Mitch moved to the rope Tobias had been winding. He activated his lenses and took a few pictures.
“There was no rope at the scene,” Salvi commented quietly.
Mitch threw her a glance as he deactivated his lenses. “No, but fibers like this cling to jumpers like the one Tobias is wearing.”
Tobias came back with flushed red cheeks. “Um, w-where would you like to talk?”
“Let’s head out front,” Mitch said, and led the way.
“So how did you know Sharon?” Mitch asked.
“We went to school together,” he said, eyes wide like a child, the shock still enveloping him. “We’re both members of the Children of Christ Junior Corps.” He motioned vaguely to the large white monolith standing on the opposite side of the street. “I saw her at church all the time. We helped make clothes for poor communities in Africa. Sh-she worked at the vet next door.” As he pointed to the vet, Salvi noticed how much his hands were shaking.
“So you spent a lot of time with her?” Mitch asked.
Tobias nodded, his blue eyes welling with tears, troubled against his pale and freckled skin.
“How much time?” Mitch asked.
Tobias shrugged. “A-a lot, I guess.”
“Was she your girlfriend?” Mitch asked.
Tobias looked away. Salvi couldn’t tell if it was through shame or embarrassment. “No.”
“Pretty girl like that?” Mitch said. “You didn’t think to ask her out?”
Tobias glanced back at him, a look of hurt or maybe anger flashing in his eyes before he looked away again. “That’s not what we do here.”
“What, you can’t have a girlfriend?” Mitch asked. “What’s wrong with that? What’s wrong with being in love?”
Tobias didn’t answer, kept his eyes on the ground.
“Did Sharon have another boyfriend?” Mitch asked. “Was that it?”
“No,” Tobias said quickly. “She wasn’t like that!” His face looked tortured, like a sharp pain was running right through him.
“Do you know of anyone who would wish her harm?” Salvi asked.
Tobias shook his head, trying hard to contain his emotion. Salvi felt for him. He’d just found out his friend was dead, and it was clear he didn’t know how to release his pain. Or whether he was allowed to release it.
“We need a list of all the friends you knew she had,” Mitch said bluntly, taking a Noteb00k from his pocket and handing it to Tobias. The young man eyed the small, rectangular pane of glass as though it might burn his skin at the touch, then he glanced around nervously to see who might be witnessing him holding such a device. Mitch reached out and activated it, and the screen came to life as its keyboard display lit up. “Type the names into that, and while you’re at it, you can note down where you’ve been these past few days.”
Tobias held the Noteb00k in his shaking hands. “Where I’ve been? You think I…?”
Mitch stared at him. “We’d just like to know where you’ve been these past few days.”
“I-I’ve been working here all week,” Tobias said, motioning back to the hardware store.
“When did you last see Sharon?” Salvi asked.
Tobias thought for a moment. “A couple of days ago.”
“Where?” Mitch asked.
“At the Children of Christ. Then we had pizza afterwards.” He looked away again. Salvi was sure this time it was in shame.
“So you work next door to Sharon,” Mitch said, “you both attend the Children of Christ, and you hang out in your spare time and eat pizza. It’s fair to say you were very good friends, then?”
She saw a haunted look on Tobias’ face as he nodded, still avoiding eye contact with either of them.
“You’re good friends and yet you didn’t see or speak to her for a couple of days? Is that normal?”
“I-I was busy,” he said quietly.
“It’s a small town. You didn’t run into her? You didn’t call her at all during that time?” Mitch asked.
Tobias glanced around nervously. “I called her, but she didn’t answer. I thought… I thought…” His voice trailed off.
“You thought what?”
“I thought she must’ve been busy.” His face screwed up as he fought to contain the tears that wanted to pour from him. “I should’ve checked on her,” he whispered, as his eyes fell to the ground again, flooding with tears. “If I’d kn-known…” He raised his arm up and wiped the sleeve of his jumper across his eyes.
“If you’d known what?” Mitch asked.
Tobias sniffed and continued to wipe his eyes. He swallowed hard to clear his throat. “If I’d known she was in trouble.”
“You have absolutely no idea who might’ve done this to her?” Mitch pressed.
Tobias shook his head. “No. I… I can’t believe she’s gone…”
“We’re sorry for your loss, Tobias,” Salvi said gently, “but we need your help to find who did this to her.”
“Start typing those names,” Mitch pushed. “And be aware that your fingerprints will be recorded as you do it.”
Tobias looked up at Mitch with wet, red eyes.
Salvi threw Mitch a look, then glanced back at Tobias. “I’ll go check your hours with your boss.”
Salvi and Mitch stood beside the Raider watching a shaky Tobias leave. Mitch put the Noteb00k back into his pocket.
“His alibi checks out,” Salvi told him. “He’s been working full time at the store.”
“Well that covers the day. What about the night?” Mitch said looking at her.
“Weston estimated the time of death as between 2pm and 6pm.” Salvi shrugged. “He looked genuinely shocked to hear of her death. But I did get the feeling he was hiding something.”
“Me too. Let’s let him squirm for a bit, then we’ll question him again.”
“Alright. Let’s go find her other friend, Ellie Felling,” Salvi said.
They moved toward the café next door. The pristine window displays showed plastic cakes and cups of coffee and synthetic flowers, laid neatly on clean white embroidered cloths with rosary beads placed either side like an offering. As they opened the door, a song began to play in what sounded to Salvi like chipmunk voices.
“We welcome you! We welcome you! Have a wonderful day!”
Mitch winced a little and Salvi smiled thinking the song must grate with his hangover. They moved into the café and saw pastel blue booths along the sides and round wooden tables in the middle. Several people sat strewn about the tables as the tinkling of crockery sounded, and a religious hymn played softly in the background.
“Good morning,” a tall woman, around 5’11”, said cautiously from behind the counter at the far end. She was stick thin and plain faced, with her graying brown hair pulled back tightly in a bun. “Take a seat and someone will be with you shortly.”
The other café patrons looked at them warily, eyeing them up and down.
“We’d like to see Ellie Felling,” Mitch said as he approached the woman. “Is she working today?”
“Yes, she is. She’s out back on a break. Is everything alright?” The woman’s brow creased in concern as she wiped her hands on her pastel pink apron.
“We’d just like a chat. Is she out this way?” Mitch pointed toward a door behind the woman.
The woman stared at them, her hollow cheeks and beady eyes darting between the two like a bird nervously eyeing a potential predator. “May I ask who you are?”
Mitch did the introductions as they tapped their badges. The café fell so silent, Salvi could hear herself breathe. Even over the soft hymn playing in the background. She glanced around at the faces, all eyes fixed to the holograms projecting from their chests.
“We’d just like a chat,” Salvi reiterated Mitch’s words with a calm tone to her voice.
“Yes. OK. She’s this way.” The woman waved them forward past the kitchen to a doorway that led out the back of the café.
Sitting on an upturned milk crate with her
nose in a paperback was a young girl of Asian descent. She wore a pink blouse and skirt beneath her waitress apron, comfortable shoes, and her socks were pulled up to her knees.
“Ellie?” the woman said. “These people would like to speak with you.”
Ellie looked up from her book. She folded the corner of the page she was on and stood, curious about the visitors in black.
“Yes?” she smiled at them, displaying a fine set of braces. Barely 5’1” and very childlike, she seemed much younger than Sharon Gleamer. “How can I help you?”
Salvi and Mitch showed their badges again.
“Oh.” Ellie’s face took on a look of concern. “You’re from the city.”
“Yes,” Salvi said. She introduced themselves then proceeded to break the news about Sharon’s murder. The woman from the café gasped in horror at the news, quickly marking a sign of the cross over herself.
“Murdered?” Ellie’s voice wavered, eyes and mouth gaping wide as she looked up at them. “Here in Bountiful?”
“I’m afraid so.” Salvi nodded.
Ellie’s face fell much like Tobias’ and she slumped back down to the crate, the book falling from her hands to ground.
“When did you last see her?” she asked gently.
“Yesterday,” Ellie said, hand to her mouth as tears fell. “At the Children of Christ. We had our youth group meeting.”
“What time was this?” Mitch asked.
“Three o’clock. We finished at four.”
“What did you do after that?”
“I went home to do my chores.”
“When you last saw Sharon how did she seem to you?” Salvi asked.
“She was fine,” Ellie said, then paused and tilted her head slightly. “Well… maybe she was maybe a little quiet.”
“What do you mean by quiet?” Salvi asked.
“She was always… so bubbly,” she said. “She was always smiling. But she was a little flat yesterday.”
“Did you ask her why?”
Ellie shook her head as tears fell. “But Preacher Vowker did. I heard Sharon say she wasn’t feeling well. I’d noticed she’d been a little off for a few days.”
“Off?”
Ellie nodded. “She hadn’t been herself.”
“You don’t know why?”
Ellie shook her head, then dropped her eyes to the ground.
“Ellie, if you know something you should tell us,” Salvi said, placing her hand on the girl’s shoulder. “No matter how small. It could help.”
The girl looked up at Salvi, mouth scrunching into sobs. “I don’t know… We weren’t speaking to each other.”
“Why?”
“We had a fight. It was a silly fight…”
“What did you fight about?” Salvi asked.
“It was silly…” She shook her head, tears raining down now.
Salvi squeezed the girl’s shoulder. “You can tell us, Ellie. We won’t judge you.”
“No,” the girl said softly, shaking her head. “Only the Lord can.”
Salvi felt her stomach tighten at the girl’s words. “So, what were you fighting about?” she gently pushed.
Ellie looked at her with wet eyes. “I was upset because she hadn’t been spending much time with me. It was so silly.” Ellie curled over, placing her head into her hands.
Salvi crouched and wrapped her arm around the girl’s shoulder. “It’s OK, Ellie. That must’ve been tough on you. Who was she spending her time with?”
The girl glanced at the café owner.
“Ellie?” Salvi verbally nudged. “Who?”
The girl looked nervously at Salvi. “Tobias Brook,” she said quietly.
Salvi nodded. “How much time were they spending together?”
“A lot,” she cried. “She didn’t seem to have time for me at all any more. It was so silly.”
As the girl began to rain more tears, Salvi looked to the café owner and motioned her to step forward and care for the girl. As the woman stepped forward, Salvi reached down to pick up Ellie’s paperback. It was a Christian adventure series. On the cover stood a saint surrounded by teenage girls and boys smiling with excitement at the mission that lay ahead of them. She passed the book to Ellie, who took it, sniffing and wiping her face.
“She’s really gone?” Ellie whispered looking up at her. “She’s really dead?”
Salvi nodded. “I’m afraid so.”
The woman moved to comfort Ellie, wrapping her arms around her.
“If you think of anything, Ellie,” Salvi said, “anything at all, you call me, OK?” She reached in her pocket and handed over a contact card. It was old and slightly crinkled at the edges. In the city, it was rare to have to hand over paper cards like this, but every now and then they’d come across someone on a tech diet and it was the only way of exchange.
Ellie took the card and nodded. As Salvi and Mitch left, the woman took the girl’s hand and said: “Come, child. We must pray for Sharon’s soul.”
“What do you think?” Mitch said. “A teenage love triangle? Or maybe Sharon pissed them both off and Tobias and Ellie ganged up on her to exact their revenge.”
Salvi shrugged. “Even if it was true, I don’t think Ellie could’ve done that to Sharon. She didn’t look like she could even hurt a fly. But I guess it could’ve just been for show.”
“She was definitely crying with guilt.”
“Yeah,” Salvi said. “Religion tends to be good at making people feel guilty for things.”
Mitch glanced at her, then looked across the street at the church. “I think it’s time we pay the Children of Christ a visit and talk to Preacher Vowker,” he said.
Salvi glanced at the looming white church facing her, then back to Mitch, and plucked the Noteb00k from his coat pocket. “Why don’t you do that, and I’ll go chat to some of the other names Tobias gave us,” she suggested, and began scrolling through the list.
“Salvi, this is a religious town and Sharon, Tobias and Ellie spent a lot of time there. That’s where we start.”
“So, you start there, and I’ll start on this list Tobias gave us.”
Mitch plucked the Noteb00k back from her hands. “There’ll be too many at the church for me to question alone. Come on.” And with that he turned and departed. She watched him for a moment, then hesitantly followed.
Salvi approached the church with a heavy reluctance. It was stupid, she knew it. She was working a case, this was different. Still, once upon a time she’d sworn that she would never, ever, step inside another church, and now here she was. How many years had it been? Too many. Her heart kicked up a notch and an anxiety rose within as she stared at it – rearing up in front of her like a cobra about to strike. It was like she and the building were two magnets and hers was the one fighting violently not to connect. She was about to break her vow. She didn’t want to, but she didn’t want to make a big deal about it in front of Mitch either. She took a subtle breath in, wiped her sweaty palms, and bit the feelings back. Like it or not, she was here to find Sharon Gleamer’s killer. It was a necessary measure.
They found the doors to the church were locked and she felt an instant sense of relief wash over her. Mitch motioned to the adjoining building, however, where broad double doors were open and welcoming. The sign on the building read “Bountiful Town Hall”, but Salvi noted they were not exclusive buildings. The Town Hall was very much an extension of the church as though they were one and the same. It wasn’t exactly surprising. This was a community founded on religion. In this town, the church and the state were very much united.
They made their way to the doors, and Mitch entered. Salvi hesitated a moment, glancing down at the building’s threshold. She felt that invisible force trying to stop her, trying to push her back again. But she ignored it, took a deep breath, and stepped over.
Before them she saw a large open space with fine polished wooden floors and rafters, cream walls, and a large statue of Jesus at one end that seemed to watch over the
room. His arms were extended, palms and eyes up, addressing the man upstairs. A group of people, mixed in age, were sitting together in a circle before Jesus, holding hands and praying. Their heads were lowered, their eyes closed. Along one side of the hall trestle tables were lined up with various bits of clothing and sewing machines. On the other side a coffee and tea station with baked goods.
One of the men in the circle seemed to sense them there and opened his eyes. If she was to pick a leader among them, it would be him. She guessed this was the preacher, Vowker. He studied them a moment, then stood, as the rest of the group eventually broke their prayers and looked over at them too.
“Keep praying,” the man urged gently, joining the two hands he’d been holding, before leaving the circle and moving toward them.
“Can I help you?” he asked, coming to a stop in front of them. Salvi picked him to be in his late fifties, around 6’ and close to 200 pounds. His face was soft, his eyes intelligent, and short curly hair sat snug around the sides of his skull as though nestling the bald patch above.
“Graham Vowker?” Mitch asked.
“Yes,” he said. “Is this about Sharon?”
Mitch nodded. “You’ve heard?”
“Yes,” he said solemnly, signing the cross. “Sheriff Holt called me immediately to comfort the parents. I stayed with them for a while then I came back here and called our volunteers to pray for her.”
Mitch nodded and went to light up his badge, but Vowker stopped him.
“Please,” he said, “we do not permit that in here.”
“We need to record all conversations,” Mitch said.
“We may speak, but not in here in front of my parishioners,” Vowker said, glancing back at the circle of praying townsfolk. “Do you mind if we take this elsewhere?”
“Not at all,” Mitch said.
“Please come through to my office.” Vowker turned and began to lead them over to a door on the right-hand side of Jesus.
They stepped through the doorway into a medium-sized room that seemed to be wedged between the hall and the church, essentially joining them. This was Vowker’s office. Or perhaps chamber was a better word. It had an expensive looking desk of dark wood on one side, and an area lined with his robes for mass on the other. Another closed door stood opposite the one they’d entered, which Salvi figured led directly to the church’s sanctuary. Again, she felt the internal struggle of that magnet pushing herself away. The preacher closed the door behind her, sealing the room, and she couldn’t help the feeling of suffocation that swept over her. Of claustrophobia. Of being trapped. The uneasiness of being so close to the church, to know it was just on the other side of that wall, and to want to run as far away from it as she could.
The Subjugate Page 4
