“Don’t you see what you’re doing?” Beale’s voice boomed across the courtroom. “You’re condemning me because my sexual practices are different from yours. This is blatant prejudice. It’s no different than condemning someone because they aren’t chaste, or because they’re homosexual, or they… they… don’t use the missionary position!”

“This is different, sir,” Canelli said firmly. “There’s a big difference. Because here, someone got murdered.”

“That had nothing to do with the Liberated Christian activities.”

“I think it did. I think that’s, in part, why Kate McGuire was murdered. Tell me, was she another of your favorites?”

Beale hesitated. “I have already said that we had been together on several occasions. I’d probably been with her more often than anyone else.”

“You enjoyed being with her.”

“Yes.”

“But she didn’t enjoy being with you, did she?”

“At the time, I thought-”

“When she talked to you the day of the wedding, didn’t she express regret and remorse about what she had done with you?”

“Yes. I’ve already said-”

“She told you she wanted out, right? In fact, she wanted the whole program shut down.”

“That was what she said.”

“She called it evil. Wasn’t that her word? Evil?”

“Yes,” Beale said quietly.

The tiger whirled on him. “Looks like liberation didn’t turn out so well for her, huh? And that’s why you killed her, isn’t it?”

Beale spoke through clenched teeth. “I did not kill her!”

Canelli didn’t let up. “What would’ve happened if she had reported what was going on to the bishop?”

“I… can’t be entirely sure…”

“But it wouldn’t have been good, huh?”

“There would have been an ecclesiastical review.”

“Oh, come clean, Father. You would’ve lost your job.”

“Very likely.”

“In fact, you’d probably never work as a priest again.”

“It’s possible that some other penance might be arranged…”

“With your record?”

“Record? I’ve been arrested twice. Once during a rally in support of the Equal Rights Amendment at the state capital. Once when I was marching in opposition to the Black Fox nuclear power plant.”

Ben knew Beale was trying to soften the blow by being forthcoming with details that weren’t harmful anyway. But that wasn’t what Canelli was after. “I’m not talking about your criminal record, sir. I’m talking about your record of sexual impropriety.”

Beale’s lips pressed together, his face the picture of barely suppressed rage. “I don’t have any such record.”

Canelli’s head sprang up like a cobra’s. “Your honor? Past acts?”

Pitcock nodded. “You may proceed.”

Ben was on his feet, once again just a beat too late. “Your honor, I object. He didn’t-”

“Don’t bother, Mr. Kincaid. The witness made the statement. The prosecutor is allowed to inquire.”

“But your honor-”

“Sit down, Mr. Kincaid. Mr. Canelli, please proceed.”

Canelli didn’t need urging. “This isn’t the first time your libido has gotten you into trouble with a church, is it, Father?”

Ben tumbled back into his chair, feeling like his stomach had just dropped to his knees.

“I’m not sure to what you’re referring.”

“Your previous church, in Oklahoma City. St. Gregory’s. You had to leave because you were messing around.”

Beale’s voice cracked. “There was no lifestyle group in Oklahoma City.”

“No, this was just a flat-out affair, wasn’t it? With a married woman. Marilee Eddings. A member of your flock.”

Beale spoke in a slow and controlled voice. “It was a counseling situation. Our feelings got out of hand.”

“Is that supposed to make it better?”

“It was a mistake. I’ve acknowledged that. I confessed what happened to the bishop-”

“And that’s why you lost your job.”

“The bishop thought it would be best if I relocated to another parish.”

“Where you wouldn’t be hitting on the women?”

Beale’s jaw locked up tight. Veins were visible in his neck. “If the bishop thought I was not trustworthy, he wouldn’t have given me a new church.”

“Your bishop seems to be very understanding about your shortcomings.”

“He believes in forgiveness and redemption, as should all Christians.”

“He gave you another church after you’d engaged in sexual impropriety at the last one.”

Beale’s voice was growing louder. “It was an isolated incident with a woman who-”

“Of course, at the church before that, it was a little girl.”

One of the female jurors gasped, so loudly it could be heard throughout the courtroom. Two of the others covered their faces with their hands. Several were shaking their heads.

“I don’t know what you can possibly-”

“St. John’s. In Choctaw. You were brought up on charges for molesting a nine-year-old girl.”

Ben felt his blood run cold. Beale’s defense was disintegrating and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“That was a misunderstanding.”

“Oh, no doubt.”

“It was!” Beale shouted. His face was hard and red. He gripped the banister, trying to retain control. “I was at a summer camp, as a counselor. A group of girls were playing a game. Soccer, I think it was. One of the girls scored a point, and everyone was shouting and hugging and congratulating her. I swatted her on the backside with the back of my hand.”

“You touched her buttocks?”

“It’s a common thing to do.”

“To a nine-year-old girl?”

“In the sports world!” Beale shouted. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. I just wasn’t thinking.”

“You seem to have a problem in that department.”

“It was a mistake! The girl barely noticed. But some old busybody saw it and reported it to the girl’s mother, and she brought the charges. Which were soon dropped.”

“Was that because your partner-in-crime, the bishop, intervened for you again?”

“It’s because there was nothing to it!” Beale teetered forward, almost rising out of his seat. “I made a mistake and learned from it. It never happened again!”

“Well, not with a nine-year-old.” Canelli brought his full height to bear, hovering over the witness stand. “But you’ve got a history of sexual impropriety that spans your entire career.”

“There are only three incidents-”

“That I was able to uncover. But before you claimed there were none at all. And three is a lot for a… holy man, wouldn’t you say?”

Father Beale fell silent.

“Here’s how I see it, Father. When Kate McGuire confronted you, you saw the whole thing blowing up in your face. Again. If she squealed to the bishop, and word got out about what you were doing, no one could save you. You’d be finished as a priest. You’d be publicly exposed as a sex pervert. And that’s why you killed her.”

“I did not kill her!” Beale roared. He jumped to his feet. “I did not kill her!”

Ben and Christina exchanged a pained look. He’d lost it. Canelli had gotten what he wanted-and the jury was watching.

“You did,” Canelli said. “You killed her in cold blood. To save yourself!”

“I did not!” Beale’s face flushed crimson. His entire body trembled with rage. “I did not!”

“Then who did? The invisible man? The only person whose fingerprints were on that weapon was you! How do you explain that?”

“I… can’t.”

“Because you killed her, didn’t you? You had sex with her, time and time again, and when she didn’t like it anymore, you killed her!”

“No!” Beale’s face was contorted by vivid, almost tangible anger. He leaned against the railing, virtually snarling. He looked like a monster.

Judge Pitcock pounded his gavel. “The witness will sit down and control himself!”

“I did not kill her!” Beale continued, oblivious to the judge, the jury, everything. “I couldn’t kill anyone!”

Which he could shout all day, Ben realized, and it wouldn’t matter. Because in the courtroom, actions speak louder than words. And at the moment, he looked like a man who could kill. Could and would. And did.