A Prayer for the Devil (3 page)

LUKE STAYED AT HIS
parents’ house for the next four days. His presence seemed to help his father cope with the loss of Aaron. Luke wondered if his physical appearance was helping his dad forget the fact that his brother was gone. He worried that once they returned to their normal routines, his dad would really begin the grieving process. Over the past several days, many people who saw Luke had called him Aaron. This was not surprising, since it had happened to him his entire life, but now it took on an entirely different meaning. Aaron’s small children hadn’t yet reached the age where they could distinguish the twin brothers, making encounters with Alessa and Abel especially heartbreaking.

The longer Luke watched his parents grieve, the angrier he became. During Shiva, he heard several well-intentioned relatives say, “I would like to kill the SOB responsible for this,” or “That Muslim lady is to blame for all of this.” Luke had studied the grieving process as part of his vocation, so he understood that when the death was a homicide, many of the traditional grieving stages were bypassed as people close to the victim often focused on revenge. He was beginning to think that he was no different. As much as he tried to fight it, he felt himself
relating more to the Old Testament than to the New. For the first time since high school, he felt more like a Jew than a Christian.

With Shiva ending, there were important decisions to be made. The local police department would be ending their surveillance at Luke’s parents’ house. The press and paparazzi were waiting to pounce. There had already been several front-page articles published in the
Boston Globe
detailing the troubles between the now-famous twin brothers. The media began calling Luke the “Movie Star Priest,” based on his undeniable good looks, and reporters interviewed old girlfriends and teammates from high school and anyone else who would give them something controversial to print.

At a family meeting it was decided that everyone should temporarily move into Aaron’s house because of the excellent security the gated property offered, and because Deborah had already hired a private armed guard service to patrol the grounds. The enormity of the house would ensure that everyone still had their privacy. Luke was surprised when it became apparent that they expected him to stay with them too. Again, he felt that his physical appearance was only delaying the reality of the situation not only for his parents but for Deb and the children as well. Yet, as much as he didn’t want to move in with them, he felt that Aaron would want him there, so he reluctantly agreed to see if he would be permitted to take a leave of absence from his parish duties.

Knowing how busy most priests’ daily schedules were, Luke called ahead to arrange an appointment with his boss, Monsignor Swiger. After a few minutes on hold with the church secretary, he was surprised when told that the monsignor would meet with him in an hour. Luke showered, shaved, and dressed hurriedly in his black clerical garb.

As Luke was leaving, his father insisted that he promise to meet them at Aaron’s house for dinner. Luke said good-bye, kissed his
mother and father, and headed out the door. After several attempts, his old truck finally started and he was on his way to Saint Leonard’s parish in Boston’s North End. Pulling into the parking lot, he dialed Aaron’s cell number, listened, sighed heavily, and made his way toward the rectory office. Before he could reach the front door, he saw a reporter jump out of a car and hurry to intercept him. Luke put his head down and ignored the man’s questions. When Luke reached the rectory door, the man gave up and walked back to his parked car.

What most people didn’t understand was that running a parish was similar to running any successful business. In today’s churches, there are schedules to meet, bills to pay, and paychecks to issue. Luke understood that his request for an extended leave would place a burden on the other priests and employees of the church. Before entering the building, he hoped that God would understand if he needed to be selfish at this critical time in his life.

Luke peered around the partially opened door of the simple office. Looking up from his notes, Monsignor Swiger immediately stood and waved him inside. They met halfway, and Luke collapsed in the kind old man’s arms. “Luke, I’m so sorry for what you’ve been going through,” the monsignor murmured. Once Luke composed himself, they separated and sat at opposite ends of a small antiquated table.

“Thank you so much for taking the time to see me today,” Luke said.

Seeing Luke’s pain, the monsignor asked softly, “How’s your family?”

Luke described their difficulty in dealing with the loss of Aaron but never mentioned the inner turmoil he himself was feeling. The monsignor pulled a stack of newspapers from his desk and placed them on the table in front of Luke, pointing at them. “I’m worried about you.”

Luke didn’t have to look down to see what the headlines said. Not
knowing how to respond, he replied wearily, “With God’s help I’ll work my way through this. I just need a little time away.”

Swiger agreed to a leave of absence, though he felt compelled to gently remind Luke of his responsibilities before he left. “OK, take some time, but please remember that we are shorthanded and we need you here with us. The community needs you, the parish needs you, and I need you. Luke, you know that this life we’ve chosen is not an easy one, and God asks us to make very difficult sacrifices every day. Some of our brothers have even given their lives in the service of God. We have been given an easy path compared to others; remember this and please return as soon as possible.”

Luke thought carefully for several long seconds before answering respectfully. “I’ve also suffered while serving God. Please don’t forget that before being assigned to your parish, I spent almost four years in Johannesburg where three of my fellow priests, all close friends, were murdered in one week. One of them, Father James, died in my arms.”

“Luke, I know that you have suffered a tremendous amount for your faith, especially for a man of your young age. But there is so much more you can do. Even though your tragedy has affected all of our lives and broken our hearts, it can be used to bring people to God. Since you’ve been at our parish, attendance has risen by over thirty percent. People want to see you preach, God wants you to preach, and I want you to preach. You have done, and can continue to do, great things for God. Just promise me that you’ll pray on this and return as soon as you can.”

Standing, Luke looked at his superior and said firmly, “Believe me, I’ve already prayed on it, and I’m doing what’s best for my family. I’ll check in with you every few weeks, and I promise that I’ll return as soon as my family can accept my absence.” Luke turned and walked out the door. As he reached the lobby and began to exit, the parish
secretary yelled, “Wait, Father.” Thinking that the monsignor wanted to see him again, Luke turned impatiently, trying to think of what more he could say. She stood and handed him a small note.

“A man from an insurance company who says he was friends with your brother stopped by to see you. He asked me to give you his number and said it’s important. You might want to call him when you have a few minutes. He seemed sincere.”

Luke thanked her and put the note in his pocket. As he opened the door to leave, a horde of paparazzi ambushed him and began yelling questions while taking pictures. Lightbulbs flashed in his face, but again, Luke put his head down and quickly ran to his truck. When they blocked the front of his truck and pounded on the hood so he couldn’t leave, he rolled down his window and yelled, “Please, leave me alone.” He yanked the gearshift into reverse and quickly backed up, then violently gunned it forward, swerving to avoid hitting them. Emotionally drained, he picked up his cell phone and called his brother’s voice mail.

REALIZING THAT HE WAS
being followed, Luke quickly headed toward the sanctuary of Aaron’s mansion. Once the press saw the gates open and the private security guard wave Luke in, they knew they had no chance of getting to him, but they were content to sit in their cars on the quiet street and wait for the next opportunity. Before Luke could get out of his truck, his dad opened the front door and walked to the driveway to meet him. Again, he hugged Luke tight, saying, “Thank you for coming back.” As they walked toward the house, Luke noticed Deborah and the children waiting at the front door. Luke knew that Deb was trying, with little success, to make them understand that he wasn’t their father.

While they ate dinner, the house phone rang continuously. Deborah had stopped answering it days ago because she was sick of reliving the incident. But when her cell phone rang, she rushed to see who was calling. She answered cautiously, “Is something wrong?” Luke stood and walked over to her. She handed him the phone. He listened for a minute before saying, “I’ll meet you in the driveway.”

He walked out the front door and saw a tall, heavyset, imposing figure heading toward him. As he approached, Luke extended his hand. “Luke Miller. Nice to meet you, Detective.”

Shaking his hand firmly, Robert Romo said, “I wish we were meeting under different circumstances, Father Miller.”

Luke forced a smile. “Me too.”

“I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s been several days since the tragedy and we really need to ask you and your family some questions.”

Looking him directly in the eyes, Luke responded sharply. “Not here. You can talk to me and Deborah but not my parents or the children.”

“I understand, Father.” Romo handed Luke a business card. “Why don’t you come to police headquarters tomorrow morning at ten o’clock? The address is on the card. I’ll do my best to ensure that your parents and the children are left alone.”

Luke thanked him, placed the card in his wallet, and walked back into the house just as the cook was serving the main course. He sat, said grace to himself, and tried to eat his meal, but he merely pushed the food around on his plate, while eating just enough to sustain himself. After dinner, he pulled Deborah aside to let her know that they needed to talk to the detective tomorrow. She agreed to be questioned as long as Luke stayed with her, and he willingly concurred.

Luke woke to the sound of the in-ground sprinkler hitting the gutter downspout outside his window. Looking at the clock on the nightstand, he saw that it was 6:20 a.m. His surroundings were unfamiliar, not because he hadn’t been in Aaron’s house many times before, but because he wasn’t used to living such a luxurious lifestyle. The king-size bed was twice as big as anything he had ever slept in. The private bath attached to his room was larger than his entire bedroom at the rectory. The fireplace, ornate columns, coffered ceiling, hardwood floors, and Persian rugs would have impressed most people, but for Luke, they just added to the discomfort of an already uncomfortable situation.

Trying to relieve some stress, Luke quietly made his way toward the gym in the basement. As he passed Deborah’s bedroom, he looked
through the half-open door and noticed Alessa and Abel in bed with her. Continuing down the long hallway to the stairway and into the workout area, he thought about the time he and Aaron had spent together in high school. They were both outstanding athletes. Luke was the pitcher on the baseball team and Aaron was the catcher. Both all-stars, they were highly recruited by colleges during their senior year. Luke turned down a full-ride scholarship to UMass, while Aaron attended Boston College and went on to law school at Harvard. During construction of the Newton mansion, Luke and Aaron would often meet at the property to discuss progress with the architectural teams, but what they looked forward to most was playing catch in the expansive yard. It was during one of these meetings that they decided to build the gym.