Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108849 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 544(@200wpm)___ 435(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“Her camera faces just the front of the home and that whole street but not the backyard, correct?” Laurel asked.
“Yes. I’m having the officer go door to door to retrieve all of the CCTV he can.”
She slumped farther down in her seat. “They won’t find anything.”
“I know.”
* * *
After an essentially sleepless night, Laurel ignored a call from the deputy director of the FBI as Huck parked in the long field in front of the Genesis Valley Community Church.
He glanced at her phone. “You’re not answering George’s call?”
“Not right now.” She feared he’d pull her off the case, and her blood hummed in the way it always did when she was getting closer to answers.
“Stay there.” Huck opened his door and stepped out.
Why in the world would she stay there?
He crossed around the truck and opened her door. “It’s icy out here.”
Ah, the overprotectiveness again. She held his arm as she stepped down, and her boots did indeed slide. She latched onto his elbow to steady herself. “You weren’t jesting.”
“I rarely am,” Huck said grimly.
They moved back to the main drive and maneuvered the distance to the front of the church among members of the congregation. The storm had been brutal the night before, and branches and mangled pine cones covered the ground. She wasn’t one to go on feelings, but the people trudging around them, as well as the very air hanging over them, seemed somber.
They wandered inside the sprawling building and into the narthex, where a woman wearing a long purple skirt handed them a program. Uma stood on the other side of the aisle, also handing out stapled programs. Was she still dating Zeke?
“Thank you.” Laurel continued into the nave.
“Where do you want to sit?” Huck asked, his hand at her elbow.
She continued down the aisle and entered the front pew. “Right up front.”
“By the aisle,” Huck said, sitting instantly.
“All right.” She sat next to him and looked up at the currently vacant pulpit. Beyond it lay a chancel and then the altar, with its stunning stained-glass windows framing jagged Orphan’s Peak across the river. The name caught her attention. “Who named all of these mountains and peaks?”
“I have absolutely no idea.” Huck shifted his weight on the wooden bench.
She looked at him. “Are you uncomfortable?” It was supposition, but based on the rigidity of his shoulders, she likely guessed correctly.
“No, I’m fine.” He looked over his shoulder.
Ah, the captain did not like to have people behind him. Whenever they went anywhere in public, he always sat, if he could, with his back to a wall and his gaze on a door.
“Why do you ask about the names?” he asked.
“We have Snowblood Peak, Orphan’s Peak, Viper’s Mountain, Widow’s Peak, Crow Mountain, Witch Creek. Is there a Happy Mountain around here? A Gleeful Mountain or a Cheerful Dancing Mountain?”
He chuckled, the harsh lines in his face relaxing. “Not that I know of, but maybe I can write a letter to somebody.”
“I was just curious.”
A choir at the far end of the south transept began to sing a hymn that she’d never heard before. The pretty song created a lovely picture about life and a glorious future.
“Hmm,” Huck said. “I thought they would’ve been more traditional.”
As did Laurel, but she enjoyed the song.
He grunted. She hadn’t learned to interpret all of his grunts, so she didn’t know what that meant.
Pastor John Govern soon took the pulpit, dressed in a black robe with a light purple stole. “Hello, my friends.” He lifted both hands. “It is good to see you all today.” His gaze caught on Laurel and Huck, and he faltered before surveying the crowd.
Laurel looked behind them to see the entire nave full of parishioners. Many people even stood in the back.
“Do you believe in God?” Huck whispered.
She considered the question. “I do believe in a higher power. Otherwise, none of this makes any sense. We can call him God.” She had a feeling they had absolutely no idea about the true essence of this higher power, but she’d also seen the intricacies of the human body and the universe at large. They hadn’t been created by coincidence.
“Thank you for coming.” Pastor John’s voice easily reached the back of the church. He appeared commanding and reassuring at the same time. “I’ve been thinking a lot about community and trust.”
Laurel settled in to watch the pastor. His voice rose and fell in a rhythmic cadence that sounded very charming and engaging. He soon had many of the people responding with agreement.
“He’s very good,” Huck whispered.
Laurel nodded. “I believe that’s called charisma.”
“I believe it is,” Huck said dryly.
Pastor John preached about fellowship, trust, and community, and how important it was for each of the congregation members to watch each other’s backs.
“I think he might be creating friends,” she whispered.
Huck nodded. “He’s definitely hitting hard the ideals of loyalty and small-town community. That’s interesting.”