mention a few of them from time to time. Let’s see.” Her eyes slid closed for a moment. “There was a Juan, I remember that name. And Jonas, he mentioned him a few times. Mostly I remember him speaking of a Johnny. If I’m not mistaken, Johnny went fishing with him on one of his lake trips about ten years ago.” She smiled faintly. “The only reason I remember that is because it was the trip Patrick caught that huge trout. We have a picture of him with it somewhere around here. He knew a picture was all he was going to get, because there won’t be any stuffed fish mounted and hanging anywhere in my house.”
Nate smiled easily. “Understandable. Do you happen to have that picture handy? I’m not much of a fisherman, but I’d sure like to see it.”
The mention of pictures had her face losing its animation as memory intruded. She swallowed hard. “I’m not sure. It sat right there on that table”—she pointed at an end table next to the recliner—“for years and years. I don’t recall when it was put away or whether Patrick did it or I did.” Her eyes filled with tears and she blinked them away rapidly. “At any rate I can look. Tell the kids to be on the watch for it as they go through the photos.”
“I appreciate that.” He caught the slight gesture Risa was making and rose. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Christiansen. I want you to know the department is putting a lot of man hours into finding the person who did this.”
“I heard there was a task force.” She stood, too, and her gaze was searching. “How long, do you think? I mean, I realize you can’t predict, but . . .”
“We’ve got a lot of people on this investigation. I’ll personally let you know as soon as we have a suspect. And keep us abreast of the memorial arrangements. I’m certain a lot of officers are going to want to pay their respects.”
She didn’t seem capable of speech then, but she gave a jerky nod and saw them to the door.
As they walked down the drive, he noted that the tiny lawn was just as immaculately kept as the neat white ranchstyle home had been.
Risa spoke first. “Okay, total coincidence, right?”
“The fact that she mentioned a Johnny?” They reached the car parked at the curb and both paused at the driver’s door. “And there’s a Johnny on the final segment of tape left at the crime scene?”
There was a flare of excitement in those odd-colored amber eyes. “Of course it might cease to be coincidence if that tape was left there for a reason.”
It wasn’t difficult to follow her line of thought because he was thinking the same thing. “You mean if we were meant to find it.”
She nodded, moved to round the car to her door. “Makes me really interested to see if anyone else is pictured in Christiansen’s fish photo.”
Jonas knelt before the statue of the Virgin Mary, kissed the rosary beads, and bowed his head. Weeks like these, when he worked second shift, allowed him to go to daily mass. But he took comfort in the time he had to pray in the solitude of his own home, as well.
He had more to pray for than ever.
The guilt that had eaten at him for over twenty years was a constant weight that lived inside him. A writhing fanged beast, it would lie dormant for days or even weeks at a time. And then spring forth in all its fury, teeth and claws flaying him alive from the inside.
It was the penance he deserved for living in a state of mortal sin.
He wept freely, the rosary clutched so tightly in his hands that it cut into his flesh. He didn’t pray for forgiveness. Jonas knew it was much too late for that. He didn’t pray for guidance. He’d never had the courage to follow through on the instructions he’d received from the confessional all those years ago.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever find that courage.
His eyes squeezed together tightly, and his shoulders shook with emotion.
The Holy Mother looked kindly down at him, her arms spread in a gesture of compassion. A compassion he knew he didn’t deserve.
In the end, all he could do was pray for the strength to follow through on the plan he’d set in motion. It might not make things right. But it’d end things.