Chapter two
"Hello Gil," said the priest as he stood there blocking the entrance.
Grissom stared at Father Andrew.
"Can I help you?" asked the priest.
"I would like to speak with Father Powell," said Grissom.
"He's away. I'm filling in for him," replied Father Andrew.
"I'll speak with him when he returns," said Grissom as he tried to pass him.
"That could be months."
It did not stop Grissom.
"How is your mother?" asked Father Andrew.
"She's fine," he replied as he again tried to pass.
"Gil, could I talk with you?" asked Father Andrew.
"I'm sorry. I need to get back," fumed Grissom.
"Still angry after all of these years," replied the old man sadly.
Brass entered the church and stared at the two men.
"Good," said Brass. "Someone said Father Powell was not here."
"Father Powell…" began Brass.
"He's not Father Powell. This is Andrew…"
"I'm Father Andrew. Could I help you?"
"We found a young boy dressed as an altar boy," explained Brass.
He handed Father Andrew a photo of the body.
"Do you know this boy?" asked Brass.
Father Andrew looked at the photo and sat down abruptly.
"Yes…I do. That's Ben," he said softly. "Ben Taylor. He lives just three blocks from here."
"You been here a long time?" asked Brass.
"I came here a month ago. Father Powell and I are old friends. I agreed to help out while he's away."
Brass watched as Grissom and Father Andrew exchanged glances.
"You two know one another?" asked Brass.
"Yes," answered Father Andrew as Grissom shook his head.
"I knew Andrew when I was young."
"It is Father, right?" asked Brass.
"Gil stopped calling me Father years ago, but yes, it's Father Andrew," replied the old man as he stared at the photo.
"Are you okay?" asked Brass.
"I thought I was until I saw this photo," he answered softly.
"We'll talk with the parents…"
"I'll tell her," interrupted Father Andrew. "Ben's father was killed in Iraq last year. She'll be getting off work soon. Ben usually comes here after school."
"Did he come here this evening?" asked Brass.
"I didn't see him. Sometimes, he stays at school for band practice."
"Are there other altar boys who come here after school?" asked Brass.
"Yes…there are other children as well. The parents think this is a safe place for them to hang out. The church lets them play in the basement or out back."
"Mind if we talk with the other children here?" asked Brass.
Father Andrew shook his head. "I can show you…"
"That's not necessary. I know the way to the basement," answered Grissom as he turned around.
"Gil?" called Father Andrew.
He turned and looked.
"Do you come to mass?" he asked.
"No, I don't."
"Would you come? Mass is at…"
"No thank you. I don't believe anymore."
Father Andrew gripped the back of the pew.
"You don't mean that," he said.
"If you'll excuse us, we have work to do," said Grissom as he turned and walked away.
Brass looked back as the man knelt in prayer.
"Never seen you so harsh before," said Brass. "What's the story between you two?"
Grissom glanced back. "I was an altar boy…I once worshipped him."
"Wait, you were an altar boy? He was your priest?"
Grissom continued down the stairs.
"He didn't…"
"No," answered Grissom.
"So what did he…."
Grissom opened the door and found several boys playing a game.
"Hey, have any of you seen Ben Taylor today?" asked Brass.
They shook their head.
Brass continued with the questions as Grissom stared at the pictures on the walls. Little had changed since he had been there. He had only been in the basement a few times. Father Powell had befriended him after a case. He had returned from time to time seeking Grissom's help. They had formed a friendship over time despite Grissom's refusal to come to mass.
As they left, they found Father Andrew with a young woman who sat there in tears.
Father Andrew glanced up at the two men.
"Mrs. Taylor, these are the two men working on your son's case," he announced.
Grissom stared at Andrew as Brass questioned the mother.
The old man looked away when he could no longer bear to see the hurt and anger in Grissom's eyes.
Brass and Grissom left the church and headed back to the crime scene.
Father Andrew hurried out of the church.
He called for Grissom.
"Gil, please stop," he called.
"Is there something about the case?" he asked.
"No, it's about us. Gil, I need to talk with you," he pleaded.
"There's nothing to talk about," fumed Grissom as he continued to walk away.
"Please!" implored Father Andrew as he grabbed his arm.
"Let go," warned Grissom.
"Let go of the anger my son. Don't let it consume you…"
"I am not your son and you are no father to me."
"Nothing has changed. You're still the same angry child you were when…"
He stopped when Brass stepped forward.
"Come by and we'll talk," Andrew begged.
"I have no desire to talk with you," replied Grissom.
"Emily…how is she?" he asked.
"Why don't you ask her yourself?" responded Grissom as he walked away.
"Who's Emily?" asked Brass.
"My mother."
"Oh."
He was relieved when he slipped into the Denali. He wanted nothing more than to get back to the lab putting some distance between him and Father Andrew. He was about to drive away when Brass tapped on the window.
"Yes?"
"Going to tell me the back story between you and Father Andrew?"
"No."
"Do I need to know?"
"No."
He drove away leaving Brass confused.
Grissom waited until Catherine was alone before he approached her.
"I need a favor," he said.
"Okay."
"I need you to take over the Taylor case," he announced handing her the file.
"Is there something wrong?" she asked.
"Conflict of interest," he replied.
"You know the Taylor family?" she asked.
"He was Catholic," he explained.
"Wait. You're handing off the case because of religion?" she asked.
"No, I'm handing off the case because I know the priest that was acting on behalf of Father Powell."
"A relative?" she asked.
"Catherine, take the case."
"Not going to give me anything more?"
"No."
"He's not the kind of priest that would molest and then kill young boys?" asked Catherine.
"I'll leave that for you to determine…he pretended to be a father when he wasn't."
His words shocked and baffled her.
She wanted to ask more but Grissom had already turned and left.
Brass walked in and watched Grissom disappear down the hall.
"Hey, did he say anything about the autopsy on Ben Taylor?" asked Brass.
"I'll find out for you. He just assigned the case to me," grumbled Catherine.
"Since when does Grissom hand off cases he's worked first hand?"
"Since he doesn't like a certain priest that's involved," grumbled Catherine.
"Did he tell you why he doesn't like Father Andrew?"
"Not really. You know, I've never seen him like this," admitted Catherine.
"Me either."
Note from author:
Thanks to all of my readers who have returned to read this story. I have missed you! Please continue to leave a review so we can move forward. As always, a new chapter will be posted each day...perhaps more.
Take care,
Penny
