Read Devious for Free Online

wife, he had a baby under a year old, and the lack of sleep showed in the lines on Bentz’s wide face and the flecks of gray in his hair. He still had a limp from a previous accident, but otherwise Bentz’s body was honed to that of a heavyweight boxer. Tonight Bentz wore jeans, a T-shirt, a jacket, and a dark expression, his gaze narrowed on the floor near the altar.
    As Montoya hurried along a wide aisle, he saw the victim lying in front of the first row of pews. Her face was covered by an altar cloth, only tangles of dark hair showing on the stone floor. Her body seemed to be posed, arms folded over her chest, fingers twined in a wooden rosary. She was wearing a yellowed, nearly tattered wedding gown, her feet bare, a silver band around the ring finger of her left hand.
    â€œWho is it?” he asked.
    â€œOne of the nuns here,” Bentz said. “Sister Camille.”
    â€œKilled here? At the altar?”
    Like a sacrificial lamb.
    â€œThink so. There are some signs of a struggle, scrapes on her feet, a torn fingernail.” Bentz pointed to her right hand. “Hopefully she clawed her attacker and the son of a bitch’s skin is under her nails.”
    Could they get so lucky as to have a sample of the killer’s DNA? Montoya doubted it.
    â€œWe haven’t found a secondary crime scene yet.” Bentz looked around the chapel, to the doors. “But, hell, this is a big place.”
    And a helluva spot for a murder, Montoya thought, eyeing the massive crucifix towering above the Communion table.
    â€œThe cathedral, convent, and grounds take up more than a city block,” Bentz said, still scowling.
    â€œGated, right? Locked.”
    â€œEverything’s locked at night, even the main doors to the cathedral. Either he snuck in before lockdown or he’s a part of the community.”
    Montoya frowned at the draped body. The woman was slim, her arms crossed over her chest, her fingers twined around a rosary. “We got pictures of this?”
    â€œYeah.”
    Montoya yanked on a pair of latex gloves, bent down, and lifted the long, thin altar cloth to see the fixed, beautiful stare of the dead woman.
    A woman he knew.
    Intimately.
    Son of a bitch.
    Sucker punched, he drew in a sharp breath. Blood congealed in his body. For a second, he thought he might be sick.
    â€œYou said she was Sister Camille?”
    â€œYeah. That’s what the mother superior called her. Her legal name is—”
    â€œCamille Renard.” Montoya squeezed his eyes shut for a second. Trying to gain some equilibrium. How had this happened? Why? Jesus, he didn’t even know she was in the city. He had to force his eyes open again. Cammie’s pale visage and glassy eyes met his. “Bloody damned hell,” he whispered between clenched teeth.
    â€œYou know her?”
    â€œKnew her. A long time ago.” A flash of memory, one he’d rather forget, sliced through his brain. Camille Renard. So full of life. So fun-loving. So . . . capricious. The most unlikely woman he’d ever know to take the vows to become a nun. “I went to high school with Camille Renard.”
    â€œOh, shi—for the love of God.” Bentz’s eyes darkened with concern. “Just don’t tell me you dated her.”
    Montoya felt his jaw set even harder. “Okay, I won’t.”
    â€œBut you did.”
    â€œIn high school.”
    Just long enough for him to get laid and for her to lose her virginity.

CHAPTER 6
    S ister Maura slid between the sheets of her single bed and set her glasses on the tiny side table, nearly knocking over the stack of books she had positioned under the wall sconce. Her mattress, as stiff and old as the hills, creaked with her weight. She fingered her prayer book, the one she kept under the bedclothes, nestled close to her thigh, but she didn’t close her eyes.
    Through the small window, lights were flashing blue and red, strobing from the