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“Yeah, probably working as a bank teller or an insurance broker or a trash collector,” said Brutus. “It’s always the ones you least expect it from.”

“Okay, this is it,” said Odelia, who clearly felt it was time for action. “Let’s go!”

Chapter 34

Father Reilly had been lighting a few candles in his church, and was just staring down at his nice tile floor, wondering how many layers of dog dung had been stamped into it, and whether he should contract a deep cleaning service, when Victor Ball walked in.

“Oh, hi, Victor,” he said. “What a nice surprise. What brings you here?”

Victor glanced around a little uncertainly, his mustache quivering gently.

“Um… you told me to join your meeting, so…” He spread his arms and gave a sheepish little grin. “Here I am.”

“I also told you the meeting is Monday nights at eight, and what day is today, Victor?”

If he disliked being treated like a five-year-old, Victor didn’t show it. Instead, he thought hard. “Um… Thursday?”

“Come back on Monday, and you’ll find a group of the warmest, most inviting people you could ever hope to meet.”

But Victor didn’t budge. Instead, he just stood there, now tugging at his mustache as if hoping it would give him strength.

Father Reilly, who was a patient man, and a people person, saw that here was a person in need, and so he walked over and put a hand on the man’s shoulder. “I can see there’s something on your mind, Victor. Out with it. Come on.”

When the man still appeared hesitant, the priest said,“Would you feel more comfortable if we take this into the confession booth?”

“I would, yes,” said Victor finally, and with a sweeping gesture, Father Reilly led this troubled soul into the small booth.

The moment they were both comfortably seated, Father Reilly opened the hatch, and said,“What is it, Victor? You know you can unburden your soul with only the Lord as your witness, and that nothing you say goes beyond this confessional.”

“Yes, father,” said Victor dutifully.

“How long has it been since your last confession?”

“Too long, father.”

“Well, then. No time like the present. What’s preying on your mind, son?”

“The thing is, Father, I’m at a quandary.”

Father Reilly, surprised that Victor would be familiar with such a big word, hid his astonishment well. All he said was,“Oh?”

“I had an offer that’s too good to refuse, father, but Alice told me to say no, so I did say no, but then I said yes, and now I don’t know what to tell Alice.”

“And what offer would that be?” asked the priest, pretty sure it involved the services of some wanton woman at one of the bars in town Victor liked to frequent.

“It’s the Mayor, see. He’s offered to buy my property, and he’s offered a fine price for it, too. But Alice says over her dead body will she ever sell the house where generations of Balls have been raised. She told me to tell the Mayor to go to hell, and so I did tell him to go to hell, andhe didn’t take it well.”

“Mayor Dunham wants to buy your property? What does he intend to do with it?”

He couldn’t imagine what Mayor Dunham would want with a dilapidated old farmhouse and the surrounding bit of barren land located in the middle of the woods.

“I don’t know, father, but Giles down the road got the same offer, and he’s also refusing to sell, and I heard there are more farmers told to sell up. Some of them did, some of them didn’t.”

“Huh,” said the priest. “And so what’s your quandary, son? You feel bad about telling the Mayor to go to hell, is that it?”

He would tell the Mayor to go to hell in a heartbeat. He didn’t like his bullying ways, and he certainly didn’t like that he was trying to get his good friend Chief Alec to take early retirement.

“No, father. It’s just that… The Mayor then upped his offer, complimenting me on driving such a hard bargain, and the second time I actually told him I’d accept, and so he already paid me an advance. In cash. And I’m pretty sure Alice is going to be pretty mad.”

“I think you owe it to Alice to tell her the truth, Victor.”

“But the thing is, father, that Alice is very fond of her rolling pin. She likes to use it on my head, and I have a feeling if I tell her I sold the house she’s going to do a lot more than beat the living shit out of me. She’s going to go berserk and use my head like a drum. She loves that house, even more than I do, and was real adamant about not selling.”

“So what made you go behind her back?”

“It was a big fat advance the Mayor gave me, father.”

“So maybe you can give it back? Explain to the Mayor how you changed your mind. No contracts were signed, right? This was merely a verbal agreement?”

“See, the thing is—I more or less spent the money, father. So there’s nothing to give back.”

“Oh, dear.”

“It’s a quandary, father,” said Victor. “A genuine quandary.”

“It certainly is,” he agreed. “How much did the Mayor give you?”

“Ten thousand dollars.”