Chapter 19

CHAPTER 19

THOMAS

I had been waiting for this for so long, to find a single crack in Mary Quinn’s perfectly executed control, that my body buzzed with excitement. I hadn’t felt like this since I was a small boy waiting to run downstairs on Christmas morning.

After my sweet angel had given me the information that I needed and I rewarded her handsomely for it, everything seemed to snap so perfectly into place. All that was left was to see if I was skilled enough to pull this off.

Promptly at three p.m., Mary Quinn waltzed through the front doors of the church, dressed in a Chanel suit, her Birkin bag hanging off her arm, the glint of her key ring shining where it poked out of the side from under the unlocked flap. I plastered a fake smile on my lips and tried not to roll my eyes as she walked across the marble, her heels clacking with every single step.

“Where is everyone?” she said, barely looking at me.

“I’m sorry. I thought you were aware. The location of the meeting for this week has been changed, the board is meeting at an afternoon tea restaurant downtown. Something about testing their food to see if it was a possibility for catering?”

Mary Quinn rolled her eyes and huffed like it was a massive inconvenience.

“Well, I’m going to have to talk to the ladies and find out who made this change without having the common courtesy to make sure everyone was informed. Who would even have the audacity to change a meeting so last minute? As if we would ever let a simple downtown tea house cater the event. It lacks common sense and basic taste.”

Hitting your daughter, scratching her face, and leaving massive welts on her hand lacked common sense and basic taste, and also required a considerable amount of audacity. Still, I bit my tongue and let my anger swell. The temptation to lash out at her was almost overwhelming. The only thing that stayed my tongue and my fist was knowing what I was about to do to her was going to be far more damaging.

“Since I have you, can I get your opinion on a few of the decor options that have been chosen? Some ladies have brought donations, and I’m not sure they are up to the standards that we would like to hold the Christmas bazaar to. After all, this is going to be the event of the season for the church. I would be honored to have your opinion,” I said, the smile still plastered to my face even though my stomach twisted with rage just looking at this woman.

“Well, since I’m here, I suppose I could look. Do you have a list of who donated what?”

Naturally she was going to take this as an opportunity to shame anyone who donated something that wasn’t up to her standards. That was the bait that I had intended on using to begin with. I didn’t expect her to jump at it so quickly.

“Of course,” I said as I moved to the reception desk to grab the clipboard. “Why don’t I take your coat and your purse, and you can take this and start making your notes?”

“That is acceptable.”

Her words were polite enough, but she practically threw her bag and her coat at me while ripping the clipboard from my fingers. I placed her coat and bag behind the reception desk and led her to the side room that the other volunteers were using to store decorations.

Immediately she started making notes on the clipboard and tsking about the poor quality of some donations and how clearly they weren’t heirlooms like people had said they were, but had been dug up at some charity shop.

It was amazing to watch people who were hell-bent on bringing down others. Half the time, when they opened their mouths, the accusations they spouted against other people were actually confessions of their own misdeeds.

“I am so sorry, Mrs. Astrid, I have to leave you here for just a moment. One of the altar?—”

“Yes, yes, go,” she interrupted me. “Hurry back. I should have the list by the time you return.”

Quickly, I backed out of the room and tried not to skip as I went back to the reception desk to grab her purse.

It took less than a second to have her key ring in my hands and locate the security deposit box key. The key ring actually had a little paper disc on it saying where the security box was, and the number.

She was so sure of herself that she didn’t take basic security measures. Then had the nerve to talk about the audacity of other people. Her hypocrisy knew no bounds.

I slid the key off the ring, memorizing the bank’s name and the box number before sliding the key into my pocket and replacing the key ring in her purse and sliding it back under the reception desk.

When I returned to Mary Quinn, she was going through the last box, tsking at what she saw.

“Well, everything from those three boxes against the wall will do. The rest of this is simply atrocious. I will talk to the families who donated about their lack of generosity, and then I will have my maids dig through our storage to see what we can find.”

“Your kindness, as always, is quite impressive, Mrs. Astrid,” I said. This time, my smile was completely genuine.

“Yes, well, if that’s all, I’m afraid I have to run all the way across town to get to this meeting. Clearly, these women are lost without me.”

“Please, don’t let me keep you.” I guided her out of the room and back to the front of the church to retrieve her coat and purse which she snatched out of my hand and didn’t even look at before heading toward the door, her heels still clacking against the floor as if announcing her departure.

The key burned a hole in my pocket. I wanted to go use it to destroy this woman immediately. Patience was a virtue, I reminded myself as I walked back to the rectory, trying to temper my excitement. After all, I didn’t know what was in the box. It could be nothing of value to me.

There were still other facets of my plan that had to go off without a hitch, just in case this wasn’t the smoking gun I needed.

I headed into one of the spare meeting rooms where the board meeting was actually taking place.

“I’m so sorry ladies, I do not know what is keeping Mrs. Astrid. You would think someone so high on the board would be sure to be on time for meetings.”

I watched a few of the women roll their eyes, and the others just looked annoyed.

“I’m so sorry if I am speaking out of turn, but is this usual behavior for Mrs. Astrid?”

“No,” a woman wearing a Dior dress and far too much perfume said. “But as of late, her attention seems to be… elsewhere.”

“Probably trying to repair her damaged reputation,” a woman with garish lipstick sneered.

“Ladies, I’m sure we could do without the gossip,” I admonished, and each one of them looked a little guilty. “But, if I may speak candidly.”

“Please do,” the woman with too much perfume said.

“Well, I hate to spread gossip, so I trust each of you to leave what is said in the room here…” I hedged, as if I was unsure whether what I was going to say should be said at all.

Every single lady swore up and down they would keep my thoughts in confidence as they all leaned forward, desperate to hear what I was going to say.

Just like that, I knew I had them. Every one of them was eating out of the palm of my hand, practically purring for a tiny morsel of information they could use against Mary Quinn.

“I am worried that Mrs. Astrid has been…” I paused for dramatic effect and looked around, each woman hanging off every word I said. This was almost too easy. “I’m worried that her focus has strayed from a righteous path. I have tried many times to speak with her, and she seems disinterested in correcting her ways. I was over at her house not too long ago to speak to her regarding the loss of a young man who was tragically killed on her property in the Hamptons.”

Immediately, the women mumbled to each other, and I raised my hands to silence them.

“The young man in question died in an accident. It was tragic, but nobody’s fault. When I went to console her, and to pray with her, asking the Lord to accept his soul into his embrace, Mrs. Astrid refused and laughed at the notion. She said that animals do not have souls.”

The women all gasped, though I had no idea why. I knew most of them treated the help like dogs, anyway.

“The way she spoke about this young man was crossing over the line into blaspheming. She refused to admit that someone she saw beneath her could even be considered a person worthy of compassion and kindness, even in their death. When I went to visit her, it was around nine a.m., and Mrs. Astrid was just finishing her breakfast. I believe she had already indulged in a fair amount of alcohol. I could smell it on her breath, and it was the only reasonable explanation I could come up with as to why she was so belligerent.”

“Oh my,” Garish Lipstick said. “That is simply unacceptable.”

I bowed my head with my eyes closed as if it were a sad but true fact, while I pressed my lips together to stop my smile. The mask of indifference I wore slid over my features and allowed me to better control my reaction. If there was a single crack, these women would see it.

“Do we think she needs an intervention?” a woman wearing a tacky orange sweaterdress asked.

“I’m afraid an intervention may not help. Interventions are for people who can be persuaded to get help. They are for people who just need their friends and family to reach out to let them know that they have support. Mrs. Astrid, I’m afraid, may be at a point where she is beyond salvation. I believe deep in my heart that she can be saved, but she has to do the work.”

“Maybe it’s stress,” Too Much Perfume suggested. “She is on so many boards, and with the recent scandals with her children, maybe that is what’s driven her to drink?”

I didn’t like the way this woman was thinking. Before I could think of an appropriate response, Garish Lipstick spoke up.

“No, I don’t think this has anything to do with her children. I think her children are another symptom of her illness. Not the cause of it.”

“What do you mean?” I asked. This woman wanted Mary Quinn gone. All I needed to do was give her a little shove.

“Well, I don’t want to speak out of turn?—”

“This is a safe space,” I said a little too quickly. “Anything you say in this room will remain here. We’re not here to judge Mrs. Astrid, but to discuss the situation because we care about her and are concerned.”

She looked at me for a moment, as if considering my motives. Then she nodded and turned back to the group.

“I wasn’t going to say anything, because it is simply none of my business, but my maid has been friends with some of the staff at Mary Quinn’s home, and she heard… I really shouldn’t say this.”

Immediately, the other women were encouraging her, holding her hand as if this was something difficult for her.

“We all know that she was unfaithful to her husband and had an affair many years ago. Harrison is the result of that affair,” she said, and the others around her nodded. “Well, Harrison’s father isn’t the only affair Mary Quinn has had. There have been several others, and the age appropriateness of more than a few of them has come into question.”

“She likes older men? Surely she doesn’t need a sugar daddy?” Orange Dress said, wrinkling her nose.

“No, younger. Much younger, so young that if it were to come to light, police involvement could be an issue.”

Everyone around her gasped, and I clutched the cross on my chest as if I were shocked by the revelation.

“There’s even some question about her partner's consent. There are many rumors saying that blackmail and extortion were involved on her part.”

“Oh my,” several women gasped.

I made the sign of the cross.

“I am afraid that this information makes me realize exactly how far Mrs. Astrid has strayed. Although it is the duty of the church to lead her back to the light, and I will make sure that we reach out with whatever resources we have to guide her, I’m worried that her involvement on this board might be?—”

“Her involvement on this board is unacceptable,” Too Much Perfume said, practically spitting the words. “I am not saying that I am without sin, but I believe that there should be a certain standard held by members of a church board, and sexual depravity is well below the standards that we need to set.”

Every one of the dozen women in the room nodded.

“We are community leaders. How are we to lead the community into the light of God when one of us has displayed such disregard for human life and such willful disregard for the deadly sins?” another at the other end of the table said.

Garish Lipstick stood up and leaned over on the table, placing her hands flat on the surface as she stared down at each and every woman. She was going for a power play.

“I move that Mary Quinn Astrid be removed from this board until she can refocus her life toward a godly path.”

“Seconded,” someone said.

“All in favor?” Garish Lipstick called.

Every single hand went straight up in the air.

“All opposed?”

That question was met with silence.

“Okay, so be it. Mary Quinn Astrid has been removed from this board, effective immediately.”

“I will have the bishop reach out to her directly to see what we can do to help guide her back to the right path,” I said, my head bowed low, as if in respect. “My only concern is when her actions come to light, as they always do, that they will bring down the other charitable boards that she is a member of. I think we all have seen it time and time again when the actions of a single board member end up overshadowing everything else a charity is doing. I am just so grateful that will not happen here.”

“Yes, Father, I believe we are all very grateful. I thank you for bringing your concerns to the board so we could find the best solution. We will need to inform the other boards as well. It’s the only charitable thing to do,” Garish Lipstick said before turning back to the rest of the room.

She ran her hands down her suit, taking Mary Quinn’s place as the de facto leader.

“I think this is giving everyone a lot to think about. Why don’t we have a quick fifteen-minute break, and then we’ll start this meeting.”

Murmurs of agreement went up around the room as every woman got out their cell phone and started typing away. No doubt text messages to other women who were members of other boards, all of them working hard to oust Mary Quinn.

Just like that, she was no longer a powerful member of this community. With one simple little meeting, where I only had to plant the seed of doubt, her social standing was gone.

Now it was time for the next phase of Mary Quinn’s downfall.