It's Hard To Be Holy

EP 89: The Author (Cont'd)

Coarse and Offensive Language. Reader Discretion Advised.

'One more night,' she told the dark cottage bedroom, rolling to her side and punching her pillow into a more comfortable position. She was glad this trip was almost over, and however much she might fear Ms. Blanchet's wrath at the story she had failed to procure, she would be glad to be back in civilization. She missed her nephew. She missed her routine. She even missed her parents. In the few times they had spoken, all sounded well and happy!

Why can't they be this happy when I'm home?! Why is it when I'm away, everything is fine?!

Stupid phrase! She had heard it at least a thousand times since her introduction to her subject.

'It doesn't matter,' Alan Carr would tell her. 'Everything is fine!'

But what would I rather? she had to reason with herself. To be 3,000 miles from home and for everything not to be fine? What could be done then?

No, I wouldn't want that. I'd just like to be missed...

And the Author closed her eyes, attempting a few low, calming breathes as she willed sleep to—

But he asked for the interview! He broke his own rule...tradition...whatever you call it! 

Why?!

Maybe he forget about his rules?

That was the most likely.

Or maybe it's all a game to him?

God, I hope not. That would be such a waste of time.

And praying that she had not been sent to the other side of the country on a wild goose chase, the Author drifted—

If a priest was murdered in his rectory...there has to be a record of that!

Probably, but nothing I can do about it now—

But that means I can find the record. Some paper, some coverage. You don't shoot a priest and not cover it. I can work with that.

If he's not making it up...

Why would he make something like that up? That's easy enough to check. No, I don't think he's lying. A priest died. Murdered. Shot...by his friend...yeah, that's good. Not for the priest, for me.

And the Author smiled into her pillow. All was not lost! She might be able to stitch some story together after all. And finally sleep—

But what the hell am I going to do with just a murder? He didn't kill the priest...what does this have to do with Alan C—

Or maybe he did?

Yes! Oh, yes! That's what he's trying to confess! Yes, that has to be. Not his friend...him! Jesus Christ...Jesus...Alan Carr killed a priest, and he's confessing to me. I'll get book deals. TV interviews. Robert Durst, nothing! I'd be...I'd...

Shit.

I'll be ruined. I'll be the author that destroyed Alan Carr's image. Everyone will hate me!

You get paid more than you're making now.

And a Pulitzer. Definitely a Pulitzer!

Maybe a Pulitzer...

But why? Why would he kill a priest? Why would he confess that me?

Guilt?

Maybe.