was a brotherly embrace, and when she stepped back, he continued to hold on to her while he looked her over.
"I’m so happy to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much about you over the years," she said.
"I can’t believe we haven’t met before now," he replied. "I saw all the pictures of you when you were a kid. Tommy had them up on the wall of our dorm room, but that was years ago, and damn, Laurant, you sure have changed."
She laughed. "I hope I have. The sisters at the boarding school were thoughtful enough to send photos to my brother, but he, on the other hand, never sent me any."
"I didn’t own a camera," Tommy said.
"You could have borrowed one. You were too lazy."
"Men don’t think about things like that," he argued. "At least I didn’t. Nick, we should get her inside, shouldn’t we?"
"Yes, of course," he agreed.
Tommy held the screen door open and rudely shoved Laurant inside.
"What, in heaven’s name, is the matter with you?" she demanded.
"I’ll explain in a minute," he promised.
The foyer was dark and musty. Her brother rushed ahead and led the way into the kitchen at the back of the two-story house. There was a breakfast nook with a bay window overlooking Monsignor’s vegetable garden, which took up most of the fenced-in backyard. An old rectangular oak table, one leg propped up with a coaster so it wouldn’t wobble, and four spindle chairs sat in front of the three windows. The room had been recently painted a bright, cheerful yellow, but the blinds were torn and brown along the edges. They needed to be replaced, but she knew money was a precious commodity at Mercy.
Laurant stood in the center of the kitchen, watching her brother. He was acting like a nervous twit, pulling all the blinds down to the windowsill. Sunlight filtered into the kitchen through the cracks and tears, filling the room with soft light.
"What’s the matter with him?" she whispered to Nick.
"He’ll explain in a minute," he promised, repeating Tommy’s exact words to her.
In other words, be patient, she thought.
Nick pulled a chair out for her and took the seat adjacent to her. Tommy couldn’t seem to get settled. He sat down, then immediately jumped back up to get a notebook and pen from the linoleum counter. He was as jittery as a June bug.
Then Nick drew her attention when he stood up. His demeanor was just as serious as her brother’s. She watched him loosen his tie and unbutton the top button of his shirt. The man oozed sensuality, she thought to herself. Was there a woman back in Boston waiting for him to come home? She knew he wasn’t married, but he could be involved with someone. Surely he was.
Then Nick removed his jacket, and Laurant’s fantasies came to a screeching halt.
As Nick draped the coat over the back of the empty chair next to him he watched the abrupt change in Laurant. Her back was now pressed against the chair as though she were trying to put as much distance between them as possible. He also noticed she was staring at his gun. Just a few seconds ago, she had been open and friendly, bordering on flirtatious. Now she looked guarded and uncomfortable.
"The gun bother you?"
She didn’t give him a direct answer. "I thought you were an investigator."
"I am."
"Then why do you wear a gun?"
"It goes with the job," Tommy answered for his friend. He was shuffling through his papers, his head downcast while he tried to get organized.
Laurant’s patience had run out. "I’ve waited long enough, Tommy. I want to know why you’re acting so strange. I’ve never seen you this nervous."
"I have something to tell you," he began. "It’s kind of difficult to know where to start." Looking past her, he said the last to Nick, who nodded.
"I think I know what it is," she said. "You did get your lab results, didn’t you? And you’re afraid to tell me about them. Did you think I’d make a scene, and that’s why you waited? They weren’t good, were they?"
He let out a weary sigh. "I got the results last night as a matter of fact. I was going to tell you later… after I explained what happened yesterday."
"Tell me now," she said quietly.
"Doctor Cowan felt real bad that the lab had screwed up the first time and so he made them rush the second blood work. He called from a wedding reception to let me know he finally got the results and everything’s fine. Now will you relax?"
"So there’s definitely no chemo this time?" Her voice sounded like that of a child, and she had so wanted to be adult about this. If anything happened to her brother, she didn’t know what she would do. It seemed to her that she had only just found him and now this horrible illness was trying to take him away from her. "If everything’s going so well, then why are you so nervous? And you are nervous, Tommy. Don’t tell me you aren’t."
"Maybe you ought to just let her listen to the tape," Nick suggested.
"I don’t want her to hear it yet. It’ll be too much of a shock."
"Then let her read the transcript the police made."
Tommy shook his head. "I think it would be better if I just told her what happened first." He took a deep breath, then plunged in. "Laurant, this man came into the confessional just as I was about to close up." He paused for a few seconds while he collected his thoughts and then began again. "After I talked to the police, I made some notes, and while I was writing down what he said-"
Her eyes widened in disbelief, and she couldn’t stop herself from interrupting him. "You wrote down a man’s confession? You can’t do that. It’s against the rules, isn’t it?"
He held up his hand to stop her. "I know what the rules are. I’m a priest, remember?"
"You don’t need to snap at me."
"Sorry," he muttered. "Look, I’m just edgy and I’ve got a hell of a headache, that’s all. This guy… all the while he was talking to me, he was making a tape."
She was astonished. "He recorded the conversation? Why would anyone want to tape his own confession?"
"He probably wanted a keepsake," Nick suggested.
Tommy nodded. "So anyway, he must have gone right out and made a copy of the tape. We know it isn’t the original because of the whirling sound in the background," he explained. "He dropped the copy off at the police station. Can you believe it, Laurant? He just sauntered inside and left it on a desk."