“April showers bring May flowers, at least, that’s what my partner used to tell me. If only I knew at the time what he meant.”
The young priest urged the FBI agent on the other side of the screen to continue. Whether or not there was sin, the older man needed to unburden himself.
______________________________________________________________________
Agents Jackson and White did not relish the assignment, but the bureau did not give options. A week in close quarters made Jackson start fantasizing about pistol whipping his long time partner. Tasked with discrediting a religious extremist out of Harlow the two hacked the preacher’s accounts.
That was all normal and good. They were field agents devoted to high tech operations. Also normal, but not good, was Agent White’s perversion. Jackson knew too many men stepped out on their wives. He wouldn’t hold that against his partner. White was also a deviant. Every mistress he found fell between the ages of fifteen and almost eighteen.
Jackson should report the violations. He couldn’t though. Officers at any lever were a brotherhood. To turn his back on that was unthinkable.
“Look at this one buddy!”
Jackson was up for any good news. “Is Templeton trying to find us again?”
“What? Oh, no. He’s gone dark. It’s this girl. DirtyNico16. She has a filthy mind for a teenager.”
Jackson sighed and looked over his partner’s shoulder. How did he always get drawn into White’s games? He might have to consider that not reporting his partner wasn’t loyalty but some sick, voyeuristic need.
“I think you’re on the wrong trail this time. That picture looks at least five years old.”
“I might make an exception for this one.”
“Why don’t you go meet her and let me do some work then?”
“She won’t meet. The little bitch is a tease. Getting me all worked up then turning shy on me. It’s driving me crazy. I might have to find some other girl to take it out on.”
“Why don’t you do that?”
“You sure? Okay buddy, you man the ship. I’m off to the hunt.”
Why had Jackson encouraged his partner?
Screams from upstairs greeted Jackson when he got home. A normal man might freeze but Jackson was an agent. Limbering his gun he sprinted up the stairs to his daughter’s room.
“May! I’m coming!”
What he saw when he burst through the door sickened him. He wasn’t sure if his daughter was a willing participant or not. He did know a man protected his family.
_________________________________________________________________
Father O’Reilly felt the agent’s horror. What to say? He knew about the preacher, Templeton. There were rumblings in the religious community about this nut and his prophecy. What can you do? The priest thought, Protestants always espoused lunacy.
He was about to impart this wisdom to the agent. He never got the chance. Just before Jackson placed his service weapon to his temple and painted the inside of the confessional with blood, thunder, and the smell of sulfur he uttered last words that chilled the priest.
“And that, father, is why I had to murder my partner.”
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