Alex Kava - A Necessary Evil

"I've never seen a dead person before today," Kevin was telling him, keeping close to Wendall's side and letting Corey lead the way. "Do you think somebody brought him out here and killed him? No way they could drag him in here after he was dead, right?"

Wendall didn't answer. He didn't want to stimulate the kid's imagination anymore than it already was.

"It smells really bad," Corey said over his shoulder. "Pretty soon __ " and he started sniffing the air like a bloodhound " __ you'll smell it. I thought it was garbage or something like that."

Wendall still believed the boys just had active imaginations. One thing you learned quickly was that if something died in the July heat in these wetlands, it didn't take long for it to stink to high heaven, whether it was a bird or a fox or an armadillo.

He followed them anyway, not paying much attention except to the no-see-ums attacking his arms and the back of his neck. Even after you slapped them, their carcasses stuck to your sweat. He hated the humidity this time of year, with his shirt constantly stuck to his back. He was thinking how good it'd feel when he returned to his cruiser and blasted the A/C. The sudden stink of rotted meat stopped him in his tracks.

"Right there," Corey told him, pointing to what looked to Wendall like a pile of dirty old rags.

He was still skeptical, thrusting a hand out for the boys to stay put while he stepped closer.

"What the hell?" He pulled off his sunglasses and squatted over the mess. Then he jumped up and back when the realization hit him. "Jesus Christ!" he yelled. His surprise turned briefly to embarrassment when he remembered the boys. He made himself squat again.

The flies were still buzzing around, but they were few compared to the maggots that swarmed so thick it was difficult to make out what was underneath. Wendall found a branch and poked at the writhing mass, knocking enough of them off to discover a face and a neck and a… that was weird. He prodded an area around the neck, clearing it until he was certain of what he was seeing.

He could be mistaken, but Wendall thought it looked like the corpse was wearing a white collar around his neck. A collar like a priest would wear.

Our Lady of Sorrow High School

Omaha, Nebraska

Maggie couldn't go into it with Pakula. Not right now when they were here at the school and needed to do this interview. Not when her mind was racing over emotions and memories that were colliding and fogging up her better judgment. Would Cunningham explode when she told him what she had done, what she had agreed to? Or would he simply suspect that she had agreed with Keller for the sole intention of not keeping this promise? Could he read her that well that he would see through her transparent motive of simply getting him back to the States?

"Are you sure you're still up for this?" Pakula asked again.

She insisted they continue with their morning plans and promised to give him all the details later. Then she motioned for him to lead the way.

Pakula seemed to know where they needed to go, down one hallway and past another until he pointed to a staircase. "His office is on the second floor."

She tried to focus, observing and noticing everything around them almost as if challenging herself to avoid the thought of Keller boarding a United flight in the next few hours and arriving right here in Omaha. She didn't want to start calculating how many hours, how many connections it would take. How many opportunities he would have to change his mind, to realize she wouldn't possibly honor this deal. She tried to push it all out of her mind and concentrate, instead, on this small high school with shining wooden floors and elaborate stair railings and cornices over the classroom doors.

Now she noticed that most of the classrooms appeared empty, despite Pakula telling her earlier that the summer session had begun and that was why Father Tony Gallagher insisted they come to the school. In fact, they passed only one classroom with about a dozen kids. The room's decor caught Maggie's eye _ ancient artifacts and medieval relics including a sword or two lined the shelves and walls.

Maggie glanced up at Pakula and saw that he had noticed, too. He shook his head and said, "The stuff they teach kids these days."

Father Tony Gallagher was standing outside the doorway to his office, waiting for them; he waved across the vast lobby between classrooms. Maggie couldn't help thinking he didn't look like a priest __ a perfect smile, handsome, perhaps In his late thirties, maybe forty at the most, his dark hair peppered with gray at the temples. And although he looked athletic, she noted that he was small-framed. She tried to imagine him with a baseball cap on and if he might be mistaken for a young boy.

"Father Gallagher, we appreciate your cooperation," Pakula said as the priest led them into his office. "This is Special Agent __ "

But before Pakula could get out the introduction she heard, "Maggie?"

Both she and Pakula stopped in the office doorway. Nick Morrelli rose from the easy chair in the corner.

"Maggie O'Dell, what the hell are you doing here?"

Our Lady of Sorrow High School

Omaha, Nebraska

Nick couldn't believe it. Just when things were settling down in his life and coming together… well, other than this colossal mess with Tony. Just when Nick was finally getting his life on track, in walks Maggie O'Dell. It didn't help that she looked better than ever. He tried to remember how long ago it had been since they had seen each other. All he knew at the moment was that it was long enough ago that he shouldn't have a knot in his stomach and weak knees like some high-school kid.

"Is there a problem here?" Pakula wanted to know, looking from Nick to Maggie.

"No problem," she answered as if it were true. "Nick and I worked a case about four years ago out in Platte City."

Then she turned to Tony and put out her right hand, "Father Gallagher, I'm Maggie O'Dell, with the FBI."

"Welcome to Our Lady of Sorrow High School," Tony said as he shook her hand, but he glanced over at Nick with a knowing look as if to say "so this is Maggie." And though Tony didn't say it out loud Nick could almost feel the tips of his ears start to burn.

"Four years ago in Platte City?" Pakula was scratching his shaved head as if it would help him remember. "Ah, I remember. Gillick and Howard murdering those little boys."

Yeah, that one, Nick wanted to say, but only nodded, waiting to see if Maggie would try to correct the record. She never did believe that Eddie Gillick and Ray Howard were murderers even though both men had been convicted and were serving life sentences. Maggie believed that Father Michael Keller, a handsome young priest who everyone in the community loved and adored, had chosen the boys because he thought they were being abused by their parents. She was convinced that Keller had been on a mission to save them and grant them eternal rest. It sounded as crazy now as it did then.

"Yes, that's the case, Gillick and Howard," Maggie said, her eyes meeting Nick's.

But it wasn't just the case, he wanted to tell her. There had been more between them, much more. Or at least there could have been if she had let it. But then she had made that decision all on her own without letting him have a say.

"Nick was the county sheriff at the time," Tony added.

"Really? Maybe that's where I remembered your name from," Pakula said to Nick. "I'm usually pretty good with names. That was one helluva case." Then Nick thought the detective's eyes softened a bit. For a moment, perhaps, he was seeing Nick as a fellow lawman.

"I have four girls," Pakula continued, "but it doesn't matter when it's kids. Every parent gets the jitters when something like that happens. One of my girls was about the age of those boys. She had a paper route, too. For weeks my wife and I took turns running her route with her. It was a scary time. Wasn't there a little boy who got away?"