The Night Watch at St. Agnes

added blog Literature

2026-06-10 21:00:47 -

The basement of St. Agnes Church smelled like wet paper and old prayers, which is to say it smelled like everything Los Angeles had tried to forget. Jack Morana sat on an upturned crate with a bottle of rye in his coat pocket and a .38 in his waistband, watching the single bulb swing above him like a pendulum counting down to something he couldn't name. Three days. Father Deluca had been gone...

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