The Priest (The Original Sinners #9) - Tiffany Reisz Page 0,102

device.

Then Cyrus typed and printed out a timeline of events, beginning with the trip to Grand Isle in June, the engagement party in July, and coming up on today, finding the keys in the mailbox.

He sat at the kitchen chair and looked one by one by one by one at the items on the table. Then he closed his eyes and began to breathe deliberately. Breathe in for four—one, two, three, four—hold it for three at the top—one, two, three—breathe out for four and hold it for three at the bottom.

One.

Two.

Three.

Cyrus did this again and again, until he’d breathed himself so deep into his mind that he couldn’t see or feel his own body anymore.

But he didn’t need his body, just his brain. His brain and the river that ran wild through it.

When he opened his inner eye, he was already in the river.

This had never happened before. Always he’d come to the river, waded in, found what he needed to find there. Now he was knee-deep in the river.

And the water was rising.

Already it had risen from his knees to his waist. He had to get out before it was up to his neck. He started forward and found he couldn’t get out. Something had him around the ankle. He lifted his foot. A chain was wrapped around his leg, a chain padlocked shut.

Okay, so he needed the key. They had a key. They’d found the key.

He patted around his pockets. There, in the breast pocket of his suit.

He took the key out of his pocket again and opened his hand. The key turned into a butterfly and flew away.

Cyrus opened his eyes.

He collapsed back in his kitchen chair, breathing hard. Didn’t take a psychologist to tell him what he’d seen deep in his own mind—fear. Fear this case was going to kill him if he didn’t unlock the secret like they’d unlocked the padlock.

Unlocked the padlock.

They had unlocked it. They found the key and unlocked it. Cyrus stared at the chastity device. The padlock, open, was still on it. Why? Because Nora had said the lock held the two pieces together.

Cyrus removed the lock and let the two pieces of the device fall apart. Curious, he studied the two parts in his hand—the cage, as Nora called it, and the ring.

He saw something.

At first, Cyrus thought it might just be some kind of maker’s mark, like the kind he’d seen on the bottom of old silver plates and other antiques. But it wasn’t that. He narrowed his eyes. Two letters were engraved inside the device, followed by three numbers.

MT 529

And underneath…there was a tiny butterfly.

Cyrus wasn’t nearly as religious as Paulina, but he knew a Bible verse when he saw it.

Matthew 5:29.

His heart raced with excitement. Something told him this was the thing. This was it. This would break the case.

Cyrus called Nora. She picked up on the first ring.

“It’s engraved,” Cyrus said before she could even get out a quick “hello.”

“What? What is?”

“The cock thing. The chastity thing. It’s got a butterfly and a Bible verse engraved on the inside. Couldn’t see it when the lock was on but it fell apart and I saw it. Matthew 5:29. I haven’t looked it up yet but—”

“S?ren,” Nora said. He must have been with her. “Matthew 5:29.”

Cyrus held his breath. His lungs nearly burst while he waited.

“Okay,” Nora said. She repeated after S?ren: “If your right eye causes you to sin, tear it out and throw it away. It is better for you to lose one of your members than for your whole body to be thrown into hell.”

“S?ren’s got that memorized?”

“Are you surprised?”

He wasn’t. “What do you think it means?”

“That you should do anything you can to avoid sinning, including amputation.”

“Not the verse,” Cyrus said. “That he’s got it engraved inside his chastity thing. Why would he do that?”

“It was actually engraved in there? Like how?”

“I don’t know. Like you engrave anything.”

“Not written in Sharpie or scratched in with a knife?”

“No, I said engraved, and I mean engraved. Fancy letters made by a pro. Why?”

She went silent. Then, “Give me one minute.”

Silence again. Cyrus pressed the phone to his ear as hard as he could. He held his breath and heard the low, low murmur of voices. Sounded like Nora was asking S?ren something else.

Then the phone crackled.

“We need to go to the Ritz-Carlton.”

“What’s there?”

“Kingsley’s there. He’s not answering his phone, which probably means he’s eating dinner. He hates it when people talk on phones during meals. But