A Pastor's Burden

In a small hospital room, a visibly shaken woman sat slumped in a chair next to her daughter's bed, watching her chest rise and fall as oxygen moved from the tubes into her lungs. Dark circles framed her eyes, which were heavy with exhaustion and worry. When she heard the news announcement, she looked at the small TV screen and raised the volume quickly. 

"Tonight, A local pastor is in custody after turning himself in for a hit and run of thirteen-year-old girl, Emma Campbell, that occurred only a week ago. Emma was reported missing by her family before she was found at Mercy Hospital as a Jane Doe almost a day later. Emma is currently in critical condition with injuries that include blood-force trauma and spinal fractures. This all unfolded this morning when fifty-four-year-old David O'Reilly of The Church of God in Christ reportedly turned himself in and admitted to hitting her and fleeing the scene. According to the Church, O'Reilley has served as a priest in The Church of God in Christ of White County since 2002 and has even presided over this past Sunday's mass. Interestingly, the church caught on fire Monday morning after it ignited in a building nearby. Luckily, no one was injured. However, a few people were transported to a local hospital for smoke inhalation. The police have told us that this remains an ongoing investigation. Meanwhile, the community and friends of the Campbell family are holding a vigil. Emma's mother told us,' I am just terrified. I want Emma back . . . I don't care about anything else.' Reporting live from Mercy Hospital, this is Angelica Sanchez, CBS News." 

As the woman watched, she sobbed quietly while clasping her daughter's hand, her other arm wrapped protectively around herself as if trying to shield them both from some hidden danger. She was still shocked at the whirlwind of events that rocked her family for the past few days. God was punishing her, she thought. 

Not very far away, two police detectives walked into a room where David O'Reilly sat, his head hunched over in a metal chair and his hands clasped tightly. One of the detectives cleared his throat as they sat opposite him while the other shuffled papers as if he had not just gone over every paper before coming in. 

"Mr. O'Reilly, I am Detective Jameson, and this is Detective Phillips. Do you need anything before we start? Coffee or some water?" David shook his head, which prompted Detective Phillips to begin. 

"Alright, Mr. O'Reilly. Walk me through what happened last Thursday." David sighed and shook his head before speaking slowly. 

"Like I told Officer Jones, I was heading home on Eli Road. I had a lot on my mind and didn't see the poor girl. I slammed on my break immediately. I ran out of the car, and she was lying there, and blood was everywhere. I panicked; I did not know what to do. I do not carry a cell phone. I cried for help, but no one was around. I thought I could take her to a hospital, but I know you are not supposed to move people, and also, I recently had back surgery, so I was not sure if I could. I went back into my car, and I had all the intention of going to the nearest station, but I don't know what happened. The devil is a powerful enemy. I . . got scared." 

"The devil. . . I see. Where were you coming from?" 

"I. . . drive to a local donation center now and then to buy books for the children in my parish." 

"Right. We called after your initial statement, and while everyone knew who you were, no one could confirm you were there last Thursday."

"Yes, I . . . I realized that I forgot my wallet at home and just turned around and did not make it there." 

"I see. . . and what happened when you returned home?" 

"I . . . parked the car. My wife was helping my oldest son, Adam, with homework, and the other two were playing in their room. Deacon Cowley came over, and we discussed Sunday's sermon. When he left, I put Faith and Jacob to bed and showered. After Adam went to bed, I told my wife what happened."

"Help me understand this. You are a man of God. You teach his word. You know right from wrong and good from evil, yet you hit an innocent young girl, and you walk away? How? "

"I don't know Detective. As I said, the devil is powerful. He feeds on our weaknesses. I thought I was going to lose my family. I got scared and. . ."

"Spare me the spiritual nonsense. Did you know Ms. Campbell before?" Detective Phillips interjected. Clearly, he played the bad cop. 

"What?! No . . . I mean, I don't know. As far as I know, we don't have a Campbell in our parish. But people come and go all the time. Wait, why are you even asking?" 

"Several reasons, pastor. . . several reasons." They both stood up and prepared to leave the room. 

David looked at them and asked if he could know these reasons, but they shook their heads and opened the door to leave. David yelled as they walked out that it was an accident. 

As they walked through the precinct hallway, Detective Jameson asked, "What do you think?"

"Too early, but something does not feel right. My gut tells me he is lying about something. Do we have any witnesses yet? Also, where is the wife? We need to talk to her. And how is the girl doing?"

"No witnesses, and I believe she is in the hospital with her daughter. Faith is still in critical condition, and doctors are not optimistic."

Elizabeth woke up to the beeping sound on Faith's monitors. A few seconds later, the nurse came in to check. After a few taps, the beeping sound stopped. The nurse mentioned that the IV will need to be changed soon. Elizabeth asked if there was any word from the Pulmonologist they had been waiting for. The nurse shook her head and said she would send a message. Elizabeth asked why the doctor took so long to come to the hospital. The nurse said she did not know but that he was currently unavailable. Before Elizabeth could protest, two detectives appeared at the door, and the nurse excused herself. 

"Mrs. O'Reilly, we are sorry to disturb you and to come at such a difficult time. However, we have a few questions." 

Elizabeth's eyes flickered with apprehension before her guarded wariness took over. She stood up and walked with them outside of the room. 

"Mrs. O'Reilly, do you know what time your husband returned home last Thursday?"

"I'm not sure. David usually meets with Deacon Cowley around 8 p.m. on Thursdays, so I am guessing before that time." 

"Do you know where he was that day?" 

"I believe he went to the local donation center." 

"And when did he leave to go there?"

"I can't say as I was not home. I picked up the kids from school and dropped them off at my sister's."

"And what time would you say that was?"

"Probably around 4 p.m. when I was at my sister's house." 

"And where did you go?"

"I sometimes help local businesses with their books, so I was at the local motel on Siesta Drive. 

"Eddie's place?" 

"Huh? ... oh yes, Edward." 

"Mrs. O'Reilly, we talked to many folks, and they all mentioned how kind and thoughtful your husband is. Don't you think it is strange for him to leave a poor girl to die after he hit her with his car?" 

"Well . . . yes, of course, detective." 

"Mrs. O'Reilly, Angela, has your husband ever hurt you or the children?" 

"WHAT!? No! David would never hurt. . . "She paused. She wanted to say anything but stopped. Tears filled her eyes as she tried to finish the sentence but couldn't. 

"Alright, Mrs. O'Reilly, that will do for now. We will be in touch." The detectives turned and left her standing in the hallway like a house remaining after a tornado ripped everything around. 

After talking to the wife, Detective Phillips was more convinced that something was fishy. He told his partner they needed to step it up. By the time they returned to the precinct, they had camera footage from some businesses and the report from the fire department to review. Unfortunately, the footage wasn't helpful. The fire that destroyed the garage, which had the car involved in the accident, started with an outdated breaker box with worn connectors, which caused the system to overload and cause a fire. It was just a coincidence. Detective Phillips thought it a very convenient coincidence. He needed to try something else.

"Mr. O'Reilly, you are a good pastor. Some of our officers know you and attend your mass. Some even say you are too good. So I did a little digging, and guess what I found? Since 2003, we have had six murders that have remained unsolved. All of them were within a ten-mile radius of your church. All of the victims were teenagers between the ages of thirteen and eighteen. So, is there anything you want to tell us?"

"This is ridiculous. I came here and confessed alone without even being considered a suspect. I know I did something terrible, and God will be my judge. I am unsure what you are trying to prove here, but I have been cooperative, answered all your questions, and have nothing more to add."

"We appreciate your honesty, Mr. O'Reilly, but we are trying to do our job to ensure justice is served, "Detective Jameson responded. 

"I have done my best to help and.. "A knock on the door started David and interrupted him. Someone slightly opened the door, and both detectives left. Fear flashed across David's face before he put his face in his hands and prayed. 

The detectives walked quickly to their car to drive to Mercy Hospital. Emma gained her consciousness. The doctors refused to let them interview her, but after some negotiation, they settled on being able to talk to her for a minute. Emma confirmed the vehicle but couldn't determine who was driving as everything was still foggy. Her father and the doctor told the detectives that this was enough for now. Frustrated, they left without much progress. 

Back at St. John's Hospital, where Faith was still hooked up to an oxygen tank, her mother received word from the nurse that the Pulmonologist was on his way and should be here any minute. The nurse then lowered her voice and whispered to her: "I am not supposed to tell you, and I probably would get in trouble for it, but the specialist is Dr. Campbell." She paused for a second and looked at the mother, but it didn't seem to click, so she continued, "You know he is the father of the poor girl who . . . You know." The room seemed to close around her as the weight of the revelation hit her. Guilt surged within her as her chest felt a sudden pressure that made it hard to breathe. The nurse helped her sit on a chair and brought a cup of iced water. Angela rubbed her temples and tried to push the images away. Her guilt was gnawing on her insides, whispering incessantly that God was punishing her. She couldn't escape it or hide from it. She tried to isolate herself in her daughter's room, spending hours sitting in the dark and pushing away friends and family. No one could understand the magnitude of her guilt. She buried her face in her hands and started crying before a knock on the door got her attention. It was Dr. Campbell. 

The next day, the detectives returned to Emma's room to ask her more questions. Her memory was still hazy, but she could better describe the car and confirm that it was a man driving it—not someone she knew. When given a picture of Pastor O'Reilly, she couldn't identify it as him. 

Detective Jameson thought that, at this point, the case was almost closed. They had a confession; the victim identified the car, the time, and that a man was driving. However, 

Detective Phillips still felt something was wrong, so he decided to try another strategy. They went to the interrogation room again, and Detective Phillips said the five words any culprit would want to hear:" You are free to go." David did not move. 

"What ?" 

"You are free to go, Sir. You will still be held liable for perjury, but for now, you may go, but don't leave town." 

"Detective, I confessed. I don't understand."

" Yes, but fortunately, Miss Campbell regained her consciousness last night."

David became quiet, and fear overcame his face. He didn't know what to think. He replayed the events of that fateful night in his head. Angela came home with a shocked look on her face. She broke down, sobbing, and told him what had happened: the car, the sudden flash of a figure on the road, the screeching brakes, the crash, and then . . . silence. The children came down the stairs after they heard their mother crying. He looked at them and didn't hesitate for a second. He hugged his family and told them to go back upstairs. When deacon Cowley came, he told him he wasn't feeling great and told him to work on the sermon himself. He sent him home, put the kids to bed, showered, and told his wife about his plan. She vehemently refused, but he convinced her it was best for the children. He couldn't do what she did. But now it seems guilt has gotten to her. 

"Look, it doesn't matter what the young lady said. I did it, okay? It was not Angela." 

"Angela?" Both detectives asked.

"Is it not what the girl said?"

"Don't worry what she said. Are you saying it was your wife who was driving the car?"

"I. . I.. I didn't say that."

"Now it makes sense. That's why I couldn't believe you. You lied to protect your wife. She hit the poor girl, panicked, went home, and you took the blame for her."

" No, I did it. I am telling you I am the one who did it. Why you can't accept my confession?" 

"Because it is a lie, Pastor. I respect you for taking the blame, but listen to me. The girl isn't dead. With a confession, a good lawyer, and good behavior, your wife might spend a short time in prison. But I need your cooperation, okay? Detective Johnson will take your statement, okay? We will be right back."

As soon as they walked out, Detective Jameson, puzzled, pointed out that this didn't make sense. Emma confirmed that it was a man who drove the car. Detective Phillips smiled and mentioned that it didn't make sense and didn't say anything. They got into the car and started driving. 

"Wait, this is not the way to the hospital." 

"We are not going to hospital." 

"I thought we were arresting Angela." 

"We will, but first, we arrest the real culprit."

"And you are not going to tell me who it is, I'm guessing."

Phillips smiled and shook his head. A few minutes later, they stopped before the Starry Night Motel. In less than a minute of questioning, Edward confessed it was him. 

Edward first met Angela at the church and was quickly drawn to her. He immediately jumped on the opportunity when he heard she worked with a few local businesses. After three kids, her marriage was stagnant, and with her husband being a pastor and always busy, she felt neglected. He tried many times, but she turned him down. Then, one day, she didn't. On the day of the accident, they had sex for the first time. She had a few glasses of wine, so he offered to drive closer to her house. He was so overjoyed to be with her that he didn't see the poor girl. At that moment, all his dreams turned into a nightmare. He tried to call the police, but she panicked and said no. She couldn't face her husband. When they saw a car's headlights coming, she told him to go back to his motel and that she would take care of it. He thought she would take the girl to the hospital, but when he heard nothing, he realized she wasn't. 

A month later, Detective Phillips stopped by Pastor O'Reilly's house. A moving truck was parked outside, and boxes were sitting out. David and his son gingerly walked out of the house, carrying a dresser. When they saw him, David told Adam to help his siblings. The Detective picked up the dresser and helped bring it without saying a word. 

"How can I help you, Detective?"

"I just came to apologize, Pastor. I know I was harsh with you, and you didn't deserve that."

"Oh, that's alright; I lied to you, so you are fine. But how did you know ?"

"Let's call it instinct." 

"That's a gift from God."

"Sure, Pastor, speaking of which. . ."

"Oh, I knew you didn't just come to apologize. Ask your question."

"Seems I am not the only one with gifts."

"Of course not. God is generous."

"It was you who caused that fire, wasn't it?"

"I swore I wouldn't lie again, so yes, it was me. Is that instinct, too?"

The Detective laughed and shook his head as he walked away, saying, "This was a gift from God."