Archangel of Sedona by Tony Peluso Page B

trail guide, New Age counselor, tantric massage therapist, and Reiki master. He’s a Catholic priest?”
    “That’s the guy,” Jim said. “But he’s not Catholic. He’s not a priest anymore. He was an Episcopalian priest until about ten years ago. He quit and became a trail guide. He’s a character. He grew up around here. He knows every nook and cranny from Flagstaff to Prescott.”
    “How do I contact him?” I asked.
    “I’ll write down his number,” Jim said, as he grabbed a pad and pen from the counter. “I talked to him this morning. He’s interested in meeting you. He’s expecting your call. He told me that if I saw you, I should tell you that he’s free late this afternoon.”
    “Jim, I grateful. I’ll call him right away,” I said, as Gretchen approached with a full bag and a long receipt from the cashier.
    “Save that receipt,” I told Gretchen. “I’ll attach it to the petition I’ll have to file in the Bankruptcy Court in Tampa.”
    “Very funny, sweetie. I’m doing my part for the Catholic Church.”
    “But you’re not Catholic,” I said.
    “My sons are Catholic. Remember, you made me go to all those masses? Besides, by not being a Catholic, that makes my generosity all the more admirable.”
    “OK, but Mother Teresa, you’re not. Gretch, Jim is the manager here and Linda works the counter,” I said, gesturing to my left. “Jim gave me the number of a man who may know something about the Christus. We have to hustle back to the trailhead to get the car. I want to see the guy this afternoon. Where do you want me to take you?”
    “I’m going with you this time.”
    “Sure that you want to go? You’ll be enabling my obsession.”
    “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ll have a couple of margaritas first.”
    “Well, that’s a happy coincidence,” Jim said.
    “What is?” I asked.
    “Hansen wants to meet you at the Cowboy Club in Uptown Sedona. It’s near where you’re staying,” Jim said.
    The manager’s words struck me like a baseball bat to the knee. “How do you know where we’re staying? I never told you that.”
    “That’s right. Father O’Malley told me.”
    “How did he learn about our hotel?”
    “That’s parish business. Tony, Sedona is a small town. It would take me twenty minutes to track a tourist down here. We get some deadbeats and some bad paper. We’ve got to protect the financial interest of the Church. We have an excellent working relationship with the Sedona Police and the Coconino and Yavapai Sheriffs’ Offices.”
    “Thanks, Jim,” I said. “I don’t merit the chapel’s bad credit treatment!”
    “Oh, I see. Sorry, I didn’t mean it that way. No one is impugning your integrity, Tony. In fact, you’re a kindred spirit, right? Father Pat said that you’re a lawyer who works for a Sheriff in Florida, right?”
    That one floored me. I looked over at Gretchen. She shrugged it off.
    “Jim, what’s going on here? Why is the parish so interested in my background?”
    “I told you that you caused a stir. If you’re curious, you can ask Father Pat.”
    “Believe me, I will. Is he at the parish now?”
    “No, but you can ask him later. He’ll be at the meeting with Don Hansen.”
    “Really?” Gretchen said. “What’s his interest in Tony’s quest?”
    “That’s beyond my pay grade folks. I’m only the messenger.”
    Gretchen and I took our leave. Linda and Jim smiled. They told us to have a good afternoon and pleasant stay in Sedona.
    As we walked out, I didn’t spin around. There was no need. I knew they had blood red eyes and an evil intent.

Chapter Six
    August 23, 2013, 5:15 PM
    Cowboy Club and Silver Saddle Room
    241 North State Road 89A
    Uptown Sedona, Arizona
    Uptown Sedona has a different character than it did in simpler times. The venue for our meeting, the Cowboy Club, sits on the property that used to be the Oak Creek Tavern.
    The Tavern was the classic diamond in the rough. Located north of the fork created by