PART 16: FATHER DONNELLY’S LAST CONFESSION
Nobody in the church moved.
The words hung in the air.
“The real secret was never inside it.”
Linda looked at Father Michael.
“Get the car.”
“I’m taking Mrs. Ellis to St. Anne’s.”
“I’ll come too,” Paula said.
“So will I,” Colleen added.
Janice stepped forward.
“No.”
Every eye turned toward her.
“If Richard is watching, he’ll expect all of us to leave together.”
Linda nodded.
“She’s right.”
“The rest of us stay here.”
“We keep him guessing.”
Ten minutes later, Paula and I were following Linda through the doors of St. Anne’s Retirement Home.
A nurse was already waiting.
“You must be Mrs. Ellis.”
“Father Donnelly has been asking for you.”
“Is he all right?”
She hesitated.
“He’s very tired.”
“But he’s refused to sleep.”
“He said…”
“‘Not until Maggie comes.’”
My throat tightened.
She led us down a quiet hallway.
At the last room, she stopped.
“He asked to speak with you alone.”
I looked at Paula.
“I’ll be right outside,” she whispered.
I stepped inside.
The room smelled faintly of old books and peppermint tea.
Father Michael Donnelly looked impossibly small beneath the white blankets.
His hands were thin.
His breathing was shallow.
But the moment he saw me…
He smiled.
“Maggie.”
No one had called me that in years.
I sat beside him and took his hand.
“It’s me.”
“I know.”
“I’ve been waiting.”
His eyes drifted toward the window.
“I promised Harold.”
A tear slipped down my cheek.
“I know.”
“No…”
He squeezed my fingers with surprising strength.
“You don’t.”
“He never donated the Bible.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“It never stayed at the church.”
“But everyone thought—”
“That’s what Harold wanted.”
I felt my heart pounding.
“The Bible was only the package.”
“What was inside?”
He smiled.
“Nothing.”
For a moment, I simply stared at him.
“Nothing?”
“He emptied it himself.”
“Then why all the secrecy?”
“Because Richard would never stop searching for it.”
Father Donnelly closed his eyes for a moment before continuing.
“Every rumor…”
“Every hiding place…”
“The workshop.”
“The clock.”
“The Bible.”
“They were all meant to keep Richard looking backward…”
“…while the truth moved forward.”
A chill ran through me.
“So where is it?”
He slowly reached beneath his pillow.
My breath caught.
He pulled out a small cloth pouch tied with faded blue string.
“I’ve carried this for twenty-eight years.”
He placed it in my hands.
It weighed almost nothing.
“What is it?”
“Open it.”
With trembling fingers, I untied the string.
Inside was not a key.
Not money.
Not jewelry.
Just a tiny brass safety-deposit box key.
Attached to it was a faded paper tag.
FIRST COUNTY BANK
Box 314
My pulse quickened.
“There was a bank box?”
Father Donnelly nodded.
“Harold rented it two weeks before he died.”
“Why didn’t anyone know?”
“Because he rented it under a trust.”
“What trust?”
He whispered four words.
The Blue Oak Trust.
I had never heard those words before.
Then he looked directly into my eyes.
“Maggie…”
“Richard never found it.”
Relief washed over me.
Until Father Donnelly added one more sentence.
“But someone else did.”
Every muscle in my body went rigid.
“What do you mean?”
“The bank called me.”
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
“What did they say?”
“They said someone came asking about Box 314.”
My hands tightened around the tiny key.
“Who?”
Father Donnelly’s eyes filled with regret.
“I don’t know.”
“They refused to tell me.”
He took one slow breath.
“But they did tell me one thing.”
“What?”
“The person…”
“…already had a key.”
The room seemed to spin.
There were two keys.
Harold had given one to Father Donnelly.
Which meant…
Someone else had the other.
Just then, someone pounded on the bedroom door.
Linda rushed inside, breathing hard.
“Marguerite!”
“What happened?”
She looked from me to the tiny brass key in my hand.
Then she said the words I had been dreading.
“The sheriff just called.”
“Richard Vaughn’s vehicle…”
“…has been found abandoned.”
I frowned.
“Isn’t that good?”
Linda slowly shook her head.
“No.”
“They checked the registration.”
“It was never Richard Vaughn’s car.”
Silence.
Then she finished.
“It belongs…”
“…to Dale.”
