Nick and Father Keller stomped their way up the steps just as Maggie came out the front door of the rectory. Immediately, Nick checked her eyes, anxious to see if she had found anything. Her quick glance and a smile for Father Keller left him without a clue.

“Are you feeling any better?” Father Keller sounded genuinely concerned.

“Much. Thank you.”

“It’s a good thing you didn’t come with us,” Nick said, still feeling sick to his stomach. Who could do something like that to a defenseless dog? Then he felt ridiculous. It was obvious who had done it.

“Why? What did you find?” Maggie wanted to know.

“I’ll tell you about it later.”

“Would the two of you like some tea now?” Father Keller offered.

“No, thanks. We need—”

“Yes, actually,” Maggie interrupted Nick. “Perhaps that might settle my stomach. That is, if it’s not an inconvenience?”

“Of course not. Come in. I’ll see if we have some sweet rolls or perhaps doughnuts.”

They followed the priest in, and again Nick tried to catch a glimpse of Maggie’s face, unsure of her sudden enthusiasm to spend more time with the priest she despised.

“Nice to see you supporting the local merchants.” Father Keller smiled as he took her jacket.

She smiled back without an explanation and went into the living room. Nick brushed off his boots, staying on the welcome mat in the foyer. He glanced up to find Father Keller checking out Maggie’s tight jeans. Keller’s wasn’t a simple glance, but a long, self-indulgent look. Suddenly, the priest looked back at Nick, and Nick bent over his jacket’s zipper, pretending to struggle with it. Before the suspicion and anger crept into his mind, Nick reminded himself that even Father Keller was a man. And Maggie did look awfully good in jeans and that tight red sweater. Any man would have to be brain-dead not to notice.

Father Keller disappeared around the corner, and Nick joined Maggie in front of the fireplace.

“What’s going on?” he whispered.

“Do you have Christine’s cellular?”

“I think it’s still in my jacket pocket.”

“Could you please get it?”

He stared at her, waiting for some explanation, but instead she squatted in front of the fire to warm her hands. When he came back with the phone, she was poking through the ashes with an iron poker. He stood with his back to her, as though standing guard.

“What are you doing?” It was difficult to whisper through clenched teeth.

“I could smell something earlier. It smelled like burnt rubber.”

“He’ll be back any second.”

“Whatever it was, it’s ashes now.”

“Cream, lemon, sugar?” Father Keller came around the corner with a full tray. By the time he set it on the bench in front of the window, Maggie was standing by Nick’s side.

“Lemon, please,” Maggie answered casually.

“Cream and sugar for me,” Nick said, only now noticing that his foot was tapping nervously.

“If you two will excuse me, I need to make a phone call,” Maggie said suddenly.

“There’s a phone in the office down the hall.” Father Keller pointed.

“Oh, no thanks. I’ll just use Nick’s cellular. May I?”

Nick handed her the phone, still looking for some sign as to what she was up to. She went back toward the foyer for privacy while Father Keller handed Nick a steaming cup of tea.

“Would you like a roll?” The priest offered a plate of assorted pastry.

“No, thanks.” Nick tried to keep an eye on Maggie, but she was gone.

A phone began ringing, muffled but insistent. Father Keller looked puzzled, then headed quickly for the hallway.

“What on earth are you doing, Agent O’Dell?”

Nick slammed down his cup, spilling hot liquid on his hand and the polished table. He scrambled around the corner to see Maggie with the cellular phone to her ear as she walked down the hall, stopping and listening at each door. Father Keller followed close behind, questioning her and receiving no answers.

“What exactly are you doing, Agent O’Dell?” He tried to get in front of her, but she squeezed past.

Nick jogged down the hall, his nerves raw, the adrenaline pounding again.

“What’s going on, Maggie?”

The muffled ringing of a phone continued, the sound getting closer and closer. Finally, Maggie pushed open the last door on the left, and the sound became crisp and clear.

“Whose room is this?” Maggie asked as she stood in the doorway.

Again, Father Keller seemed paralyzed. He looked confused, but also indignant.

“Father Keller, would you please get the phone,” she asked politely, leaning against the doorjamb, careful not to enter. “It sounds as if it’s in one of those drawers.”

The priest still didn’t move, staring into the room. The ringing grated on Nick’s nerves. Then Nick realized that Maggie had called the number. He saw Christine’s cellular phone in Maggie’s hand, the buttons lit up and blinking with each ring of the hidden phone.

“Father Keller, please get the phone,” she instructed again.

“This is Ray’s room. I don’t believe it’s proper for me to go through his things.”

“Just get the phone, please. It’s a small, black flip-style.”

He stared at her, then finally went into the room, slowly and hesitantly. Within seconds the ringing stopped. He came back out and handed her the small black cellular phone. She tossed it to Nick.

“Where is Mr. Howard, Father Keller? He needs to come down to the sheriff’s department with us to answer some questions.”

“He’s probably cleaning the church. I’ll go get him.”

Nick waited until Father Keller was out of sight.

“What’s going on, Maggie? Why are you suddenly convinced we need to question Howard? And what’s with calling his cell phone? How the hell did you even know his number?”

“I didn’t dial his number, Nick. I dialed my cellular phone number. That’s not his phone. It’s mine. It’s the one I lost in the river.”