Chapter Forty-Five

Margo Angelhart

As soon as I had Jennifer secure and confident that Logan would fill my mom in on the situation, I rushed over to St. Dominic's.

It was late, after eight, and I knocked on the door. The young priest, Father Eduardo Diaz who I knew fairly well from spending time here, answered the door.

"You didn't ask who it was," I said.

He pointed to the security hole in the door. "I'm glad you're here, Margo. Rafe was very concerned about your safety."

I didn't want to remind him that I knew how to take care of myself. Instead, I walked over to where Rafe was sitting in the small living room. The only sign that he was concerned was a cocktail glass half-filled with golden liquid on the table next to him. Rafe was known to partake in a shot of Reposado tequila on occasion when relaxing...or worried.

"Uncle Rafe, what happened?"

"I told you on the phone. He came here, tried to intimidate me, I told him I would call the police, and he left."

Father Diaz cleared his throat, and Rafe shot him a narrowed glare.

"What did you leave out?" I asked.

"He didn't leave until Ed walked in, but he didn't make any move toward me. He believes I know where his wife is, and that I should tell him. I told him I couldn't help him and I wasn't comfortable with his presence."

Leave it to Uncle Rafe to get out of a difficult situation without actually lying.

"The man had a threatening presence," Father Diaz said.

"Did he outright threaten either of you?" I asked.

"No," Rafe said. "He was angry and he was demanding, but he didn't verbally threaten me."

I latched onto the word verbally.

"But?" I asked. "Do not lie to me, what did he do?"

"He was wearing his uniform and he made a point of putting his hand on his gun—I believe to intimidate me."

I barely refrained from swearing. It was a threat, clear as day, and my uncle was giving Peter Carillo far too much grace.

"I'll stay here tonight—"

"No," Rafe said before I could finish my sentence. "I don't need anyone to watch over me. We will keep the house locked and be mindful of any visitors. I will not live in fear."

"Did Jack leave?"

I had called Jack as soon as Rafe called me, which was only an hour ago. I was angry that Rafe waited hours to tell me what happened, but he hadn't wanted to worry me. It was Father Diaz who convinced him to let me know.

I asked Jack to check on things, but I didn't give him any details, other than someone had come to the church and acted in a threatening manner.

"He's walking around, making sure everything is secure," Father Diaz said.

Then Rafe said, "Carillo knows you helped Annie leave him."

I knew that, but I hadn't told Rafe. I hadn't wanted to worry him.

"You don't seem surprised."

"I'm not." Lie of omission, maybe, but I didn't want to put any of this weight on Rafe.

There was a knock at the door and before Father Diaz could get up, I motioned him to sit and walked over, looked out the peephole.

Jack.

I opened the door.

"Hey, thanks for coming, but I got it from here."

Jack ignored me and walked in. "Uncle Rafe, everything is secure and I called in a favor to have Phoenix PD increase patrols in the neighborhood."

"They do not need to do that."

"An unknown man came in and threatened you, and you don't know if he'll return." Jack stared at Rafe. "You know who he is."

"Yes. His wife left him and he believes I know where she is."

Jack glanced at me, his face unreadable. Then he turned to Rafe. "And Margo is aware of the situation?"

"Yes, she is."

"Care to tell me the whole story?"

"I think Margo needs to tell you," Rafe said. "I have early mass tomorrow, so I need to retreat to my room. We will make sure the house is secure, and be on alert for any trouble."

"I don't trust that Margo will tell me the truth," Jack said through clenched teeth.

"She will," Rafe said. He got up, walked over to where Jack and I stood uncomfortably next to each other. He put his hand on my arm, looked me in the eye. "It's not weak to ask for help." He kissed my cheek, then kissed Jack, and walked to the back of the house.

"I'll make sure he's okay," Father Diaz said. "For what it's worth, Margo, you did the right thing. Don't let this trouble deter you from your path."

He walked us to the door. Talking with Father Diaz always made me a little uncomfortable. I'd known Rafe my entire life, he was my uncle and ten years older than me. Every other priest I'd had was gray or bald. But Father Diaz was the first priest I knew well who was younger than me, by two years.

"Call me if you see him, even if he doesn't set foot on the grounds."

"I will, Rafe will."

"And if he threatens you in any way, call the police."

He nodded, and I made sure I heard the deadbolt slide closed.

"What's going on?" Jack demanded.

I headed toward my Jeep and Jack followed. "Margo, don't you dare walk away from me. Are you in trouble?"

"No," I said. "Come to my house, I'll explain everything."

Fifteen minutes later, we were sitting in my living room. Jack had noticed the security cameras immediately, but didn't comment. In fact, he didn't say anything, waiting for me to talk. He'd been angry earlier, true, but Jack was usually even-tempered, and he was doing his best to remain so now.

"Three months ago, Rafe met a woman after Sunday mass. He'd never seen her before. She stayed after—her young children had fallen asleep in the pew, and she was silently crying. He went to her, and she told him her husband was abusive and she was scared. He told her to go to the police, and that he would help her and the kids get into a shelter that night. She said she couldn't go to the police because her husband was in law enforcement."

Jack's face fell. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph," he muttered. I almost smiled. That proclamation was the closest our dad had ever gotten to swearing. Jack reminded me so much of our dad. Not so much physically—Jack was a bit darker, taller, broader—but personality. Having him here was surprisingly comforting.

"She made Rafe promise not to go to the police, didn't tell him her name, just that her grandparents had been parishioners and she came here to pray for guidance. Rafe gave her my card, told her to call me. He told me that night what he'd done, and I waited. It took her a week to call. Her name is Annie Carillo, her husband is a trooper, and he abuses her regularly."

I told my brother about the rapes, the emotional abuse, the control. The system was flawed—they could protect Annie to a certain degree, but it was a he said/she said with no proof of abuse, no physical injuries. Without that evidence, the court wouldn't deny Peter Carillo visitation rights if she left him, and Annie feared that he would come after her someday, when she least expected it.

"I believed her. More, I believed he would kill her for divorcing him. She needed to disappear, and I made it happen."

Jack didn't say anything for a long time. So long that I started to get angry. "What would you have done? Told her to go to court, get a restraining order? A restraining order is paper. It's a deterrent for someone who hasn't yet gotten violent. It's no deterrent to a man who told his wife he would kill her if she ever left him."

"I don't know what I would have done," Jack said. "Is she safe?"

"Yes. I don't know where she is, or what her new name is." Okay, the second part was a lie. But I would absolutely swear in a court of law if I was forced to that I didn't, that I gave her a sealed envelope with the documents. In fact, depending on how I worded it, it wouldn't be a lie—because I did give her a sealed envelope.

"I need a beer," he muttered and got up. He went to my refrigerator, opened it. "You have no food."

"I've been busy."

He grabbed a light beer for himself, a dark beer for me. I took it, though I didn't really want it.

He drained half the beer and said, "Okay, how did Peter Carillo find out you helped his wife?"

"I don't know exactly, but he ran my plates."

"He ran your plates?"

"So I'm thinking he went through his neighbor's cameras. I talked to Rick about it, he confirmed that Carillo ran my plates, and there's a missing persons report about Annie and her kids. She left a note and there are no signs of foul play. My guess is his next step is family court. He can claim abandonment or that she's denying him access to his children. But it's a civil matter, not criminal, and that puts it lower on the priority list."

"He knows that," Jack said. "Which is why he went to Rafe."

I didn't want to tell Jack everything. I'd kept it from Rick and from Rafe, but now that Carillo went to the church, I needed help.

"Peter Carillo is a tightly wound abusive husband who is also a cop," I said. "That he threatened Rafe—maybe not explicitly, but implied—tells me he's losing his control, and I don't know what he'll do."

"Is that why you got the security cameras?"

"I got the security cameras because Carillo broke into my house."

"What the fuck?"

Now I knew Jack was truly angry.

"Why didn't you call the police?"

"Because I can't prove it. He didn't take anything. He didn't leave a note. He unscrewed the handle on my sliding glass door and put it back on. The only reason I knew that someone was in here was because some things had been moved on my desk, the door handle was loose, and the deadbolt wasn't engaged. So I bought security cameras and installed them."

"When?"

"Monday night. I noticed when I got back from our dinner."

"And you didn't tell me?"

"What could you do?"

"Protect you."

"I don't need your protection, and Carillo isn't coming back. There's no information about Annie here. If he does, I'll be ready for him."

"You told Rick?"

"No."

"But—"

"I told Rick that I helped Annie, but I didn't tell him that her husband broke in. Rick can be a loose cannon, and I couldn't risk him doing something foolish and ruin his career. Or worse."

Jack didn't say anything; he knew about Rick's childhood, just like I did.

"Rick is working the law enforcement angle, calling a few people to see what we can learn about Carillo's behavior on the job. He probably called Otto."

"Good," Jack said.

"And," I continued, "he will get what he can get. I'm being careful. I don't know how he figured out Rafe helped Annie, but the man isn't stupid. He could have logged every place Annie went. She only went to the church once, but once is enough."

Jack stared at me so long I almost squirmed. Then he said, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"There was no need to."

"I'm your brother."

"I'm an adult. I mean," I said quickly as I realized that was a childish thing to say, "I've been working on my own for a long time. I was working through this, I've had cases like this before, and I didn't want to worry anyone needlessly."

"I care about you, Margo. There's no doubt in my mind that you can handle any situation that is thrown your way, but as Rafe said, asking for help doesn't make you weak."

"I know," I said, and he was right. "And I would have if things got out of hand."

"Breaking into your house means things are way out of hand," Jack said.

He wasn't wrong.

Jack continued. "We're working together this week—I thought we did well together."

"We did, but that doesn't change anything. Annie is my case. My responsibility. I'm telling you now because, yeah, you need to know—he went after Rafe."

Jack didn't say anything.

"So," I said, feeling a bit uncomfortable, "do you have any ideas that I haven't thought of? How to take Peter Carillo off the board?"

He shook his head. "It was just a matter of time before he found out you helped his wife. He'll always be a threat to you. You know it, I know it."

"Unless," I said carefully, "we can make him lose it."

"No."

How did Jack know what I was thinking?

"In a situation where we have the control."

"I'm not putting you out as bait, and there's no way he's going to bite."

I disagreed with my brother. "Going to a church and confronting a priest is the first sign that he's unraveling. It'll continue. We may not have to do anything and he'll fall apart and do something stupid. I'd rather he do something stupid that I can control, instead of where innocent people might get hurt."

Jack didn't say anything for a long minute. Then, "Let's see what Rick has learned and then maybe we'll come up with an idea that doesn't include tying you to train tracks."

I laughed; I couldn't help it. Jack smiled.

"We do work well together, Margo," he said. "I want you to join us. We're family."

"Jack—"

"Don't say no. Not yet."

So I didn't say no.