Chapter 24

24

S ettling into the driver's seat, Calvin started the engine. A quick look at the dash told him it was close to lunch. He'd call Jenna and see if she wanted him to bring home food. He pressed the call button on his steering wheel and told Bluetooth to dial Jenna. The line rang in his ear until her voicemail message greeted him.

He disconnected then pressed the call button again, grateful he'd thought to put the number of the shelter into his contacts once he and Jenna had decided to stay there. "Call Safe Haven Women's Shelter."

Mrs. Collins answered as Calvin slid out of his parking spot and headed toward the main road. "Hello, how may I help you?"

"Hi Mrs. Collins, it's Calvin. Do you and Jenna want me to grab something to eat on my way home?"

"Feeding us again, huh?" she said with a soft chuckle. "I'm not hungry, but thanks for offering, and Jenna's not here."

"Where'd she go?" he asked, frowning.

"The priest called and asked her to come by the church to go over Stella's funeral. She left a few minutes ago. Elsie and I are watching Oliver until she gets back."

His stomach dropped. He didn't like the idea of Jenna being alone. He pulled into a bank parking lot and turned back toward town. "I'm going to head to the church. Planning her sister's funeral can't be easy, especially with everything going on right now."

"Take your time. We've got Oliver."

After thanking Mrs. Collins, he disconnected and sped to the church. He spotted Jenna's car parked along the street. He slid into a spot in the parking lot and jogged up the cement stairs to the double doors. He yanked on the handle, but the door didn't budge.

Weird.

He slammed his fist against the hard wood, keeping his ears tuned for approaching footsteps.

Nothing.

Maybe a back door was left unlocked for the public during the week instead of the giant oak doors. He trotted down the stairs and ran to the back of the building. A narrow stairwell dipped under the ground, probably access to a basement.

He took the steep stairs two at a time. The musty scent of damp earth filled his nostrils. He grabbed the round knob on the weathered door and turned, but it didn't move. Shoving a hand through his hair, he ran over his options. Could Jenna have met Father Bowman somewhere other than the church?

Possible. But why tell Mrs. Collins that's where she'd be if she planned to meet the priest somewhere else?

Running back up the stairs, his blood thundered in his ears. He approached the huge windows that lined the space he assumed was the sanctuary. He cupped his hand above his eyes and pressed his nose to the glass. The manipulated glass made it impossible to see inside.

A faint shadow shifted. He squinted, trying to make out the shape. A figure rose then darted a few feet away, only to return to the same spot. The vague outline of another figure huddled beside it. His heart lodged in his throat. His instincts screamed.

Jenna!

His phone rang, and he yanked it from his pocket without glancing at the screen. "Hello? Jenna?"

"It's Cruz. Is everything all right? You sound a little frazzled."

"I am," he said, tightening his jaw. "I'm at the church looking for Jenna. She came to talk to Father Bowman about Stella's funeral, but I can't get inside. Everything's locked."

"Calvin, I need you to stay calm and listen. I just uncovered that Father Bowman used to be married to Tracey Mayfield."

Shock stole his movements. His hand fell to his side. "The woman who died from the car accident? The case Dr. Kent was involved in?"

"Tracey Mayfield's death involved Jenna, as well as Dr. Kent who you two interviewed, and Dr. Church. Too many connections to ignore. I've spent the morning wading through what happened. Tracey hadn't gotten around to changing her last name, so no one tied her to Father Bowman. They were on their honeymoon, driving across country, when she was in the car accident that took her life. He joined the priesthood shortly after. Father Bowman may be very dangerous."

Alarm blasted a screeching warning inside him. "I'm getting in this church one way or another."

"I'll be there in five minutes. Don't do anything stupid. I'm on my way."

Calvin disconnected, ran back up the front steps, and rammed his shoulder against the door. Cruz must have already come to the same conclusion—Father Bowman was a murderer.

And he had Jenna trapped inside.

Jenna blinked, retraining her focus on Father Bowman. She cleared her throat and tried to force words that kept getting stuck in her hazy brain. Blood moved like thick sludge in her veins. She tried to stand, but her knees buckled. Dizziness swarmed her like a pack of angry wasps. She cradled her head in her hands, adding pressure to the pounding against her skull.

"You don't look well. Let's get you in my office and call for help." Father Bowman cupped his large hand under her elbow and propped her onto her feet.

Fear bit into her, swift and paralyzing. Being alone with him in the sanctuary of the church was bad enough. If he got her alone in his office, she'd never escape. She rooted her heels in the wooden planks. "I need fresh air."

"Let me at least help you outside." Tightening his grip, he pulled her harder.

She stumbled forward, latching on to him to keep herself up right. Once steady, she let go and yanked from his grasp. "No. I'm fine."

Father Bowman chuckled. "What's going on, Jenna? Are you upset with me?"

She straightened, summoning as much strength as she could on her shaky legs. "Were you at Stella's office the other day?" He wasn't going to let her walk away. She needed to get him talking, distract him, so she could come up with a plan.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. "Why are you so obsessed with my relationship with Stella?"

She widened her stance, hoping to anchor herself. "Because you claim you barely knew her, and I don't buy it."

He ran a hand over his mouth and stepped closer. "Even if I knew Stella well, why would I be in her office? After her death?"

Jenna shrugged. "To look for the cards you wrote her."

Red colored Father Bowman's naturally bronzed complexion. His jaw tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really?" she asked, swallowing the bile creeping up her esophagus. She lifted her heavy arm and rested it on top of the second pew, trying to make her way slowly to the back of the church where the doors led to freedom. "So you weren't the one who broke into Stella's house and trashed the place? Someone was looking for something. I can only assume it was the cards from the flowers you sent Stella stuffed inside her mattress. Since the letters were still there, you must have thought she hid them outside the home. The office would be the next logical stop."

She inhaled deeply. "Besides, your text message alert is very distinct. One I've only heard once before. In Stella's office." She kept her gaze locked on his. Fogginess might have taken over her brain, her limbs might weigh a ton, but she wouldn't show him any signs of fear.

He clenched his jaw. "When did you hear my phone in Stella's office?"

"The same day you walked right in and rummaged around the storage shelves."

Father Bowman sprang forward, snaking his hand behind her neck. "You don't know a damn thing."

She reared back. The motion caused spikes of pain to slam inside her skull. She closed her eyes, breathing in through her nose to regain her equilibrium. When she opened her eyes, she stared at the twisted face of a monster. He was out of his mind, his words senseless to her unsteady mind.

A swell of wooziness crashed over her. She wobbled, and Father Bowman tightened his grip around the back of her neck, his bony fingers pushing into her flesh. She winced. "What happened with Stella? I read the cards. It sounded like you loved her." She struggled to form the words, her voice low and quiet. She might not make it out of here, but she at least wanted to know the truth behind what happened to her sister.

The anger in his pinched face relaxed, along with his hold on her. "I didn't love her, but I cared for her. I didn't want to hurt her. But she left me no choice. I had to make sure she was silenced."

Following his absurd logic only led to more questions instead of answers. She fought to keep her head from swaying and her feet under her. Escaping would never happen if she toppled over. If she fell to the ground, she wouldn't have the strength to make it back up. "It was Stella's fault she was murdered?"

He glared.

Jenna pinched the bridge of her nose, the amount of effort it took to move her arm sending waves of panic through her body. "What did you do to me?"

He laughed. "If you'd just relax, you'd like it. Don't fight it."

Dropping her arm to her side, her mouth gaped. "Fight what? The drugs coursing through my veins? The nausea pitching in my stomach?" Or the disgust lining her gut as a picture of who Father Bowman was formed in her mind. He wasn't just a killer, he was a predator.

A smirk played on his lips. He stepped closer, erasing any distance between them, and ran the tip of his finger along her arm. "We both know you aren't making it out of here alive. You know too much. But we can at least have a little fun first."

Sweat dotted her hairline. She searched for anything she could use for help.

Nothing.

Snippets of information clicked into place. "What did Stella do that got her killed?"

He trailed his finger up her arm, over her neck, and across her jawline. "None of that matters now."

The room started spinning. Jenna reached for the back of the pew beside her to steady herself. "It does matter. Did your relationship with Stella end badly? Did she find out what a bastard you are? Why did you have to kill her?"

He lowered his mouth to her ear. His hot breath skimmed over her face. "She found out what I really wanted from her."

"And what was that?"

"She found out I was using her to get revenge on you."

Jenna bit into her lip to stop the tears threatening to spill from her eyes. She wouldn't give into the terror, into the gut-punching desire to cower. She'd never give him the satisfaction. Sucking in a shuddering breath, she let her heavy eyelids fall and brought forth an image of Calvin and Oliver. Her only regret that she'd never get to live a life with her two favorite guys, together as one happy family.