The Silent Shooter

Three-1

Three

AS WE WALK BACK TO the car, hand in hand for all the world—well, at least the Archbishop if he is looking out his window—to see, my mind wanders back to the other two times that we have strolled up this walk. The first time was just before Ash Wednesday, when the world was buried in the cold and decay of winter. The second time was just after Easter, when we could see the first signs of spring as flowers put forth buds and daffodils began to burst forth through the now-warmed soil. Now May is here, and the earth and air are becoming warmer. Everything is in full bloom as spring begins to give way to summer.

As we get in the car for the long drive back to Myerton, I say to Helen, “You know, you really are one woman in a million.”

Looking confused, she replies, “How so?”

“Only one woman in a million would sacrifice control of her own wedding to a male-dominated bureaucracy, even one that does represent Christ on earth.”

“Or,” she says with a smile, “maybe a woman who wants to marry the man she loves would see that she is joining his world as much as he is joining hers, and would be willing to make any sacrifice necessary to be with him.”

I smile but she continues, “Tom, I meant what I said. I am marrying the Church, but you are marrying the Myerton Police Department, and that also comes with certain limitations, especially while I am Acting Chief.”

“I know that, of course. It would be the same even if you were still Chief Detective.”

“No, I don’t think you’re hearing me, Tom,” she says. “You’re not going to be able to tag along on investigations like you used to, at least not as much. And I’m going to make decisions you won’t agree with, and I can’t let that influence me.”

“You mean like when you decided to send Gladys into Richard Davenport’s with a wire to get him to confess to murder?”

“Yes, just like that. Tom, I love you. I’m so thankful you’re going to be my husband,” Helen says, “but you can’t have a say in decisions I make for the police department, any more than I can about decisions you make for Saint Clare’s.”

“Fair enough,” I say, nodding. I’m really wondering why we’re even having this conversation, and want to change the subject back to us and our plans. I ask, “So, what do you want to do tomorrow?”

“I’m going to the Hagerstown Outlet Mall to try to find something decent to wear on Sunday. You can do what you like.”

“Fortunately, I cleared my schedule for tomorrow in the hopes of spending it with you. If that means going dress shopping, I say, let’s go dress shopping.”

Helen leans over and kisses me on the cheek. “I was hoping you’d say that. We’re going to have so much fun!”

***