A Novel Idea
Chapter Three
"Oh dear," Father Mulcahy said out loud as he neared the end of Margaret's chapter. "I thought I asked them not to go into such… sexy detail." He could feel his face redden a little. "It's only kissing, I know, but my word! I'm not going to read that section again!"
He tapped his pen against the notepad and thought. This story seemed to be meandering. But one thing was for sure: it certainly wasn't going to be up to him to keep it on track. He couldn't continue the romance that Margaret had started, no sir. Perhaps it was time to introduce a new character.
The knocking at the door was insistent, and Father Mooney hurried to answer it. He flung open the door and a man he'd never seen before stepped into the church.
"Can I help you, young man?" he asked, a little unsettled by the late-night visit.
"I'm sorry, Father, I know you've locked the church up for the night. But I need to make a confession. It can't wait. Is that all right?"
"Of course, my son. Please come this way."
Once inside the confessional, Father Mooney said, "You may begin, my son."
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. I, uh…"
"That's all right, son. Take all the time you need."
"Oh, I'd better just blurt it out, Father. I need to do this before I lose my nerve. I was trying to kill a woman, Father! Me! Can you believe it? I poisoned her food and put a dangerous snake in her kitchen and nearly dropped a piano on her, for crying out loud! Oh yeah, and I set an attack dog on her, too. Can't forget that one." All of that came out in a rush, after which the man took a few much-needed breaths. Father Mooney was too stunned to say anything at all. The stranger continued, "Lucky for me, she survived all of it. But I was supposed to keep trying to kill her. I wasn't supposed to give up. I did, though—give up, I mean. I don't want to kill anyone. I don't even know her!"
"What do you mean, you were supposed to keep trying? According to whom?"
"The person who hired me. I was paid 100 grand to try to kill this woman. This actress. I still have the money, but I don't want it, Father. Can I give it to the church?"
Mooney sat there, his heart pounding, his head spinning. This had certainly shaped up to be an interesting evening.
