Body Bags & Blarney (14 page)

“We could
argue for hours about what is wrong with our country and the world, but that
isn’t what we are really here for tonight. We are here to save the most
precious resource there is. Your eternal soul.” Seamus finished. “Now, not
having an insurance policy for heaven is the scariest thing of all, isn’t it?”

Vivienne
shrugged. “You’ll have to ask them. Unlike some politicians, I don’t assume to
know what is best for everyone without doing research.”

Seamus whirled
around and pointed to the illuminated cross. “But there is someone who does
know what is best for everyone. All you need to do is lose that fear and
welcome Him into your heart.” He turned back around and pointed at Vivienne. “I
can smell the doubt about letting His infinite wisdom guide your life. I can
hear the panic in your voice as you try to argue circles around what is really
foremost on your mind tonight.” He crept closer to her, standing nearly toe to
toe. “If you unburden your soul, I can fill that void with the love and light
that our awesome God provides.” Pastor Kilpatrick reached out to her. “Won’t
you let me help you take that first step?”

“By all
means.” She clasped his free hand in hers and instantly felt the familiar jolt
as her power to slip into another person’s memory kicked in. The tent around
them began to spin and she felt light headed.

“Let your
troubles go.” Pastor Kilpatrick’s voice sounded distant and reverberated with a
distinct echo.

Vivienne took
a deep breath as the room faded to black. When her vision returned, she was
surprised to find herself on the shore of Cayuga Lake. The cold blue water was
still on a frigid winter day. The rocky shoreline was littered with fragments
of miniature ice sculptures, created when the spray of water from the waves
coated the weeds and twigs that had drifted ashore.

She could see
from the surface of the water, Pastor Kilpatrick’s noble profile. He was
staring out at the lake, lost in thought. From the position of the sun, still
rather low on the horizon, Vivienne assumed it was perhaps around eight in the
morning. It still felt strange to share a body with another individual as she
jumped into his memory. Through her various attempts, she had learned tricks to
work within the memory to gather information that was stored at the
sub-conscious level. Little details that could help her figure out just what
had really happened during the course of a crime. The more emotionally invested
the individual was, the easier she could work. However, she had very little
control over Seamus Kilpatrick’s memory. His mind was strong, his willpower
formidable. She was going to be a passive observer this time and only hoped she
would get some answers by letting the memory play out on its own.
 

“Seamus.”
Eunice Kilpatrick’s voice called out. “Have you talked to Father William yet?”

“I haven’t.”
He turned to face her.

“What are you
waiting for?” Eunice scowled. She was dressed in a tan winter coat that had a
faux-fur collar turned up high around her head which was crowned with a knitted
white hat. “I hate this miserable cold.”

“I don’t need
my sister checking up on me.” Seamus replied with a rather annoyed tone to his
voice.

“Oh, really?”
She asked him back. “Where would you be without my help in this latest venture
of yours?”

“I was making
a living with this for years without your help.” He snapped back.

“Seamus.”
Eunice chided him. “Eating microwaved frozen dinners in a studio apartment is
hardly what I would call making a living.”

“It’s not the
life I had when I was still involved with the Catholic Church, but the good Lord
has provided me with what I needed.”

Eunice shook
her head. “Hollowing out that Bible to conceal a magnet inside so that your
pacemaker would be interrupted just enough to have a simulated attack? How many
followers have you gained after your miraculous recovery from that?” She
pointed a finger in his face. “How much financial help have I given you over
the years?”

“Financial
help?” Seamus shoved his hands into the pockets of his thin jacket. “I never
asked you for a penny.”

“That’s
because I never told you.” Eunice confessed.

“What are you
talking about?”

Eunice stepped
closer to him, blocking the breeze from the lake. “I’ve sent you dozens of
donations over the years.”

“I don’t
recall seeing any donations from you.” He was quick to answer.

“That’s because
I used plain envelopes and never wrote a return address on them.” Eunice
continued. “I just tucked in a little post it note.”

 
“Keep the faith and God bless you, L.B.”

“Little
brother.” Eunice decoded for him.

“I had no idea
that’s what L.B. stood for.” He took a deep breath. “I assumed it was just some
kind benefactor who was moved by my personal crusade.”

“But, you’ve
sent me thousands of dollars over the years.” Seamus reached out and took her
hands in his. “How could you afford that on your salary at the bank?”

“I did what I
had to.” Eunice looked away from him. “There are so many horrible people who
live here and have too much.”

“You stole
money from their accounts?” He pulled his hands away.

“It wasn’t
stealing.” Eunice looked around frantically to ensure they were still alone
before answering. “I just made sure that they gave a little donation to your
cause whenever they came in to do business at the bank.”

“It’s theft.”
Seamus turned away from her.

“Let’s not
point fingers.” She reached out and grabbed him by the shoulder. “You aren’t
exactly performing miracles during those tent revivals before passing those
collection plates around.”

He spun around
to face her again. “I’m saving souls the best way I know how.”

“That’s where
you are wrong.” She corrected him. “You aren’t doing things the best way at
all.”

“What are you
talking about?”

Eunice took a
deep breath. “I know that you plant people in the audience and have your tech
workers use listening devices to eavesdrop on audience member conversations
before the show while pretending to test the equipment. Just before you go on
stage, you get all that juicy info handed to you to use however you see fit.”

“I do what I
have to.” Seamus echoed Eunice’s words. “In today’s age, you have to wow them
with something or they’ll leave.”

“Yes you do
and I’m not faulting you for it.”

“Then why am I
here today?” He asked.

“Because some
of the richest coffers in Cayuga Cove are members of Our Lady of the Lake’s
congregation.” Eunice smiled. “Father William conducts a Saturday mass at four
o’clock. If you can convince him to urge members of his congregation to support
your ministry tonight, you could pack that tent to capacity.”

“He’s not
going to do that.” Seamus argued. “Not after what I did during the meeting at
the library the other night.” He kicked at some of the stones on the shore.
“Which, may I remind you, was your idea in the first place.”

“You need to
strike a bargain with him.” Eunice replied. “Tell him that if he agrees to
throw his support behind your event, that you will agree not to picket the
Saint Patrick’s Day carnival.”

“But, what
will I tell my congregation about the sudden change of heart?”

Eunice paused
for a moment. “You tell them exactly what you agreed to. That you, personally,
will not picket the event. But, if they wish to stand up for what is right, you
will not stand in their way.”

“What kind of
protest is it without a leader?”

“It’s a test
of faith.” Eunice nodded back.

“Oh, that’s good.”
Seamus answered. “I tell them that I’ve been given a challenge to find a
spiritual leader here in Cayuga Cove. Someone who is strong enough to carry on
with the mission when my tenure at Shoreline Baptist comes to a close.”

“Well done.”
Eunice patted him on the shoulder. “Now you’re getting it.”

“I’ll work it
into part of the program tonight. Put the word out that spiritual warriors are
not born. They are forged by the fires of spiritual warfare against evil.”

“I’ll go a
step further to ensure that they are dazzled by your miracles tonight.” Eunice
offered. “I’m going to be backstage and when I see people I know in the
audience, I will share personal information with your crew that they could
never pick up just listening beforehand. Give them all the extra personal
details that only a local would be privy to.”

“Trust me on
this.” Eunice finished. “I know what you have wanted for years, the chance to
bring your ministry to millions as a televangelist. Building an empire that
people will flock to. Having your finger on the spiritual pulse of the nation,
maybe even having the President of the United States turn to you for moral
guidance? It’s all within your grasp, little brother.”

“That’s my
destiny.” Seamus replied. “I have prayed and prayed for the money to make that
happen, but I’m barely making enough to get by.”

“Did you ever
stop to think that the accident that brought you back to me wasn’t just an
accident?” Eunice asked. “That perhaps it was God’s way of putting you on the
path to becoming a televangelist?”

“Do you really
think so?”

Eunice looked
up at clouds. “I’ve never doubted that. But if you have any doubts, that’s an
obstacle that you are putting up, not God.”

“Everything in
my life has been leading up to this moment.”

“Some of the
most fervent church members in Cayuga Cove are the most morally bankrupt
sinners you’ll ever run into.” Eunice offered. “Why not use the money earned
from their wicked ways to lay the foundation for your future?”

“You just gave
me the title of tonight’s sermon, sister.” Seamus snapped his fingers. “Cayuga
Cove:
 
Historically rich but morally
bankrupt.”

“Sounds like a
winner.” Eunice folded her arms across her chest and shivered. “I’m going to go
home and grab some hot tea. You go in there and convince Father William to
participate.”

“What would I
do without you, dear sister?” He asked.

Eunice gave
him a little kiss on the cheek and smiled. “Probably be standing in line at a
soup kitchen, rather than working at one.” She hurried away.

Vivienne felt
a sense of dread building within her as Seamus turned toward Our Lady of the
Lake and walked toward the back entrance. Was she going to witness an
altercation between the two men that ultimately ended with one of them drowned
in the baptismal pool?

As Seamus
walked up the steps to the back entrance, the door suddenly opened and the
familiar figure of Father William stepped outside with a bucket of dirty water
in his right hand. “Pastor Kilpatrick, what are you doing here?”

“Hello Father
William.” Seamus answered as he climbed to the landing where Father William
stood in place. “I want to apologize in person for what happened the other
night in the library.”

Father William
dumped the filthy water over the side railing. “Well, we all can get a little
overzealous in our beliefs from time to time.” He chuckled. “There was no harm
done.”

“That’s nice
of you to say.” Seamus answered. “Actually, I wanted to do more than apologize.
Do you have a moment to talk?”

“If you don’t
mind picking up a rag and helping to polish up the woodwork around the altar as
we do it.” Father William replied. “Mother Superior and the other nuns are busy
putting up preserves in the basement, so I thought I’d use some free time to
give the sanctuary a good cleaning.”

“I’ve never
been afraid of getting my hands dirty.”

Father William
walked him into the sanctuary area where the step ladder was folded up and
leaning against the church organ. “I always have said there is nothing like
honest work to keep the soul happy.” He handed him a rag and an aerosol can of
lemon-scented wood polish. “Would you please start with the railings around the
edge of the altar?”
 

“Sure.” Seamus
sprayed a film of the polish on the top of the dark walnut railing and began to
wipe it away with the rag. “I was wondering if you and I could collaborate on
something for the spiritual good of the town.”

Father William
moved to the ladder and picked it up. He waddled over near the baptismal pool
and opened the legs. “I’m listening.” He looked up at the wooden panels on the
ceiling. “Would you just look at those cobwebs up there? I think they multiply
the more you sweep them away.”

“Honest work,
at least for spiders I suppose.” Seamus chuckled.

“Yes, all
creatures great and small are part of His creation.” Father William grabbed a
nearby broom and wrapped one of the dust rags around the end. “But I must
confess that spiders are my least favorite.”

Seamus worked
on the wooden spindles below the rail, wiping them down with the furniture polish
“But they do so much good for man, trapping nuisance insects in their webs.”