Read Online Sham Rock by Ralph McInerny - Free Book Online

Pelligrino’s odd story and his claim of responsibility for the disappearance of Timothy Quinn.
    â€œHe can’t be serious.”
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    The bequest was more ominous than the annual card. During their senior year, they had drifted apart, he and Pat, even though they continued to be roommates. There was an accusative look in Pat’s eye. It was as if he were blaming Dave because Tim had decided to disappear.
    â€œSee much of Beth?”
    â€œDo you?”
    Answer a question with a question when you don’t know what to say. Beth’s changed attitude was more difficult to take than Pat’s. It was clear that she had written finis to their going together. Did she blame him for Tim, too?
    Blurting out that he couldn’t take the money Pat left him had surprised Father Carmody, but what else could he say? Even before he read the confessional story, he had suspected that Pat was up to something. Over the years, his enigmatic messages on his Christmas card had been vaguely disturbing. Of course, they had to refer to long ago, when they had known one another, when they had been roommates at Notre Dame, when they had been close as brothers. They had dominated student drama in those days, with Pat’s spooky plays and with himself and Tim and Beth hogging the best roles. Casey and Mame had only got the crumbs. After the meeting in the Knights’ apartment, when Dave had decided to stay another day on campus, he went to Washington Hall, whose stage had been the scene of their triumphs, but the door was locked. Maybe just as well. His memory had kicked in already and didn’t need any further prods.

    He walked past the Main Building and went into Sacred Heart, thinking he might just sit there and try to figure out what Pat was up to, but an officious little fellow with silver hair accosted him and wanted to know if he would like to be shown around. A guide. It made the church seem a museum. Dave shook him off and went up the left aisle, turned toward the sacristy, and went outside again. He hadn’t even breathed an Ave.
    Breathed an Ave. He remembered Bridget singing “Danny Boy,” substituting “Davy,” a nice lugubrious song. The lover returns to the grave of his beloved, and she hears his footsteps above her. “For you will bend and whisper that you love me, and I will rest in peace until you come to me.” How hauntingly her voice had risen on those last notes. So long ago. Everything seemed so long ago.
    He went down to the Grotto again, sat for a while, but his mind was too full of too many things. Of course he knew where he was going.
    Flags flapped from Old College on the side of the building that faced the lake as Dave walked along the road. Then there was the Log Chapel. He slowed his pace, trying to feel nonchalant. Would a boulder still be there after all these years?
    It was.
    He felt drawn toward it, but he stopped himself, filled with dread. What in hell was buried there? Was anything? He beat it back to the Morris Inn, checked out, and headed for the airport. Sufficient for the day are the evils thereof. He had enough problems in the present without brooding over events of twenty years ago.
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    Casey was in shorts and a T-shirt, barefoot, hair wild as if he had been running his fingers through it. The place hadn’t changed a bit.

    â€œWhat a dump,” Dave said, but he said it with a smile.
    â€œYeah? What does your office look like?”
    â€œGood point.” His office. He didn’t want to think of his office. He could work anywhere with his computer and cell phone. Mame Childers had sent an e-mail telling him that Briggs was trying to get her to take part in a class action against him, treating it as a joke.
    The printer was rattling away, spilling out Casey’s morning stint.
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œI agreed to do some Westerns.”
    â€œWesterns! What do you know about Westerns?”
    â€œAbout as much