The Embassy Suites
Omaha, Nebraska

Father Michael Keller could feel the digitalis starting to work. He knew it was probably only his imagination. There was no guarantee that the antidote would help, let alone work this quickly. But the cold sweats had stopped. His stomach had settled down and despite being empty it no longer churned. However, he wasn’t too sure if his eyesight had returned to normal.

He sat in the hotel lobby enjoying the piped-in music—a commercial attempt at Pachelbel’s Canon in D Minor—and taking in all the sights outside: tourists in the Old Market strolling up and down the cobblestones, cars and buses and even Olley the Trolley zooming along. He watched it all, enjoying what in his previous life had annoyed and irritated him. His eyesight seemed fine until he saw a man and two teenage boys come through the revolving hotel door, then he wondered if he was seeing things again.

Was he mistaken or did he know the man? He couldn’t place him. More importantly, the boy in the bright orange T-shirt and baggie cargo shorts looked very familiar. It was possible that they had been parishioners when he was at Saint Margaret’s in Platte City.

He pretended not to watch as he sipped another glorious cup of hot tea. This place was like a dream—paradise on earth. He wished he could stay forever, but now that he had handed over everything to Maggie O’Dell and Detective Pakula his mission would soon come to an end.

On the long flight here he had reaffirmed his decisions. He wasn’t going back. He’d get on the flight just as he had promised Agent O’Dell. But there was no reason to punish himself any longer. With everything he had given them, surely they would find The Sin Eater. It was only a matter of time. And in the meantime he needed to find somewhere else safe. Why not a small rural parish where no one knew him? Maybe someplace outside of Chicago.

He’d tell them the archdiocese had sent him, just as he had each time in the past four years. It might take months, maybe even a year, before anyone would find out differently. And if they did, he’d simply pick up and go somewhere else. There was no reason it couldn’t work just as well here.

But there was one thing that still bothered him. Maggie O’Dell’s question nagged at him. “Why do you suppose you’re on this list, Father Keller?”

Until she had asked that simple question he had believed he could stay and be safe and free. But that one single question made him realize that there could still be someone else out there other than Agent O’Dell and The Sin Eater who could hurt him, who could continue to make his life miserable if he didn’t stop them.

He was distracted again and heard the man with the boys speaking to the desk clerk. He couldn’t make out the words.

He listened. Still no recognition.

The man turned and pointed out something to the boys and called out to the one in the orange T-shirt. He called him Timmy, and then it all came back to him as if it had happened only yesterday. He remembered and immediately he knew that must have been how he had gotten on the list. His one regret was the one little boy he hadn’t been able to save. Timmy Hamilton had submitted his name to The Sin Eater.