A leatherbound book fell to the floor. She picked it up and opened it, noticing a number of names and addresses written in a neat hand.

  "That's the pastor's address book," Tess said. "The 'original church directory' as he calls it. What did you say you needed to speak with Pastor Walden about?"

  "Nothing for you to worry about," Sheila reassured her, setting the address book aside. Her fingers deftly disconnected the last cord before she carefully placed the computer into a protective bag. Then she paused, growing thoughtful.

  "Can I ask you something?" she asked, shifting her attention back to the young woman.

  "Of course."

  "What do you think of Pastor Walden?"

  Tess hesitated, fidgeting with the tissue in her hands. "He's a good pastor, I guess. Cares about his congregation."

  "Is that all?" Sheila asked gently, sensing there was more beneath the surface. She knew the importance of gaining trust, especially when speaking with someone who might have valuable information.

  Tess bit her lip, her eyes darting around the room before landing on Sheila once more. "To be honest, I've always felt a little...uncomfortable around him."

  "Why's that?" Sheila asked.

  Tess sighed, as if releasing a burden she had been carrying for too long. "I don't know. He's just...he has a lot of secrets, I think. Things he doesn't want anyone to know about. I know that's part of counseling people—you can't go around telling everyone what you talked about."

  She paused and pursed her lips, choosing her words carefully. "But sometimes I suspect he has just as many secrets of his own."

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  "How do you think we should approach this?" Sheila asked Natalie, her voice low as they neared the interview room. "Good cop, bad cop?"

  They had just spoken with Finn, who was busily searching through the contents of the computer taken from Salvation Springs. Thus far, he'd found nothing incriminating. He was far from finished, however.

  Natalie pressed her lips together thoughtfully. "Let's see if he's willing to cooperate first. If he's not forthcoming, then we can switch gears."

  Sheila appreciated her sister's tactical mind, even if it sometimes served to remind her of the competitive streak that had always existed between them. She steeled herself, remembering the victims and the urgent need to find answers. They needed to get information from Pastor Walden, and she was ready to do whatever it took.

  Her hand hovered over the doorknob, her pulse quickening as she prepared herself for the confrontation. She glanced at Natalie, who gave a reassuring nod, and then she turned the handle. The door creaked open to reveal the small, windowless interview room.

  The walls, painted a sterile shade of gray, seemed to close in on them as they entered. A single flickering light hung above the table, casting eerie shadows that danced across the floor. In the center of the room, Pastor David Walden sat with an unexpected air of calmness, his hands folded neatly in his lap.

  "Pastor Walden," Sheila began, taking a seat across from him while Natalie positioned herself beside her sister. "Thank you for meeting with us."

  "Of course," he replied, his voice steady and confident. "I'll help in any way I can."

  Walden's placid demeanor threw Sheila off balance, and she found herself questioning whether this man could truly be connected to the brutal murders they were investigating. His blue eyes held no trace of deceit or fear, and his posture remained relaxed, betraying nothing.

  "We know Jennifer Bainbridge was a member of your congregation," Natalie said. "What about a woman named Hadley Ferguson?"

  Walden frowned. "Can't say I know the name. Should I?"

  Sheila studied Walden's face, searching for any sign of dishonesty. His forthright manner left her feeling uncertain, and she couldn't shake the nagging doubt that lingered in the back of her mind. Were they barking up the wrong tree? Or was he simply a master manipulator?

  "Can you think of anyone else within your congregation who might have had a motive to harm these women?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

  "Absolutely not," Walden replied, his eyes never leaving Sheila's. "I know my flock well, and I can assure you that none of them are capable of such heinous acts."

  Sheila's thoughts raced as she weighed the pastor's words. He seemed so genuine, but she knew better than to take people at face value in this line of work. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not when lives were at stake.

  "Pastor Walden," Natalie began, her tone shifting to a more personal note. "Could you tell us a bit about your own life—your marriage, perhaps? I can't help noticing your wedding ring."

  Sheila observed Walden's eyes soften as he nodded, taking a deep breath. "My wife, Sarah, and I were married for nearly fifteen years," he began, his voice tinged with melancholy. "She passed away almost ten years ago after a hard battle with stomach cancer. I can't seem to convince myself to stop wearing the ring, though."

  Natalie offered a sympathetic nod, her own expression mirroring the pastor's sorrow. "I'm sorry to hear that. It must have been a difficult time for you."

  "Indeed, it was," he admitted, his gaze lost in memories. "But my faith and my devotion to the church helped me through the darkest days. In a way, Sarah's passing made me even more dedicated to serving the Lord and my congregation. I still regret that we were never able to have children, though. It was one of the greatest disappointments of an otherwise-happy life together."

  "You wouldn't be familiar, then," Natalie asked, "with a dating app called Birds of a Feather?"

  Walden furrowed his brow, puzzled. "I'm afraid not. I've never heard of it."

  "That's interesting," Natalie mused, her eyes narrowing slightly, "because the computer in your office was used to create two profiles on that very app. Someone then logged into these profiles to communicate with two women who were later murdered, one of whom was Jennifer Bainbridge."

  At this revelation, Walden's complexion paled, his lips parting as if he wanted to speak but no words came forth. His placid demeanor crumbled, replaced by a sudden vulnerability that left Sheila questioning everything she had seen so far.

  Natalie leaned forward, her gaze locked onto Walden's now pale face. "Are you sure you don't know what I'm talking about?" she asked.

  Walden's eyes flickered between the two sisters, but he remained silent, his hands clasped tightly together on the table. Sheila studied his expression, searching for any signs of deception or guilt. The sudden silence unnerved her, and she found herself questioning whether this was an admission or simply fear.

  "Pastor Walden," Natalie pressed, her patience wearing thin. "What are you hiding from us? What don't you want to say?"

  Still, he said nothing. His lips were pressed into a thin line, and the knuckles of his clasped hands had turned white from the pressure. The more Walden refused to speak, the more Sheila felt a nagging suspicion that perhaps he wasn't the killer, but rather protecting someone else.

  "Very well, Pastor," Natalie sighed, exasperated. She gave him one last penetrating look before pushing back from the table and turning her wheelchair toward the door. "We'll give you some time to think about what you want to say."

  Sheila followed her sister out of the room, casting a final glance at Walden as the door clicked shut behind them. In the hallway, Natalie's frustration was palpable, her fingers gripping the wheels of her chair tightly.

  "What do you think, Sheila?" she asked, her voice low and tense.

  Sheila hesitated for a moment, weighing her thoughts. "I don't know, Nat. I can't shake the feeling that maybe he's protecting someone. That computer could have been used by anyone in the church."

  Natalie's eyes narrowed, distrust lingering in her gaze. "He could be the killer, Sheila. We can't rule him out just because he seems like a nice guy. We need to keep digging."

  "Of course," Sheila agreed, her mind racing with possibilities. "But we should also consider the possibility that someone else is involved. We can't afford to overlook anything."

  They continued down the hallway to another room where Finn was hunched over the computer seized from the church, his brow furrowed in concentration. The blue glow of the screen highlighted the intensity in his eyes. Sheila could feel the urgency in the air as they approached him.

  "Find anything new, Finn?" she asked, her voice cutting through the silence like a knife.

  Finn glanced up from the screen, rubbing his temples. "There are several user profiles on this computer, which suggests multiple people had access to it," he explained, his voice tinged with frustration. "And there's some stuff on here that Walden probably didn't download himself, like rock music."

  Sheila's heart raced as she considered the implications. If other people had access to the computer, it strengthened her suspicion that Walden might be protecting someone else. But who?

  Before she could voice her thoughts, however, Natalie's phone rang, its shrill tone slicing through the tension in the room. She excused herself and stepped away to take the call, her expression taut with anticipation.

  Sheila watched her sister intently, trying to read her body language as she listened to the voice on the other end. She felt an uneasy knot forming in her stomach, knowing that whatever news Natalie received could have a significant impact on their investigation.

  Natalie finished the call and returned to Sheila and Finn, her eyes darkened with concern. "A young woman named Heather Landow was just abducted," she said, her voice grim. "Apparently she met a guy online, but when he showed up for their date, he was angry, yelling incoherently at her. Then he threw her into the trunk of his car and drove off."

  The room seemed to grow colder at the revelation, the shadows deepening as they all grappled with the weight of the information.

  "And you're sure this is related to our investigation?" Sheila asked.

  "Guess what app they met on," Natalie said.

  "Birds of a Feather?"

  Natalie nodded. "You really think that's a coincidence, given the timing?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

  Sheila's eyes bore into the reflection of Pastor David Walden as he sat, stoic and unyielding, behind the cold metal table. The fluorescent light overhead cast eerie shadows on his face, highlighting the lines of age and unease. Her heart raced with frustration and worry, her hands clenched into fists at her sides.

  He knows something about that damn computer, she thought. But he won't tell us what he knows because he's protecting whoever the real killer is.

  After hearing that another woman had been abducted, Sheila had wanted to rush out of the building and race over to the scene of the abduction. Natalie, however, had calmly explained to her that nobody knew where the abductor had gone, and their best bet at making progress was to stick with Pastor Walden and try to figure out who had created the dating profiles on the church computer.

  Staring at Walden's face, though, it was difficult to imagine they'd get much information from him.

  "Natalie, I'm telling you," she said, "Walden's protecting the killer. That's his only part in this."

  Natalie regarded her with skepticism, but concern flickered in her eyes. "Sheila, I know you want to find Heather, but we can't jump to conclusions. It's equally possible that Walden is working with the killer. Just because we know he didn't abduct Heather doesn't mean he's not directly involved."

  Sheila shook her head insistently. "Walden's not that kind of person. Does he seem capable of such violence to you?"

  "Appearances can be deceiving." Despite Natalie's words, however, there was a note of doubt in her voice. Sheila could tell that Natalie, too, recognized Walden's pacific nature, his gentleness. If he was acting, he deserved an Oscar.

  Finn, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, cleared his throat. "For what it's worth, I think Sheila's onto something. Walden is used to keeping others' secrets—he's probably counseled dozens, if not hundreds, of people in his church over the years. Maybe he considers it his duty to protect whoever was using that computer."

  "You're still bound by law to report a crime," Natalie said.

  "By law, yes," Finn said. "But by conscience? Maybe not. Not if he's protecting someone he really cares about."

  Natalie, looking suddenly tired, passed a weary hand over her face.

  "Are you okay?" Sheila asked. She knew Natalie had been working hard, but it was unusual to see her sister looking so…spent.

  "I'm fine," Natalie said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Listen, even if you're right about Walden, he hasn't said a word since we brought him in. The bottom line is we need to find a way to make him talk."

  Pursing her lips, Sheila turned her attention back to Walden, who sat motionless in the interrogation room. Who was he protecting? She recalled their first encounter at his church, where he had spoken passionately about their foster care program. He had seemed genuinely invested in helping the children who came through his doors.

  Then she recalled something else Walden had said when talking about his marriage to his now-deceased wife—how he regretted not being able to have children with her. Suddenly it all clicked.

  "What if he's protecting someone he's fostered?" Sheila asked, her heart rate kicking up a notch. "He wanted to have a child of his own, but couldn't, so it only makes sense that he and his wife would try fostering. It's like what Finn said—he's probably protecting someone he really cares about. Cares about like a son, you might say."

  Natalie sat back, studying her thoughtfully.

  As Sheila paced the small room, her mind raced with the implications of her new theory. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were close to cracking the case wide open. Her eyes flicked between Natalie and Finn, both looking weary but alert.

  "Is there any way we can find who he might have fostered?" she asked.

  Finn nodded thoughtfully. "We could check the computer we seized from his office. It's possible there're records about the church's foster program on there."

  "Let's do it."

  They hurried down the hallway and into the office where the computer from Salvation Springs was set up. Finn quickly navigated through several files as Sheila looked over his shoulder, biting her lip in anticipation. Natalie leaned against a nearby table, her fingers gripping the wheelchair’s armrests tightly.

  "Come on," Sheila whispered under her breath, willing the computer to reveal its secrets. Her pulse quickened, and she felt a mix of fear and excitement. What if they found the key to solving the mystery? Or what if they found nothing at all?

  "Okay, I think I've got something here," Finn said, opening a folder labeled 'Gentle Hands Foster Program.'

  Sheila's heart leaped, and she held onto Finn's chair, leaning in to see the screen more clearly. She silently prayed that this would be the breakthrough they needed—that this would lead them to the answers they had been searching for so desperately.

  "Let's see who you've been protecting, Walden," she murmured as Finn opened a file labeled 'Russel J. Cook.' The screen filled with text and images, painting a vivid picture of a young man whose life had been fraught with pain and hardship.

  "Looks like Russel's biological father was an abusive alcoholic," Finn murmured. "Abused Russel and his mother regularly."

  Sheila's stomach churned as she scanning the images of a young boy—bruised, battered, and broken. It was a stark reminder of the darker side of human nature, one she wished she could forget.

  "His mother eventually died from her injuries," Finn continued, his voice heavy with emotion. "That's when Russel entered the foster system. He was just eleven years old."

  Sheila clenched her fists, fighting back tears. Eleven. No child should have to endure such horrors, let alone be thrust into an unfamiliar world without the love and support of their family. The injustice of it all burned within her, fueling her resolve to find the truth.

  "Looks like Walden took Russel in when he was fourteen," Finn said, scrolling through the documents. "He's been with him for the past six years."

  "Six years," Sheila whispered, her mind reeling with the new information. A bond like that would be powerful, perhaps powerful enough for Walden to protect Russel even from the consequences of murder.

  "That makes Russel twenty years old," Finn said, his eyes narrowing as he pieced together the puzzle. "Fits our profile for the killer, don't you think?"

  Natalie nodded, saying nothing. Her jaw was tight, and she looked to Sheila like she was just barely holding herself together. She's just tired, Sheila told herself. We all are.

  "Does it say anything about where he might be now?" she asked.

  "Actually, yes," Finn replied, his fingers tapping away at the keyboard. "According to these records, it appears that Russel still lives with Walden. I think I can find their home address—got it."

  Sheila could hardly contain her excitement as she paced the small room, adrenaline coursing through her veins. She clenched and unclenched her fists, ready to take action. Finn grabbed his jacket, nodding at her with determination in his eyes.

  "Let's go," he said, a steely resolve audible in his voice.

  Sheila followed Finn out of the room. She had gone only a few paces, however, before she realized Natalie wasn't following them. She turned around. "Nat?" she asked, surprised.

  Natalie rolled out of the room slowly. "You two go ahead without me," she said.

  "What? Why?"

  "Someone needs to stay here and keep an eye on Walden," Natalie replied, offering a tight-lipped smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Besides, I have some paperwork to catch up on."

  Sheila hesitated, sensing that there was something more going on than what Natalie was saying. But with the urgency of the situation pressing down on her, she couldn't afford to spend any more time trying to decipher her sister's true motives.

  "Alright, but call us if anything happens," Sheila said, her brow furrowed with concern.

  "Of course," Natalie assured her. "Now, go! You don't have much time."

  Sheila hesitated a moment longer. Then, realizing her sister would not be dissuaded, she hurried off.