“Andrew obviously doesn’t have a future as a doorman,” the woman said, smiling at Suzanne.
“He’s got good lungs though. Maybe an announcer?”
“Possibly. How can I help you?” the woman asked.
Suzanne exhaled heavily and searched for the words. She decided to simply go with the truth and see where it got her.
“My name is Suzanne Kanter. I’m a reporter. And I’m investigating your brother. Will you answer some questions?”
Elizabeth’s hands tightened on the towel. According to Suzanne’s records, Elizabeth was a mere forty-eight, although her face looked far younger, the veins in her hands aged her far beyond those years.
“Come to the greenhouse,” Elizabeth finally said. “The boys never go in there. We’ll be able to talk in private.”
Once inside the greenhouse, Elizabeth handed Suzanne a trowel and together they planted tiny seedlings in large clay pots.
“Investigating my brother?” Elizabeth asked. “Do I even want to know why?”
“He’s up for bishop of the diocese. The youngest priest by ten years on the short list.”
Elizabeth only snorted a laugh as she stabbed her trowel into the black dirt.
“I got an anonymous tip about him,” Suzanne continued. “The list of names for the priests on the short list. His name had an asterisk beside it and a note that said there was possible conflict of interest. It’s not much, I know. But I get the feeling he’s got secrets. Maybe dangerous ones.”
“My brother has secrets on top of secrets. He has secrets he might not even know he has.” Elizabeth picked up a seedling, peeled off a few leaves and set it in a hole in the dirt. “Why do you think I would know them?”
“Kingsley Edge…he told me to ask you if I wanted to know about Father Stearns. I thought about talking to Claire. She seems interesting.”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “You won’t get anything from Claire. She’s in love with our brother. Has been all our life. He absolutely hung the moon to her. When she pictures God, he looks like our brother.”
“That sounds…unhealthy.”
“Not unhealthy. Just excessive. She didn’t grow up with him the way I did. I’m not saying he’s a bad person. He’s not. He’s almost as worthy of her adoration as she thinks he is.”
“But only almost?” Suzanne prompted.
Elizabeth exhaled and sat her trowel aside.
“Ms. Kanter—”
“You can call me Suzanne.”
“Suzanne…when you tell me you’re investigating my brother, a Catholic priest, I have to assume you’re looking for evidence of sexual abuse. Yes?”
Suzanne didn’t demur. “Yes. It’s really the only thing that concerns me.”
“Hits close to home, does it?”
Opening her mouth, Suzanne paused before closing it again.
“Yes. My brother was a victim. He killed himself a few years ago. I think that’s why whoever sent that tip picked me. They knew I wouldn’t stop looking until I found the truth.”
“Oh, God, the truth. There’s nothing in the world more misleading than the truth. The truth, Ms. Kanter—Suzanne—is that I know my brother. I know who he is. I know what he is. And I told him years ago that if he ever followed in our father’s footsteps, if he ever harmed a child, if he ever took advantage of anyone in his congregation…well, I would make sure he shared our father’s fate. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it.”
Elizabeth picked up the trowel again and stabbed it deep into the dirt far harder the necessary.
Staring, Suzanne couldn’t quite believe what she’d heard. Did Elizabeth Stearns just confess to murdering her father? No…surely not. She must not have meant it quite like that. Suzanne swallowed as she picked up another seedling and carefully cleaned the roots.
Elizabeth looked up at Suzanne. A silence hung high and heavy between them. Both women waited… Elizabeth broke first.
“I was eight years old when our father came to my room the first time.”
Suzanne inhaled sharply and covered her mouth with her dirt-blackened hand.
“I’m so…”
“Sorry, yes. I know. Everyone’s sorry. Especially my late father currently burning in hell. He’s very sorry now.”
“You were only eight years old. Did your brother know about it?”
Elizabeth shook her head.
“No. Father sent him away to some boarding school in England. Wanted his only son to have a proper British education like the one he’d had. Thankfully my brother got kicked out of his proper English boarding school and sent back to us. Otherwise my father’s attentions to me would have gone on for years longer than they did.”
“Kicked out? What happened?”
Elizabeth laughed a cold, mirthless laugh.
“When you met my brother the first time, were you afraid of him?”
“The first time?” Suzanne laughed coldly. “I’m still afraid of him.”
“Yes, well, he’s always been like that. Always. As a boy at this school… I don’t know. I’ve only heard snippets of the story. English boarding schools were notorious back then. The older boys, the prefects or whatever they were called, would use the younger boys.”
From the way Elizabeth pronounced the word use, Suzanne didn’t have to ask her to clarify.
“What happened?”