Briiiing. Briiiing.

"Saint Michael's Cathedral, Father Ryan speaking." As the old priest spoke, Snowball barked in the background.

"George? Thank goodness you're there." Hannah's voice and breaths were both heavy. "I—I just got home. Is Cassandra over there with you?"

"Yes." Father Ryan spoke slowly. "She came over this afternoon."

His sister let out a relieved sigh. "Good, good. I don't know what happened, there were men—the neighbors reported they saw men in electrician's trucks pull into the driveway and saw her struggling. I don't know what's going on—"

Snowball continued to bark and snarl. Father Ryan said, "Cassandra must have gotten away from them, but she hasn't been able to tell me any specifics? That's horrible. What on earth did they want?"

"I don't know." Hannah sounded as if she was on the verge of tears. "The rest of the kids are all freaked out, I don't know what we're going to do—"

"Stay in a hotel tonight if you don't feel safe. I'll help cut the check if you need it."

The line went quiet for a few seconds before Hannah let out one more last, long breath. "I'm sorry, I'm sure you're busy. If Cassandra's safe out there, that's what we care about most." She paused for a few seconds, but when the dog howled again, she asked, "What has Snowball all worked up?"

"New dog food, I think," Father Ryan said. "Sorry about that."

"All right, well… I'll call back if we're staying somewhere else."

"Just don't come around here, there's still a crime scene feel to it all," the priest said.

"I won't… thank you, George. I love you, tell Cassandra that for me too."

"I will, Hannah, you're in my prayers. I love you too."

Father Ryan slowly, gingerly set the phone down and glared across his desk, hands in the air. "Are you satisfied?"

There came a laugh. "You did well. Very well." The speaker's voice was gravelly. "Those old plays back in high school are still with you, it looks like."

Seated across from the monsignor, with a gun in his hand, was another chubby, older man. Though his brown hair had only just started to gray, and he wore a forest-green frock, even a quick glance suggested the two were brothers.

"I could have had one of my men tap her on the shoulder and tell her everything was fine while she was taking the children to see Santa Claus. Do you think she would have liked that?"

Through grit teeth, Father Ryan just said, "Joel…"

"It'd be a shame to miss her before I left town, but I don't think she'd be so glad to see me." Joel Ryan settled further back into his chair, his line of fire never moved.

"And you just intend to keep me here for the rest of the night?" George's glare darted back and forth between his brother's eyes and the weapon in his hand.

"When we're out of town and my men confirm the police won't pursue us, we'll leave you all be," Joel said. "We'll clean up after ourselves, every single bit of gold and silver in that basement, and then we'll set everything back the way it was up here. Your parishioners will never even know we were here."

"… And Cassandra?"

The smile that Joel flashed bore his teeth. "Actually, I got a very appealing offer for her."