“Thanks, Pastor Colby.”
The man grinned. “I’m Jared, by the way. I’m not even Pastor Colby all the time to my parishioners. Given names create an atmosphere in which people can be more relaxed.”
“Jared,” Hunter said.
The man smiled and then his smile faded to a worried frown. “Do you think that...that we might have had that poor young woman in here? Karyl will be devastated, of course. She’ll feel she didn’t do enough. She’ll feel she should have brought her into the flock, and kept her safe.”
“Hopefully, we’ll discover the young woman’s identity soon,” Hunter said. He glanced at his watch. “My partner on this from the FDLE should be here any minute. You know, I’ve noted this is a large church. And it has a spectacular stained-glass window.”
“Some of the wealthier members of the congregation like to donate.”
“For a small town, you have several houses of worship. Are they all this big?”
“Sure. People come from the north, south, east and west,” Jared Colby said. “Think of where we are—the next big thing you’ve got to the north is the Greater Orlando area. You’d have to go through the Everglades and state, tribal and federal land to the west. Big stuff to the east, but it’s a long drive. We collect from all this not-quite-Everglades, not-coast, not-theme-park town here. And I know this sounds too much like cotton candy and bull, but we practice what we preach—respect. So...”
“Sounds good,” Hunter said. “Let’s step back outside. Special Agent Amy Larson should be arriving any minute.”
One of the field office sedans was just pulling up. Special Agent Ryan Anders, fresh out of the academy, was driving. Hunter could see Amy next to him, studying the church as they arrived.
“John?” he asked as soon as she got out of the car.
“Considering the circumstances, he’s doing very well,” she said, looking past him to Jared Colby.
“Hello,” Colby said.
Hunter performed the necessary introductions.
“Need me to stick around, sir?” Anders asked.
Hunter had his own car, but he thought it might be a good thing if he and Amy took their time; he wanted Amy to make a sketch of the woman Karyl Vine had talked with, and he wanted to send it back to the morgue as soon as possible. Before putting it out on any media, he wanted Carver’s opinion to determine if it was the murdered woman, if it appeared that it might be her. Amy’s sketches could put life into a rendering, and since he wasn’t sure he wanted to release a crime-scene photo, he was hoping Amy’s drawing would be accurate.
“Yeah, thanks. I’m going to have Amy do a sketch, and I’ll have you run it to Dr. Carver.”
“Understood, but...”
“Yes?”
“Well, sir, you do realize it’s nearly seven at night, and by the time I get back... I’m assuming Dr. Carver goes home at some time.”
“Right. We could shoot him an image via the phone.”
“But I don’t care about the hour. I’ll be happy to stay, do anything, go anywhere.”
Anders was fresh, new, and the weight of his responsibilities appeared to be something he took seriously. Hunter liked that in him. He wondered if Anders thought it would get easier; he didn’t want to douse the young man’s vision and tell him he hadn’t signed on for a job but for a vocation.
Nothing got easier, especially seeing the cruelty man could inflict on his fellows.
“Sure, stick around. We’ll see if there is anything that comes up.”
Anders started to get back into his car. “She’s great, huh?”
“Pardon?”
“Amy. Oh, no disrespect meant. She told me to call her that.”
“Sure.”
“She studied the whole way over here—talking, too, and listening to my opinion. She’s so attractive... I guess I wasn’t expecting such a sharp mind. Sorry again! No disrespect meant.”
“We’re all human,” he said. “But you’re an FBI agent. Best to make sure you’re showing respect to everybody.”
He turned and headed back. Amy and Jared Colby were waiting for him at the front of the church.
“Ready?” Hunter asked. Pastor Colby led the way.
A door behind the sanctuary led out to a covered walkway with a barrel-tile roof and slight overhang. The walkway was about fifty feet and led to another hall with doors, the first labeled Office.
Colby opened the door for them, and Hunter followed Amy in.
The office held two desks, both facing the door, and the woman in question—Pastor Karyl Vine—was seated behind the second.
She jumped up when she saw them, and Hunter could see the concern on her face. She was young—early thirties, tops—with sandy hair cut in a bob. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt, comfortable for her work.
She had been waiting for them.
Colby made introductions.
When they’d grabbed chairs and were seated, Hunter smiled. “So, please, tell us about this young woman you met, Karyl.”
“I do so hope your dead woman isn’t her!” Karyl said passionately. “I don’t know where to start.”
“From the beginning,” Amy said, reaching across the desk to squeeze the young pastor’s hand. “How did you meet her? Your congregation is a decent size, though I understand many people around here know each other.”
Karyl nodded, clinging to Amy’s hand. “Jared was leading the service. I was in the back. We had a few of my favorite music people up there that Sunday, and I was...well, I love our music. I was rocking out in the back—you can rock out to God, you know.”
“Of course. Sounds great,” Amy said.
“She was in the back. I just...well, I saw her face. She turned to look toward the back doors. Almost as if...”
“As if?” Hunter encouraged.
“She was expecting someone, or even as if she was afraid someone might come. First, I thought she might be a teenager, trying out our church for the first time, the kid of someone who worshipped at another place. Except we’re not like that around here—religious-wise. We attend and help with fundraisers, no matter which church—or temple—is on it. Then I realized she wasn’t as young as I thought at first. She had to be in her twenties. Not that parents can’t still scare us when we’re grown up. But...anyway, when the service ended, I made a point of meeting her. She never gave me a last name. But she told me her name was Billie—short for Wilhelmina. She laughed about it and we both agreed that Wilhelmina was a heck of a name for a baby.”