Father Callahan disconnected with the detective, stopped under a streetlamp to see the numbers on his phone, as the battery grew weaker. He punched in Sean O’Brien’s number. “Sean, are you near? My phone battery’s about to die.”
“Be there soon, Father. Bad storm’s moving your way. It blew down a tree across State Road 44. I’m in my Jeep. I’ll go around the cars and cops. I’ll just be a few minutes late.”
“I just spoke with a detective. He said the reporter who approached me in the ER lobby was an imposter.”
“What?”
“The detective said he believes the man was the same person who shot Sam Spelling. Spelling’s letter says-”
“Father, can you hear me? You’re voice is fading. If you can hear me, I’ll be there very soon.
Deputy Tim Gleason was hoping to get a final refill of his coffee when he saw a priest approaching, walking down the long hospital corridor. There was something different about the way Father Callahan walked. The slight give to the left foot was gone. Now he moved with an aggressive step. He had a more determined gait than when he’d spoken with Gleason and Detective Grant earlier.
Deputy Gleason could see the man approaching wasn’t Father Callahan. This man wore a fedora hat. Could be because of the pouring rain, thought Gleason. The priest had wider shoulders, neatly trimmed dark beard and black frame glasses.
Maybe priests have a shift rotation, too. Maybe he was from a different church.
The priest stopped a few feet away from the room door.
Deputy Gleason stood and said, “He’s still out of it, Father.”
The priest nodded. In a low whisper he said, “Sometimes just a voice, the word of God, can penetrate a sleeping man’s soul. The power of prayer aids recovery.”
The veiled, black eyes held on Gleason. The deputy felt tension and embarrassment at the same time. There was something about this priest that didn’t seem right-but he was a man of God, and who was Gleason to judge him?
“Father, I’m a firm believer in prayer for healing the sick.”
“Bless you, my son.”
“Thank you, Father.” Deputy Gleason stepped aside. “You can go on in.”
“Thank you. Please open the door. I hurt my wrist playing tennis.”