“What about the basement door?” I asked. “Was it unlocked?”
“It was. Usually, it’s locked. That day it wasn’t.”
“Who do you think could’ve gotten inside the basement?”
“Anybody.”
“How many people know about that passageway to the bathroom?”
Pastor Miller sighed. “Those little doors in the bathroom have always been that way. It was like that when I was a boy and my father preached here. The church has melded and nailed the doorways, but that never stopped anything. As a boy, I undid the nails myself with the help of friends to sneak down there during service. And my father found us and fixed our behinds. Still, somehow another generation gets through them and they go down into the basement and do wicked things.”
Haven stirred on my right.
I folded my hands over my lap. “Your father preached here?”
“He did. I was born and raised in Colesville. My father had a church there, but it was destroyed by the KKK. When I was ten, we moved to the Northside of Fullbrooke and he started his church there. Then, that was burned down by Reverend Thompson’s ilk. We moved further south in Fullbrooke. This ended up being his third church.”
Haven smiled. “Your father was determined to bring God to the people.”
“He sure was. Plus, we both know that the devil will never win. Don’t matter how many fires are set or wood is cut down; nobody has the power to erase the Lord.”
I cleared my throat. “So, you went down that passageway during your youth?”
“I did, along with a couple of friends. We never smoked down there like Haven’s generation.”
“What did you all do?”
“We looked at inappropriate magazines.” He shook his head. “Boys being boys. We weren’t smart enough to get the girls to come down too. Thank God or more inappropriate things may have occurred.”
I smiled. “So, then a good portion of this church knows about the passageways?”
“They do.” Pastor Miller gave me an odd look. “Do you think this monster is a part of my congregation?”
“I think that we should look at everyone that knew about the basement.”
“Then, consider the plumber Sam Goodman and our regular maintenance man Sean Thompson.”
Haven stirred again.
That last name was too much of a coincidence.
“Is Sean Thompson related to Reverend Thompson?” I asked.
“He is. Sean is the Reverend’s son.”
Haven spoke up, “So, Sean does maintenance here?”
“Yes. He started five years ago.” Pastor Miller looked at me. “Mrs. Mabel can give you the contact information for both men. I gave it to the police and like everything else, they ignored it.”
I calmed my anger with the local authorities. “That won’t happen with me.”
“How much does Sean come here?” Haven asked.
“He’s here about twice a month. It’s a congregation of over five hundred people and an old building. Something is always breaking. Air conditioner. Heater. Toilet overflows and if the plumber is too busy, Sean will come and handle it.”
Haven frowned. “Sean was in the basement a lot?”
“Yes. He put those covers on the passageway too. He clearly didn’t do a good enough job. . .or maybe that was intentional.”
Haven tapped her foot on the rug.
“Do you have the dates, when the plumber and Sean would have come to this church?” I asked. “I would need the dates for the last six months.”
“I can have Mrs. Mabel give it to you.”
“Thank you.” I rubbed my hands together. “Is there anything else you would like to add, Pastor?”
“People have mentioned that they’ve seen a short, old white man around here. Another said they have seen him by the ballet school. Another said the elementary too. They say he wears jean overalls and a white baseball hat.”
“Who can I talk to about him?”
“Felicia Drake’s older sister remembers him.”
Felicia was the first victim. If the sister saw this man, she could give us a description. I didn’t know if he was our Unsub or not, but I was willing to chase after somebody. If I didn’t have any real suspects in the next week, then I would go crazy. This had to end before he started with a new set of girls.
I made a note to have Stein and Richards check it out. “Agent Barron, do you have any questions?”
Shocked, she nodded. “We think that this guy is giving communion to the girls before he kills them.”
Annoyance hit me. I didn’t want her to give details of the case. The less the public knew, the more we could fish out the killer. But I remained quiet to see where this was going.
Pastor Miller closed his eyes. “He’s giving them communion?”
“Yes. Wine and bread. Why do you think he’s doing it? Could he be trying to save them before they go to God?”
I studied the Pastor.
He opened his eyes and sadness filled them. “The practice comes from the Last Supper. At the meal, unleavened bread and the wine were served. The bread symbolized the purity of Christ and the wine represented the blood of Christ that was shed for us.”
Haven nodded.
“Do you know what type of wine?” Pastor Miller wore a disturbed expression. “The churches in this area—white or black—use the same type of wine. It’s from a Christian store. We get our bread from their too. The place is called Harmony Soul.”
Haven pulled out a notebook and wrote that down. “Thank you.”
That disturbed expression remained on the Pastor’s face. “The Lord’s Supper is meant as a remembrance of Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. It matters on what religion this killer is practicing. This is how communion is for the Baptist. We’re unlike other denominations of Christianity, such as the Catholic church, where the Lord’s Supper is the blood and body of Christ.”
“Hmmm,” I murmured.
They both turned to me.
I asked, “Is there a particular moment where it would be significant to give the girls communion?”
“For Baptist churches, there is no set calendar for partaking in the Lord’s Supper, but each time it’s meant to be a time of devotion and prayer.” Pastor Miller grimaced. “This is evil mimicking the holy.”
“Please keep these details to yourself,” I added.
“I will, Agent King. I won’t tell anyone.”
“Thank you, Pastor Miller.” I rose, pulled out my card, and handed it to him. “You’ve been helpful. If you think of anything, please feel free to call me.”
Haven stood too. “I will see you this Sunday, Pastor.”
“Good. I know your mother will be happy to have you sitting next to her.” Pastor Miller turned to me. “And I hope to see you with them, Agent King.”
“I. . .will do my best.”
“Good. We all need to come together in the house of the lord.”
I got out of there and considered the things that we learned. Many people knew about that basement passageway to the bathroom. Therefore, our suspects would include the congregation as well as the plumber and maintenance man.
Once we left the church and headed to the car, I looked at Haven. “Pastor Miller seemed ready to point all of this at Sean Thompson.”