The Pastor’s Jezebel Lover (7 page)

“I’ll be there in five,” was his only response, and when she repeated her statement, she knew she was talking to no one. He’d already hung up.

As if on cue the moment she laid down the phone the whine of sirens became audible, and before long they’d stopped right outside her door.

With extreme effort, she rose from the chair.

A new and fresh chapter in the horror story that was her life had begun to unfold, and she was determined to face it head-on, though she wondered if she would have the strength…

Across the street curtains shifted and curious eyes peered out as the police escorted Eileen from her house to the waiting car, her hands handcuffed behind her back.

Ramon was right. They had charged her with the murder of Jacqueline Doulard and once again expressed the advice to seek legal aid as soon as possible, as this was only going to get worse.

Staring out the window of the police car, she watched dispassionately as neighbors started to gather in the street, their tongues wagging and their eyes roving. She was used to that by now, but still had the inclination to duck down and disappear, the eyes like physical daggers stabbing into her, their wounds perhaps not as visible as the ones inflicted by real weapons, but the hurt and trauma just as evident.

She now found herself wishing Ramon was here. Though she had insisted he stay away, she hoped he would ignore her request and show up anyway.

And then he was there. She recognized his car, the dark-green jalopy the ministry had provided him with, and her heart sang.

As he stepped out and approached her, she could sense the whole neighborhood getting into a tizzy. This was for sure the highlight of their lives, a day they would tell their children about, and their children’s children. The day Eileen Stoker, the town whore, had been arrested for murder, her lover, the town priest, leaping to her aid.

He stepped up to the car, and when the cop reluctantly rolled down the rear window, he placed a reassuring hand on her arm, his eyes warm and encouraging.

“I’m here, Eileen,” he murmured, “and I’m not going anywhere.”

He then stepped into the car, and when the police officer pointed out he couldn’t do such a thing, he said, “Watch me.”

In spite of her predicament, Eileen grinned. Suddenly she didn’t care about the neighbors or what anyone thought or said about her. She had one ally, and he was the man she loved.

And that was all she needed.

It wasn’t fair, Ramon thought as he escorted Eileen down the corridors of police headquarters. She had done nothing wrong her entire life, and yet everyone treated her like a criminal.

Before, he’d only heard the stories, and had decided to defer forming an opinion until he met the lady in the flesh. Well, he had met her, and more intimately than most, and now he could say without reservation that she was the kindest, sweetest, most guileless creature he’d ever met.

The Lord made her suffer and still she carried herself with a poise and a grace that belied her fate.

He didn’t get it. He didn’t get what drove people to treat her the way they did.

Granted, he was new in town, and hadn’t yet grasped all the intricacies of the social fabric here, and perhaps there were truths Eileen hadn’t yet shared with him lurking beneath the surface of this quiet town.

But still. Who in his or her right mind would want to harm a wonderful woman like her?

No, he didn’t get it. Talking to the policeman in charge of the investigation, it was obvious she was their number one suspect now. In fact she was the only suspect.

“But what about motive?” he finally asked, exasperated.

“Look, father. I’ve given you more leeway than you deserve. This is not your call and not your business, frankly,” Burt Howe exclaimed. “Spiritual guidance? Fine. But you’re not her lawyer or her relative, so from here on out, don’t interfere with our investigation, you hear me?”

Ramon gave this some thought. “What if I was her husband? Would I be allowed to interfere then?”

Burt rocked back in his chair, visibly horrified. “Her husband? Father, you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into here. Eileen Stoker is—”

“The woman I love,” Ramon interrupted him. “And I do intend to marry her. So if you have no objections, I would like to see my fiancée now.”

Burt closed his mouth with a click, a hostile gleam in his eye. Finally, he hoisted himself up from the chair, and escorted Ramon over to the cell they’d decanted Eileen in.

The moment they were alone, Ramon reached out and drew her into his arms. The woman was quivering, and when she broke into sobs, he held her tighter still.

“Eileen, the cop in charge has assured me this situation won’t be resolved quickly. They intend to keep you here until such time as the case goes to trial.”

She raised a tearful face to him. “But why? I had nothing to do with this.” She buried her face in her hands. “Oh, poor Jacqueline. Whoever did this to her is a monster.”

He stared before him, grim-faced, then touched her shoulder and bade her to take a seat on the hard bench. He crouched down and held her face in his hands.

“Eileen, I promise I’ll do everything in my power to get you out of here, but I’m afraid there’s only one way to do this.” He quickly summed up his reasons. “You have no friends in this town, and your mother doesn’t have the means to help you. I’m all you’ve got and officer Howe has warned me to stay away.”

“Perhaps he’s right,” she said softly. “Perhaps you should stay far away from me, Ramon.”

“Never,” he growled.

“You have to think about yourself. Your good name.”

“I don’t give a hoot about my good name. All I care about is to see justice done, and the only way to do it is by becoming your husband.”

Her eyes widened in shock, and he took her hands in his, directing a pleading look at her. “Right now I’m just an outsider. A friend. There’s not much I can do. But the moment we marry, that all changes. As your husband I can help you. I’ll be able to visit you. I can arrange your defense. I…”

She shook her head vehemently. “Ramon, this is crazy. You barely know me. You-you can’t put your life on the line for me, your career… I won’t let you. I simply won’t.”

“As things stand, your lot is still linked with that of your ex-husband, a man who clearly means you harm. But if you let me, I can arrange for a swift divorce, if it hasn’t gone through yet, and then I’ll marry you myself. It might be the difference between life or death, Eileen.”

She was still shaking her head, the thought simply too much for her.

He gripped her hands in his. “I won’t take no for an answer. I am marrying you and getting you out of here, if it’s the last thing I do.”

With these words, he rose to his feet and strode to the door, then rapped it smartly.

Before he could walk out, she’d flung herself in his arms again, and pressed her lips to his. Hungrily, he savored her, claiming her mouth and clasping her to his chest in a desperate gesture. I love you, Eileen. The thought flashed through his mind, but he didn’t voice it. Love had no place in today’s proceedings. She was a woman in need and he was a man placed here by providence to supply the solution.

A marriage would benefit them both, he thought. She would have a protector on the outside, and he would link this desirable woman to him to satisfy the deep urges of his flesh. He wanted her more than he could put into words, but that was neither here nor there.

Before they parted, she looked up at him, despair written all over her face.

“Yes,” she urged. “Yes, I’ll do it, Ramon. If you can arrange for us to be married, I’ll say yes.” She pressed her lips to his again in a gesture of urgency, and as their tongues met in an intoxicating dance, he felt her bosom heaving against his chest, her body trembling with both fear and lust, and he knew the same emotions were mirrored within himself.

A cough behind him told him it was time to say goodbye, and when he reluctantly let her slip from his grip, he croaked, “You have my word, Eileen. I will take care of this.”

And with those words he was ushered from the small cell and away from the woman he loved. Or was it simply lust after all? Confused, he hurried out the station house. Whatever the case may be, he’d vowed to save her and save her he would.

Eileen rested her burning brow against the cool sheet covering her simple cot. Prison. She’d been through a lot in her short life, but had never sunk as low as this.

And the most frustrating aspect of it was she had no clue as to what was going on.

All she knew was that poor Jacqueline was dead. She remembered the willowy lawyer well. Blond and capable, she was about her age, and had come highly recommended by her mother, whom she’d helped sort through some legal issues after her father’s untimely death five years before.

The woman had assured her she’d take care of all the paperwork involved in the divorce, and after she had appeared in court twice, expressing her intention to be permanently separated from Jack, Jacqueline had congratulated her and sent her the bill along with a legal document stating she was now officially divorced.

So what had happened? Had Jacqueline double-crossed her? But why? And how?

She let her eyes drift closed, resting on the thin mattress, and willing her mind to stop its endless cycle of guilt and recrimination. Finally, when the tailspin she found herself in wouldn’t stop, she placed her fingers together, folded her hands, and prayed.

Ramon, she thought. Ramon had proposed to marry her. She didn’t know why exactly he’d offered it, though she had a pretty good idea. He lusted after her body, just like all men did, and lust, she knew, was a very powerful elixir. Sex had a devastating effect on the male psyche, driving the species to rash acts of madness.

To some degree it gratified her that her sexuality had compelled Ramon to step into the breach, though on the other hand she feared the effect might wear thin all too soon. As long as it remained intact for now, though, she might benefit from it.

He wanted her, that much was obvious, and the more he lusted after her, the more he would move heaven and earth to spring her from prison.

For a very brief moment she’d thought he might perhaps love her, but now she knew he was just like all men, and like them, he would eventually disappoint her.

The sound of a key being turned in the lock freed her from the agony of pondering Ramon, and when she looked up, she found herself staring into the dispassionate gray eyes of Burt Howe.

She briefly wondered if she could perhaps seduce this man to show some remorse, but then decided against it. It was exactly the kind of behavior she’d been accused of in the recent past, and she wasn’t that woman.

Her head held high, she walked past the officer as he held the door, and escorted her to what looked like the same interrogation chamber as last time.

Only this time she was a prisoner, and not a free woman.

“Miss Stoker,” he began, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “Where were you last night between eleven and one o’clock?”

She briefly flashed back to Ramon and the passionate love they’d made. She eyed the policeman coldly, knowing he’d tell the story all over town the minute she discussed it with him.

But she had no choice. She had to tell the truth. “I was with Father Ramon,” she finally admitted.

The policeman’s brows rose. “And he will confirm this?”

“I’m sure he will.”

He made a brief note, then continued, “How do you account for the fact that your fingerprints were found on the weapon that killed Miss Doulard?”

“I… what weapon? You haven’t even told me what happened to… Jacqueline.”

The policeman placed a picture before her. On it was displayed a gun, placed in a clump of grass.

“Do you recognize this gun, Miss Stoker?”

“I don’t,” she said, horrified by the sight of the vile weapon. The policeman then placed a real gun on the table, wrapped in a plastic baggie. It looked identical to the one in the picture.

“We matched the fingerprints on this gun to yours, Eileen. A perfect match.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, then she swallowed, her throat dry. Directing a pleading look at the policeman, she stammered, “I have no idea how that’s possible. I’ve never owned a gun, or touched one in my life. I-I would never hurt a soul, officer.” She stared at the weapon. “Never.”

“Then why are your fingerprints all over it?” he grunted as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop.

“Have you asked my husband where he was last night?” she suddenly burst out. “I’m sure he’s behind this whole thing.”

“I have. He was with some friends when it happened, and they all corroborate his story.”

She slumped, then thought of something else. “Perhaps he knew her. Have you checked into that? Perhaps Jack paid Jacqueline to mess up the divorce and then-then he killed her.” She displayed a confused frown. It didn’t make sense. Why would he go to all this trouble just to frame her?

“Your husband did know Miss Doulard,” the policeman intoned. He gave her a quick look of concern. “She was his girlfriend, in fact.”

Her blood ran cold. “His girlfriend?”

“He claims you were so upset when he filed for divorce that you threatened both his and her life. Said you came over to his house and told him…” He checked his notes. “You allegedly told him that you ‘would make his life a living hell’ if he got married to Jacqueline Doulard.”

“But… he never filed for divorce. I did. And I never saw him again after the divorce went through.”

“Which it apparently never did,” added the policeman.

“Jacqueline assured me it did. She even sent me a copy of the ruling.”

The policeman sat up a little straighter. “Do you still have that document?”

“I have everything. It’s in my email. We emailed back and forth several times.”

“I would very much like to see that correspondence. It might disprove some of Mr Rafter’s claims.”

“Which claims?”

“That you never obtained Miss Doulard’s services at all. He did, when you refused to grant him a divorce. And when they fell in love and started an affair, you became so jealous you vowed to kill her and destroy his life in the process.”