The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3) by Brian Shea (most read books in the world of all time .txt) 📗

"True, but they're still cops. She's a cop. A good cop at that."

"I know, Dad. You told me the stories. I get it. But I also know you, and I can see plainly that there is a little more to this visit than you're letting on. You're trying to be cool about it. And guess what? It's not working."

Kelly pushed the squeaky cart forward, fighting to keep it straight as they moved down the aisle.

"Does it bother you?" he asked.

"What?" Embry smirked.

She was going to make him say the words. "If it was a date? If she was more than a coworker? Would it bother you?"

Kelly had wanted to ask this question of his daughter since he first broached the idea of having Barnes over for Thanksgiving.

It had been well over a year since the relationship between Embry's mother and Kelly had dissolved completely. And although she had moved on, he, for all intents and purposes, had not. He hadn't dated, and he had never brought a woman home with him, never introduced a new potential prospect to his daughter. This would be a first for him. He was entering uncharted territory and he was worried—actually terrified—how his soon-to-be nine-year-old would take the news.

She seemed fine with her mother's boyfriend, so it was reasonable to assume Embry would accept it when Kelly found someone else and be open-minded to it. But now that it was upon him, he was worried maybe it was too soon. Maybe she wasn't ready.

The two had always been close as far as fathers and daughters went. With the circumstances of their relationship, and Kelly being a single parent, he was closer to her now than ever before. He feared introducing a new woman into his daughter's life would have negative consequences, damaging the bond formed.

"I'm happy for you, Dad. You’ve seemed so lonely since you and Mom split. And I like the idea of you dating now.”

Kelly leaned down and kissed her forehead. She smiled and tucked a loose curl of auburn hair behind her ear.

“Hey, and if she's as cool as you say she is, then I'm sure to like her."

And just like that, the burden was lifted from Kelly's shoulders. The worry of the past couple months, the trepidation that his decision was a selfish one, evaporated. His daughter had given him her blessing, and with that, he suddenly felt more comfortable with the idea of moving forward with his relationship. Kelly also had a newfound respect for his young daughter and the wisdom she possessed at such an early age. Sometimes life and its circumstances taught children lessons that would be better learned later.

But Kelly couldn't change the past. He couldn't mend the damage done in those dark times after his partner's death and the fallout it had on his family. What he could do, what he had been doing since the dissolution of his marriage, was to put his energy into his daughter and the relationship they had, balancing work against life as a single dad. Something that took some adjustment, especially after being assigned to Boston PD’s illustrious Homicide unit and the endless sea of cases crossing his desk. Suffice it to say, looking at his daughter now, they'd both adjusted well enough to the circumstances. Their bond and relationship were stronger now than ever before.

"Tell you what, Dad, I'll try a Brussels sprout if you let me sit next to Kristen when she comes for dessert."

Kelly felt his cheeks reddening. "Of course. You win. A Brussels sprout for a ticket to sit next to the guest of honor seems like a fair trade."

She giggled. It was an excited, infectious giggle, and he was beginning to hear it often. Embry seemed to have thoroughly bounced back from the initial fallout of her parents' divorce.

Kelly shook off the cold from the vegetable refrigeration unit as they pushed the noisy cart toward the Stop & Shop’s meat and dairy section.

"Well, it sounds like this Thanksgiving is going to shape up to be just perfect," Kelly said.

"Except for the Brussels sprouts," Embry muttered under her breath.

Just then Kelly felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket and stopped the cart. He pulled it out to see a familiar number and answered on the second ring.

"Hey, Donny, what's going on in the world of God?"

The response came in the form of ragged breaths. Donny sounded as if he was running, and at first Kelly thought maybe his childhood-friend-turned-Catholic-priest was out for a jog. Keeping himself fit was something that he did on top of taking care of the parishioners he served. Perhaps Donny had butt-dialed him, and he was just catching the rubbings of his phone against his arm or pocket.

"Donny, are you there?" Kelly asked, louder now.

"Hey, Mike, I really need to talk to you. Something awful has happened."

Kelly stopped, giving his full attention to his friend, a man who prided himself on remaining calm. The priest had heard and seen horrible things in his time serving the Dorchester community and always managed to keep a level head. To hear the panic in his voice concerned Kelly immensely.

"Donny, what is it?"

Another ragged breath and a sigh. "It's Father Tomlin. He’s dead. Somebody's killed him, Mike…here at Saint Peter’s!"

Kelly paused for a second, considering his friend’s words. "Somebody killed a priest inside your church? When?"

"Shot him. I just found him dead in the confessional. Gunshot to his head. They shot him through the confessional, Mike. Who does that? Who murders a priest, let alone murders him inside a confessional inside of God's house? Who does such a thing?"

The ragged breathing changed into a whimper as his friend cried softly through the receiver.

"I'll be there as quick as I can. I just got to drop off Embry and then I'm heading your way. You already called the police, right?"

"I called you first."

"Donny, hang up and dial 911. The cops need to be there right