You Won't Know How ... Or When: Father Frank Mystery Series

By James R. Callan

On the first day of Father Frank's vacation, a man says to him, "I'm gonna kill you."

 

When the threat of violence covers another person, Father Frank knows something must be done. But because the threat came via the confessional, he can't tell the police. He can't even tell the other person who is in jeopardy. Father Frank is on his own.

 

To make matters worse, this happens in Magnolia Bluff, a place Father Frank has just come to visit. He doesn't know the people; doesn't know the town; and he certainly doesn't have a clue who is issuing the threat.

 

The attacks start quickly. His vacation hasn't started well, but if he can't stop this man from killing, it will end suddenly – and much worse.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pennant Publishing
• Release date: Jul 22, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201139568

James R. Callan

After a successful career in mathematics and computer science, receiving grants from the National Science Foundation and NASA, and being listed in Who’s Who in Computer Science and Two Thousand Notable Americans, James R. Callan turned to his first love—writing.  He has had four non-fiction books published.  He now concentrates on his favorite genre, mystery/suspense/thriller. His fourteenth book releases in February, 2021. In addition, he speaks at conferences and gives workshops on various writing topics such as character development, dialog, audiobooks, plotting, and the mystery/suspense/thriller genre. He and his wife split their time between homes in northeast Texas and Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. They have four grown children and six grandchildren.

Book preview

Chapter 1

SATURDAY 

I ’m gonna kill you .

Father Frank’s mouth dropped open. How do you respond to someone who says that? He doesn’t sound like he’s kidding. Father Frank knew he should reply, but no words came to him. He sounds like he means it.

Before his shocked mind presented him with some comment, the man continued. I’m gonna eliminate you from this earth.

Father Frank remained speechless. Several thoughts swirled in his mind: ...Why would you do that? What did I do to anger you? Killing someone is against the law; The police will track you down and put you in jail; God is watching you.

But the shock of hearing someone say that in person proved to be too much. It shut down his normal thought process. No words came out his mouth.

His day plunged downhill.

HIS DAY HAD STARTED out much better. He was taking his first vacation in four years and was visiting the Texas Hill Country for the first time ever. Sitting west of Austin and north of San Antonio, its granite hills were more pronounced than the rolling hills around his home base in northeast Texas.

When he’d arrived that afternoon, a little bleary-eyed from the drive, he dropped his bag on the porch, rang the doorbell and surveyed the house as he waited. It was a little larger than his rectory in Pine Tree, but appeared to be older. The church, on the other hand, looked smaller than Prince of Peace, his church back in northeast Texas.

The town of Magnolia Bluff, at least the part he had driven through, lived up to its reputation—beautiful. And true to the publicity of the Hill Country, the wild flowers were stunning and profuse. He smiled. But we have taller trees.

The door opened. You’re really here.

Father Frank reached out and grabbed his friend’s hand. Glad to be here, Lee.

Come in, come in. Father Lee backed up and gestured him in.

Father Frank picked up his duffel bag and followed Father Lee into the house.

Ten minutes later, the two sat in the living room relating much of what had happened since they left the seminary five years ago, ordained as priests in the Catholic Church. Father Frank, after a couple of short stints as an assistant at two large churches, now served as the pastor of Prince of Peace church in Pine Tree. Father Lee had spent his first four years as an assistant at Our Lady of Guadalupe Church in Fort Worth, before being assigned as pastor of Christ the King Church in Magnolia Bluff.

I hope this isn’t too much of an imposition, Lee. This is my first vacation since I was ordained and I’ve always wanted to visit the Hill Country. It’s amazing. I’ve lived in Texas all of my thirty-three years but have never been to the Hill Country. My father spent some time here – at least a couple of months – after he retired. He gave the area high praise, particularly the Enchanted Rock and the Cascade Caverns. With you here, it seemed like a good time to venture down.

No imposition at all. Been too long since we got together. Can I get you somethin’ to drink?

Wouldn’t happen to have a Dr Pepper, would you?

Ha. I knew you were comin’ so naturally I’ve got Dr Peppers. He hopped up. Keep your seat and I’ll be right back.

Father Frank looked around the small but neatly furnished living room. A small TV, couch, two easy chairs and a square coffee table. No LazyBoy. He laughed to himself. How can I get inspired here?

Father Lee returned with a Dr Pepper for Father Frank and iced tea for himself. First let me apologize for your bedroom. It’s small. And worse yet, you have to go through the kitchen and the livin’ room to get to the bathroom. Hope you don’t get up too often during the night.

No need to apologize. At Prince of Peace, the rectory has only one bedroom. So, when my sister comes to visit, I give her the bedroom and I sleep in my office. But she cooks great meals when she’s there. So, I consider it a bargain.

Boy, I’d love to have my sister come visit and cook. But that hasn’t happened yet. In fact, she’s in the hospital right now.

Hospital? I hope it’s not something serious.

It was, but she’s okay now. Which brings me to a favor I need to ask of you. If you’re willin’, it would be a tremendous help to me.

Not sure how I can help, but just name it.

Father Lee took a drink of his tea, then leaned toward his guest. She’s gettin’ out of the hospital today – in Austin. It’d be great if I could go help her.

Not a problem. I’ll just explore this beautiful town while you’re gone.

Ah, there’s a little more to it than that. I always hear confessions on Saturdays. Could you cover for me tonight?

Father Frank was already nodding. Consider it done.

Father Lee sat back a little, relaxed his hands and released the breath he had been holding. Thank you. Usually aren’t too many. But I don’t like to cancel. If they feel the need, I hate to let ‘em down.

Not a problem.

I really, really appreciate it. I don’t want Jeannie to get home to an empty house and spend her first night totally alone. Her husband’s in the Air Force, stationed in the Middle East. If it’s all right with you, I’ll stay the night and be back in the morning, in time for Sunday Mass.

I could cover Mass tomorrow. Father Frank grinned. It would just be a very short sermon.

No. No. I’ll be back in time. Austin’s just an hour away. I just don’t want her to go back to an empty house.

Anything I need to know for tonight?

Naw. Pretty standard.

What time?

Seven to eight. Nothin’ unusual. He paused for a second. Have you had lunch, or did you just drive straight through?

Straight through. But that’s okay, I’ll find something.

No. Least I can do is take you out to lunch. What would you like? We have a good pizza place. Or the Silver Spoon, basic American fare. Good, if not inspirin’.

Anything is fine with me.

Or we do have a great barbecue place. Corral 44. A little rough around the edges, but good food.

Father Frank laughed. I can handle a little rough round the edges. Let’s have barbecue. But first, what put your sister in the hospital? Nothing serious, I hope.

Oh, very serious. But she’s okay now. I’ll give you the whole story on the way, but let’s head out for some smokin’ good barbecue.

TWO HOURS LATER, FATHER Lee had left for Austin and Father Frank had unpacked. Next he set out to explore the neighborhood. He had noticed a number of churches close by. Of course, it is named Church Street. There must be half a dozen churches huddled together in a few blocks.

Across the street, a neat sign identified a church as Presbyterian.

In the next block he found the Baptist Church. In northeast Texas, the Baptists always had the biggest church in town. But already, he could see a bigger and more impressive church presiding over the next corner. To its left a tall, freestanding bell tower reached two or three stories into the clear, periwinkle sky. A small discreet sign at the bottom read St. Luke’s Methodist Church.

The church itself presented a stained-glass window maybe fifteen feet wide and extending up probably twenty-five feet to the top of the peaked roof line.

Smaller stained-glass windows flanked it to complete the impressive facade.

He walked over for a closer look and as he stood there, a woman approached him. The petite, dark-haired woman wore a teal skirt suit, a clerical collar, a saturno hat and a smile too engaging to ignore.

Hello. She extended a hand. I’m Ember Cole, the pastor here. By the looks of you wandering about aimlessly, I suspect you’re a newcomer to Magnolia Bluff?

Of sorts, Father Frank replied, shaking her hand. You’re correct that I just arrived today.

Then let me be one of the first to welcome you to our lovely town. And if you don’t have a church here, I’d like to invite you to join us tomorrow.

I appreciate the offer, but ... my name is Father Frank DeLuca. I’m here visiting my friend Father Lee, the pastor at Christ the King Catholic Church.

Ember Cole shook his hand and ducked her chin just a little. Now I’m embarrassed. She raised her twinkling eyes to look Father Frank in the face. "But you are out of uniform."

They both laughed. I’m on vacation. No preaching this week. No Roman collar. He almost added, and no hearing confessions, but remembered that wasn’t true. So since I’m on vacation, just call me Frank. What a beautiful church you have. I had to come get a better look.

Would you like to see inside?

I would love to.

They walked across the manicured lawn and up a few stairs and entered the church.

From the outside, the windows were impressive, but offered only a basic grey to black coloring. But from the inside, with the bright daylight shining through, they were magnificent. The edges covered the spectrum of blues and greens. But moving toward the center, these irregular shapes gradually transformed into oranges and yellows, becoming lighter and brighter, ending in a brilliant white center piece.

Wow. This is even more beautiful inside than outside, said the priest.

Thank you. We believe setting the proper atmosphere can help people get ready for the beauty of God and good deeds.

Father Frank smiled and nodded his head. I like that. Can I use that sometimes? I’ll credit you as the originator.

Ember gave a little laugh. I don’t know if I made that up and or just remember hearing someone else say it. Probably the latter. But use it as often as you’d like. And no credit is needed.

Father Frank knelt and said a silent prayer, and then rose and started toward the door.

Outside, he turned to Reverend Cole. Thank you for allowing me to visit your beautiful church. I‘m sorry I can’t hear you preach tomorrow, but it would be rude of me not to hear Father Lee’s sermon. Perhaps another time?

I’d be flattered.

AT 6:45 THAT EVENING, Father Frank put down the book he was reading. Better put on my Roman collar in case somebody sees me going into the confessional, or coming out. He left the rectory and walked over to the church, a rectangular building with a simple steeple pointing to the heavens with a Latin Cross on top. The front and two sides of the church had rectangular stained-glass windows.

Inside, a larger-than-life crucifix hung from the ceiling behind the altar. On the right side of the sanctuary a statue of Jesus Christ stood on a pedestal. A statue of the Virgin Mary graced the left side.

No one appeared to be there yet, so Father Frank entered the confessional, shut the door on his side, closed his eyes and meditated. The sacrament of reconciliation often gave him quiet time, not to mention the opportunity to meditate without a telephone ringing.

In a few minutes, he heard someone enter the other side and begin. Bless me Father, for I have sinned.

Over the next thirty minutes, several people came in, but after the initial rush, things slowed down. After a few minutes without a customer, Father Frank sat back and relaxed, to wait out the rest of the hour.

About ten minutes before eight, he heard another person enter, kneel and begin. Father, I’m about to commit a sin.

Father Frank cocked his head a little to the side. Ah, about to? Then, if you are truly sorry about it, just don’t do it.

But I have to. The sin is ... The pause stretched out. And then the man said, I’m gonna kill you.

Chapter 2

Father Frank’s head jerked up and his eyes popped open. The black curtain kept him from seeing the man, or the man seeing him. Father Frank tried to collect his thoughts. How to respond to something like that? After a moment, he said softly, I don’t understand ... why would you want to do that?

A rough laugh slithered in from the other side. Why do you think? the voice sneered. Then the laugh cut off and his voice became deadly serious. You pass yourself off as a caring priest. Oh yeah, I’ve heard it all before, about how you’re ready to minister to your flock, take care of your parishioners, whatever they need. Yeah, you’ll help ... if it’s convenient. Otherwise, you bail.

Now silence. Father Frank didn’t know what to say. The man laughed again, this time sounding more sinister. So, I’m gonna help things out. I’m gonna eliminate you from this earth. That way, no one’ll expect you to do anything – and get disappointed when you don’t. You’ll be about the same help like you are now, but since you’ll be dead, no one’ll be expecting anything.

Silence. Father cleared his throat, desperately trying to think of the right words. None were coming to him.

Here’s the best part. I’m telling you this in the confessional. So you can’t tell anybody, not even the police. He snickered. "But you’ll know about it. You’ll think about it, day and night. He laughed, a short, ugly laugh. This is even better. You know it’s gonna happen, but you don’t know how it’s gonna happen. Will it be a bullet through your brain? He paused a second. Or maybe a knife slashing your throat? It could even be a bomb."

Once more, silence. Father Frank opened his mouth, not certain what he might say, but then that laugh started again.

"No, here’s really the best part. You won’t know when. I might strike tonight. Or tomorrow. Now his voice took on the tone of being helpful. Course, if it’s tomorrow, you gotta think about it every minute between now and then. No sleep. That’s good, since I may come in the night. Maybe it’ll be Wednesday. That’ll give you lots of time to worry, look over your shoulder. Some car backfires, you’ll fall on the ground, thinking you’re dying. Someone comes up to shake your hand and you’ll shake all over, wondering if he’s got a knife."

Father Frank said, Murder is a grave—

Maybe tomorrow. Maybe in three or four days. I might let you live a week. A slight pause. Or not. A week’s too long. Start thinking about it.

Father Frank tried