“Nauseous and embarrassed.” “I take it you remembered our run-in last night.” Daphne adjusted herself to sit cross-legged as she balanced a si...ple white mug in her lap. “Coffee?” She asked. A moment of silence deliberation passed before Mallory unveiled her sickly face to the fresh air. She rolled to her side before accepting the mug and pursing her lips over the steaming liquid. “Thank you.” She muttered in a low, sheepish voice. “I made a fool of myself last night.” “No, you didn’t.” Daphne’s. He felt a sense of foreboding. Something about his superior's disquiet was contagious, disturbing. He had no clue to the possible cause, but since the grotesque death of Father Bernard, everyone in the church structure was nervous, unsettled.If only we had dealt with that corrupt bastard as he deserved, early on, he thought to himself. Such thoughts could never be uttered, he knew. He should have been retired, quietly sent away.Monsignor Arturo Vitelli was a suspicious man. He took nothing at. More

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