Man Who Loved God Read Free Page A

Unforeseen, unexpected, and disastrous things came about when the U.S. Postal Service was involved. An envelope could be misdelivered, or opened by the wrong person—a wife, say.
    No, it would have to be a note, hand-delivered by her at tonight’s party.
    To celebrate the opening of the new, perilously located branch, Tom Adams was hosting a dinner party tonight in his posh riverfront apartment. Invited were his three executive vice presidents and their spouses. Also invited were Mr. and Mrs. Al Ulrich and Nancy Groggins and husband. Either Nancy or Al was to become manager of the controversial new branch of Adams Bank.
    Her plan to deliver the message by hand invested new import in the party. Till now, Barbara couldn’t have cared less about the gathering. She assumed the party’s purpose was to be a final sifting of the two contestants, Al and Nancy—sort of an audition to see how they handled themselves in the spotlight. It would never have occurred to her that Tom Adams might merely want to honor a couple of faithful—even courageous—employees. A statement as it were that their willingness to give of themselves was noted and appreciated.
    In actuality, this indeed was the purpose of the party.
    Hitherto it had made no difference to Barbara which applicant was chosen. Now the realization dawned that, yes, there was an element of jeopardy here. What if Al got the job? What if he were harmed? It was a charged neighborhood, fraught with peril.
    What if he were killed?
    She shuddered.
    But … it would go a long way toward solving her problem.
    She wondered idly if such a thing could be … arranged.
    She dismissed the thought. One thing at a time.
    There was tonight’s party with its newly invested importance. And how to deliver a message to four people among a total of one host and ten guests, with no one being the wiser.
    A challenge, no doubt about it. But Barbara thrived on challenges, risk, and living on the edge.
    She took from her writing table four sheets of unmarked stationery. Each note would be identical. There would be no addressee, nor any signature. Just a precaution. Each prospective father would know the message came from her; she would make certain of that.
    The message would be brief and to the point.
    She was in the very earliest stage of pregnancy. The addressee was the father. She was not interested in marriage to the father of her only child, nor in an abortion. But something would have to be worked out. And soon. Oh, and because of the relationship—or lack of it—between Barbara and her husband, as Barbara had explained at the beginning of their affair, Al would know for certain that he was not the baby’s father. Something would have to be done about Al.
    That should do it.
    Now for this evening’s ensemble. She would be at her seductive best.’
    Damn the wives. Full speed ahead!

Three
    Father Robert Koesler could scarcely believe it. He was going on vacation! It had been several years since he had last indulged himself in what he now looked on as a luxury.
    Two considerations contributed to this view. Clearly, one was the priest shortage.
    At the start of his forty-three years as a priest, few parishes had only one priest to serve them. Thus when vacation time rolled around, it was simply a matter of filling in, of taking on a few more responsibilities, offering an additional Mass on a weekend. Besides, there were lots of religious order priests, teachers not assigned to a parish, who could fill in.
    All that had changed drastically. Not only were one-priest parishes quite common now, parishes were being closed or “clustered.”
    Granted, it was still possible for priests to carve out some leisure time. It worked if parishioners made do with no-Mass Communion services conducted by a deacon, a nun, or a lay volunteer.
    Indeed, Koesler had heard of a recent incident in a suburban Detroit parish. It was the 11 A.M. Sunday Mass with a nearly overflow congregation. The priest didn’t