A Prayer for the Devil (4 page)

This was no ordinary gym; it rivaled any college gymnasium. The footprint of the house was tremendous, and the gym encompassed the entire lower level, with a full wall of glass doors that opened to the backyard. Looking around the room, Luke was touched to see that Aaron hadn’t removed any of the baseball pictures or newspaper articles from their high school days. Aaron had surprised Luke by having many of their action shots blown up to full size and then covering the walls with them after construction.

As Luke walked around the immense area examining each photo, he realized that his anger toward the people who had killed his brother was getting more intense with every passing day. He thought about many of the funerals he had presided over and his distant words of advice that were intended to comfort the grieving families and make them feel better, while now understanding that at the time he had no idea what those people were feeling. He now knew exactly what they were feeling, and he had never imagined it would be this hard. Thinking back to his days in Africa, he wondered why the inner rage
he felt now was so different. He had experienced murder up close and personal in Johannesburg, and it felt terrible, but not like this. Maybe the fact that Aaron was identical to him in almost every way meant that the murderers not only killed his brother, but they killed a piece of Luke also. Even in the pictures, it was difficult for Luke to tell the two of them apart. If it wasn’t for a small, almost unnoticeable scar on Luke’s chin, only God would know the difference.

Luke sat down on the shoulder press machine and started the circuit-training routine that he and Aaron had done so many times together. He worked hard and fast, finishing in about half the time it normally took to do this workout. Drenched in sweat, he moved on to one of six treadmills and began running at a seven-minute-mile pace. He was in great shape from a physical standpoint, but emotionally he was a wreck. No matter what he did, Aaron’s murder was on his mind. Looking around the gym, the full-length pictures that he once loved had now become a constant reminder of his brother’s death. Every time Luke looked in the mirror, he saw Aaron. His nights continued to be filled with nightmares of death, anger, and revenge.

After running three miles, he decided to move on to the heavy bag, feeling that this would be a better outlet for the suppressed rage he was feeling. The punching bag was strategically fastened to a steel beam underneath the garage floor, making it virtually soundless to the people upstairs. Starting slowly, he hit the canvas and waited, then hit it again. The more he thought about his brother, the harder and faster his punches became. After several minutes, he was grunting loudly while hitting it with both hands as fast as he could. Seeing something move in the mirror’s reflection, he turned his head quickly and noticed Abel standing on the last step, watching him. Luke stopped abruptly and quickly draped a towel over his wet shirt while walking over to pick up the fragile child. Silently, he carried the boy upstairs and into
the family room. Several minutes later, Abel was sound asleep in his arms as silent tears fell down Luke’s flushed cheeks and blood dripped from his bruised and swollen knuckles.

LUKE WALKED OUT TO
the backyard and took the piece of paper out of his pocket that the church secretary had given him. He dialed the number and asked for Jim Hathaway. After a few minutes, Jim picked up the phone. “Hi, Luke, and thank you for calling. Please accept my sincere condolences. I am, I mean, was, a business associate of your brother’s and also a friend.”

Trying to ease the awkward silence that followed, Luke replied, “Thank you, Jim. Have we ever met?”

“No, I went to law school with Aaron while you were in the seminary. About a year ago, we were reacquainted when I began working with Aaron on estate planning, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Confused, Luke asked, “From who?”

“Luke, even though you and Aaron had some disagreements, he always spoke highly of you and admired your passion and conviction. My firm specializes in financial planning, so I spent a substantial amount of time with him discussing his investments and his will. We talked for hours, and in great detail, about your family so that he could decide the best way to take care of everyone if something ever happened to him. You should know that as recently as three weeks ago, he
asked me to include a provision in his will that gave you sole custody of his children if he and Deborah both died before the kids were of legal age.”

Luke struggled to speak, as his bottom lip quivered and his eyes filled with tears. When he didn’t respond, Jim continued talking. “That’s why I asked you to call me. Aaron had taken out a separate life insurance policy for two million dollars, with you as the beneficiary.” Luke heard what the lawyer said, but it didn’t fully register. Hearing silence again, Jim kept talking. “If his death is considered an accident, or something Aaron couldn’t predict or prevent, the policy contains a double indemnity clause. This means that the payout amount could be doubled. Also, insurance payments are not subject to income tax.”

Luke didn’t respond but paced back and forth in the manicured yard. This prompted Jim to ask, “Luke, are you there?”

“Yes, I’m sorry, there’s just so much to think about.”

“I can only imagine. I wanted you to have this information as soon as possible.”

Luke stated softly, “Please, just give the money to Deborah.”

Jim hesitated. “Luke, I can assure you that Deborah and the children will never have to worry about money. And there’s another policy for your parents.”

After talking for a few more minutes, Luke thanked Jim, who asked that he call to make an appointment to sign the required paperwork. He promised to apprise his parents about the other policy.

Knowing that he needed to be at police headquarters at ten o’clock, Luke headed back into the house. Deborah had already asked Luke’s parents to watch the kids while they were away. After another uneaten meal, Luke showered and shaved in preparation for the meeting. He decided that he wasn’t going to wear his clerical garb because it only seemed to attract attention. Realizing that when he rushed out
of the rectory he never stopped to collect any of his casual clothing, he searched the workout bag from his truck for something else to wear. Finding an old pair of sweatpants and an unwashed blue T-shirt, he hand-ironed the wrinkled shirt, dressed, and went into the family room to wait for Deb.

Deborah entered the room looking incredible. Her full-figured profile, dark olive complexion, and silky black hair were complemented by a beautiful tailored pantsuit. As Luke stood to greet her, he saw the surprise in her eyes as she looked him over. “I didn’t want to wear my priest stuff because it only draws attention.” She nodded, pretending that it was OK. He continued, “Maybe on the way back from police headquarters we can stop at the rectory so I can pick up some clothes.”

Deb motioned for him to follow her. Leading him into her bedroom, she opened a door at the far end of the room and said, “Luke, take anything you want.” He peered into the huge closet and was amazed. Hundreds of suits, pants, shoes, and shirts were arranged meticulously on cedar hangers and shelves. He felt like he had walked into the men’s department at an exclusive clothing store. “Deb, I’m fine, really. After the meeting we can stop by the rectory,” he said, although the rectory was the last place he wanted to be right now.

“If you’re not going to wear any of these clothes, then who else deserves to have them? Please, just think about what Aaron would want. I know this is hard to hear right now, but he loved you very much, and we often talked about the need for you two to reconcile your differences. Luke, he would want you to have his things.” Luke nodded as Deborah walked out of the room and closed the door behind her.

A few minutes later, Luke reentered the family room wearing navy blue lightweight wool slacks, a crisp white shirt with cuffed sleeves, and beautiful soft black leather shoes. Deborah looked up from the couch and did a double take. Luke realized that now he looked more
like Aaron than before. Feeling uncomfortable, he said, “Let’s just take my truck.” She shrugged, and they walked out the front door. Luke rushed ahead of her and opened the passenger door of the old truck, moving some newspapers off the seat. Deborah hesitated, then climbed in while Luke held the door. Jumping into the driver’s seat, he attempted to start the truck. After several futile tries, Luke saw Deb glance at her watch. “Luke, let’s take one of the other cars. I don’t want to be late.” He tried the ignition a few more times and then surrendered to her request.

They went back into the house and down the hallway toward the garage. She opened the door and Luke followed her inside, where four cars were parked side by side on the black-and-white tiled floor. Deb pressed a button and one of the arched doors opened. She reached up to a small metal box affixed to the wall and handed Luke a set of keys. He followed her down the steps toward a sleek black Mercedes. After opening her door, he proceeded to the driver’s side. Looking at the back of the beautiful car, he noticed the model number: CL550. He made a mental note to look it up on the Internet when he had time. As he backed out of the garage, he saw two other Mercedes and a car that looked like a Ferrari or Lamborghini. He was amazed at the amount of wealth his brother had amassed.

Even though Aaron was a well-respected lawyer with a thriving business, what most people didn’t know was that he was also a silent partner in a hedge fund. Aaron and two classmates from Harvard had developed the idea for this business while attending school. Once Aaron’s law practice became successful, he convinced several wealthy clients to invest in the startup, and the company became more successful than anyone had ever imagined.

Luke drove down the driveway and out through the security gates
to the street. Reporters jumped from their cars and attempted to take pictures, but the dark tinted side windows shielded the passengers safely inside. As Luke drove, Deborah noticed him squinting in the bright sunlight that entered through the clear windshield, the only window in the car that wasn’t tinted. Luke watched as she opened the glove box and handed him a pair of Aaron’s designer sunglasses.

When they turned into Schroeder Plaza, Luke was relieved to see a parking spot not far from the front of the old brick building. After parking the car, he pulled on the pair of Aaron’s leather gloves that were lying on the console in order to hide his swollen hands. They quickly headed into the building unnoticed. Once inside, one of the duty officers recognized them and quickly shuffled them into a conference room on the first floor. A few minutes later, Detective Romo entered. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” Looking at Deborah while extending his hand, he continued, “I’m so sorry for your loss, Mrs. Miller.” She acknowledged him by shaking his hand but said nothing. Turning to Luke, he said, “Thank you for agreeing to see me, Father.”

“Thank you for agreeing to leave my parents and the children out of this,” Luke replied.

Romo sat at the head of the table, with Luke next to him and Deborah next to Luke. The detective had a long list of prepared questions, general questions that anyone would have expected. “Did your husband have any enemies?” “Did your husband seem upset or uneasy that morning?” “Did you or your husband receive any strange phone calls over the past few weeks?” As far as Luke was concerned, he could have saved everyone a lot of time and done this over the phone. Once Romo finished with Deborah, he began questioning Luke. After he realized that the brothers hadn’t talked for more than a year, he limited
his interrogation to just a few questions. Luke assumed that the detective didn’t consider him a suspect. Forty-five minutes later, Romo thanked both of them, and they were escorted to the front door.

Before leaving, Luke and Deborah donned their sunglasses. Luke walked out first and held the door for her. As they reached the curb, he extended his hand and helped her over a large pothole in the old road. At that moment, several paparazzi pounced, yelling questions and taking pictures. Taken by surprise, Luke and Deborah paused a few seconds before realizing what was happening. Finally reacting, he took her by the arm and rushed her toward the car, while fumbling for the keys in his pocket. He opened her door, and she jumped in as he ran around the car and did the same. The reporters moved to the front, in an attempt to get more shots through the clear glass windshield. Luke started the car and tried to pull out as Deb crouched down in her seat, attempting to hide her face. As Luke inched the car forward, the paparazzi finally had to relent and move to the side as the car accelerated. To ensure he wasn’t followed, he gunned the powerful Mercedes and took several quick turns before heading back toward the house. An unusual day for a priest, he thought.