A Prayer for the Devil (5 page)

On the way home, Deborah pointed to a road sign leading toward the North End of downtown Boston. Surprised, Luke questioned, “Do you want to go that way?” She nodded in confirmation. A few minutes later, she pointed at another sign, and Luke continued following her nonverbal directions. They parked on the street near Christopher Columbus Waterfront Park, and she finally broke her silence. “Walk with me.” Luke climbed out of the car, but before he could open Deborah’s door, she was already out and walking down a path toward the water. When Luke caught up, she moved close and slowed her pace. Several minutes passed before she spoke again. “Before the children were born, Aaron and I would often come here to walk. Our life was so much simpler back then—before all the money, houses, cars, and
politics; I wish we could turn back time.” Luke noticed that she was so close to him that their shoulders rubbed as they walked. “I want to tell you something before you hear it in the press. I think Aaron was seeing someone.” Luke didn’t respond. “I’m not positive, but one of my friends saw him with a beautiful blonde woman at lunch one day a few weeks ago. When I asked him about it, he said he didn’t know what I was talking about. And I’ve heard him on the phone late at night.”

Luke stopped walking and turned to face her. “I don’t think Aaron would do that. I knew him better than anyone, and he wouldn’t do that.”

She looked down and continued. “After Alessa was born, I couldn’t lose all the weight I gained during pregnancy, and I think it bothered him. He never said anything to my face, but I would see him looking at other women.” As she looked up, Luke could see tears welling in her eyes. Forcing a smile, she continued, “Do you know what women shop for when they gain weight?”

Luke smiled back. “No, what?”

“Shoes.”

“Shoes?”

“Yes, shoes. When you gain weight, shopping for clothes is upsetting. It’s a constant reminder that you are fatter than you want to be. But shoes, they still fit. When we get back to the house, take a look in my closet. You’ll be amazed.”

They shared a much-needed laugh. Getting serious, Luke held her hand. “I’m going to tell you something about Aaron that you might not know.”

She squeezed his hand.

“He never liked skinny women. When we were in high school we shared a room. Sometimes late at night we would talk when the lights were out. Do you remember Jennifer Dubrowsky?”

“Yes, she was your girlfriend.”

“Do you remember what she looked like?”

She smiled.

Before she could speak, he continued. “One night during one of our chats, I asked Aaron if he thought she was overweight. I know it was shallow and superficial; I liked the way she looked, but some of my friends would comment that she could lose a few pounds. Aaron didn’t respond right away, but I’ll never forget what he said.”

Anxious to hear his response, she whispered, “Tell me.”

“He said that he thought she was perfect. He didn’t like malnourished women and always thought full-figured women were more attractive. For years, whenever we would see a super-skinny woman we would look at each other and smile. I’m sure he loved the way you look.”

“Luke, you didn’t know him for the past year; he had changed. He made new powerful friends. They attended late-night parties and political fund-raiser meetings with lobbyists. I don’t know if he did this in an attempt to fill the void that was left after you two quit talking, but believe me, Luke, he had changed.”

She stopped and pointed at the back of a huge yacht docked at the marina. Luke was astonished. Deborah put her arm though his and looked out at the water. “He told me that as soon as the presidential election was over, he was going to take whatever measures were necessary to mend his relationship with you. He was so excited to show you this boat.” As she began to sob, Luke held her while trying to fight back his own stinging tears. The name on the back of the yacht was
Blood Brothers
.

PULLING THROUGH THE OPEN
gates and into the garage, Luke exited the car and quickly walked over to help Deborah out. As they reached the door to the house, he handed her the car keys, but she pushed his hand away. “Luke, I want you to keep the car.”

He was flustered. “Deborah, I can’t.”

She interrupted, saying once again, “Luke, Aaron would want you to have it. As you can see, I have plenty of cars. Please, just take the car.”

Reluctantly, he nodded. “I’ll just use it until I get my truck fixed.” Then he took her by the hands and turned her to face him. As she looked him directly in the eyes, he brought up the subject that was on everyone’s mind but no one wanted to discuss. “Deb, I don’t know if my presence here is helping or hurting. I feel like I’m pretending to be Aaron and everyone is very willing to accept that. I don’t know what to do, but you and everyone else need to know that I’m not Aaron. I think it’s time for me to go back to the rectory.”

She shook her head and pleaded, “Luke, for the sake of the children and your parents, please don’t leave us. We need you now. I need you now. I promise that I’ll work harder to help everyone understand,
but please just give it some time. I’m so thankful that you’re here, and I’m sure Aaron is too. Please, Luke, I’m begging you, stay with us a little while longer.”

What could he do? He reluctantly agreed.

Luke played with the kids in the backyard as Deborah watched, and he tried to ignore it when they called him “Daddy.” It broke his heart. He needed to spend some time alone. Excusing himself, he went to his bedroom, closed the door, and knelt down to pray. He asked for healing, for peace, and for direction, but mostly he asked for the power to forgive, the one thing he couldn’t seem to do. Even as he prayed, he continued to think about justice. He wanted someone to pay for his loss and the pain it had caused his family. After about an hour, he decided to do something that none of his family had done since the explosion. He lay down on the bed and reached over to open the drawer of the nightstand, where he found the television control.

It had been ten days since Aaron’s death, and the news of the explosion still filled the airwaves. Many of the so-called experts believed that the bombing had something to do with Ablaa Raboud, but government officials had downplayed these theories, noting that she belonged to a reformed Muslim movement that believed in peace, not jihad. Although relatively small in size and destruction, with “only” eight people killed and eleven injured, this event captivated the nation due to the murder of Brad Thompson, an immensely popular candidate. News trucks and reporters from around the globe continued to infiltrate the city to unearth details of what the press now termed the “Bombing in Boston.”

From the White House to the local police, officials were focused on preventing another attack. National alerts were updated hourly, and
security was heightened at airports, stadiums, and other public venues, leading most Americans to believe that another bombing was imminent. Luke understood the need for national security and preventing another incident, but he wondered if anyone was focused on finding out who killed his brother. It seemed to him that the country was in a defensive mode rather than taking the offensive.

Over the next few days, Luke noticed that life became more normal for his immediate family. The constant crying had subsided, and his parents were settling back in to their old routines. Deborah and the children were making the best of a horrible situation. Luke had created his own daily routine that included a morning workout before anyone else was awake, a shower and prayers, then playing with the children and reading the local papers. He had more free time on his hands than ever before, and he was becoming restless. The constant boredom wasn’t helping; he was impatient for the police to solve the case. Luke finally decided that he had waited long enough for someone else to figure out what happened to Aaron. Tomorrow he would abandon his passive priest persona and go on the offensive to find the murderer himself.

LUKE OPENED HIS EYES
and saw that the clock on his nightstand read 5:35 a.m. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but he was already relieved to know that today he would recapture a small piece of his freedom. He quickly dressed, quietly opened his bedroom door, and crept down the hallway into the garage. He sat in the Mercedes and pressed the garage door opener on the visor. As the door opened, Luke started the car, hoping that he didn’t wake anyone in the house. He backed out quickly and pressed the button again, closing the door. Easing down the driveway, he was surprised to see that there was no sign of anyone. He used the keychain remote to open the electric gate and drove through, startling a security guard who must have fallen asleep in his car. Waving, Luke put his foot to the floor, and the car sped down the deserted street.

He checked his rearview mirror several times to ensure that he wasn’t being followed. After a few blocks, Luke turned onto a neighborhood street and then turned again, heading in the direction from which he had come. He slowed the car and pulled over to the side of the road. He waited a few minutes, looked in his mirrors one last time, and turned the wheel while pressing on the gas. The powerful
sedan jumped the curb with little effort, and he steered it into a narrow clearing in the woods. He slowly inched it forward until the car was unnoticeable from the road, then he turned off the engine. He stepped out and walked over to an old stone wall, where he had strategically placed an aluminum ladder several days before, after he had cleared a pathway. Reassured that he could now escape the confines of the house without the paparazzi or reporters knowing, he climbed over the wall, strolled across the familiar backyard, and entered the house through the back door.