Eleventh Hour by Catherine Coulter Read Free Book Online Page A

convenience store about two blocks from the church. I called nine-one-one, told the operator what I’d seen. But I couldn’t stay, I just couldn’t. This morning I knew I had to come and talk to you, that just maybe I could help, but I really don’t think so.”
    “Why couldn’t you stay and talk to us on Sunday night?”
    “I was just too scared.”
    “Why?”
    She didn’t say a word, just shook her head.
    “Okay,” Delion said, backing off for the moment. “I want you to take a deep breath. Get a hold of yourself. Now then, I want you to tell us everything that happened Sunday night, and don’t leave out a single detail. We need everything. Can you do that?”

    She nodded, closed her eyes a moment against the fearsome pain, the terror of Father Michael Joseph’s violent death.
    Dane watched her twist the old red wool cap between her long fingers, thin and very white.
    She stared down at that woolen cap as she said, “All right, I can do this. I was sitting in one of the front pews on the far side of the church, waiting for Father Michael Joseph to finish.”
    “So you came in after the man had already gone into the confessional?” Delion asked.
    “No, I’d been speaking to Father Michael Joseph, and he wanted me to stay, to talk to him when he’d finished hearing this one confession.”
    Dane said, “Was anyone else in the church?”
    “No, it was empty, except for the two of us. It was very dark. Father Michael Joseph left me, walked to the confessional, and went inside.”
    “You saw the person come into the church?”
    “Yes, I saw him. I didn’t see him clearly, mind you, but I could see that he was slender, lots of black hair, and he had on a long Burberry coat, dark. I wasn’t really paying all that much attention. I saw him go into the confessional.”
    “Could you hear either Father Michael Joseph or the other person speaking?”
    “No, nothing. There was pure, deep silence, like you’d expect in a church at night. A good amount of time passed before I heard a popping sound. I knew instantly that it was a gun firing.”
    “How’d you know it was a gun?” Delion asked. “Most people wouldn’t automatically think gun when they heard a popping sound.”
    “I went hunting a lot with my father before he died.”
    “Okay, what next?” Dane said.
    “Just a moment later the man came out of the confessional. I think he was smiling, but I can’t be sure. He was holding a big ugly gun in his hand.”
    SIX
    She took another sip of water, trying to get herself together. She was shaking so badly she spilled some of the water on the woolen cap in her lap. She stared at it, and swallowed.
    “You okay?” Father Michael Joseph’s brother said.
    She nodded. “Yes, I think so.”
    “Do you think he saw you?” Dane asked.
    She shook her head. “I was in the shadows, down under the pew. No, he didn’t see me.”
    “Okay, when you’re ready, tell us the rest,” Delion said.
    “When I heard the gun fire, I slipped down beneath the pew. I was terrified that he’d come out, see me, and kill me. He looked around, but like I said, I’m sure he didn’t see me. I watched him unscrew a silencer off the end of the gun—he did it very quickly, like he was really proficient at it—and he slipped both the silencer and the gun into his coat pocket. Then he did something strange, and it nearly scared me to death. He pulled the gun back out of his pocket. He held it pressed to his side. I think he was whistling as he walked out of the church.
    “I didn’t move for a real long time, just couldn’t, I was just too scared that he was waiting behind the side door to see if anyone would come out, and then he’d kill me, quick and clean, just like he killed Father Michael Joseph.
    “I finally went to the confessional.” She swallowed, closed her eyes for a moment. “I looked at Father Michael Joseph’s face. His eyes were open wide and I could see that he was gone. Oh God, he had such beautiful