Page 15 of Spies Like Us

The other foster kids are sitting between us and them, while Jessica is sitting with Sophie, Michelle, and Lucy, so I suspect maybe Miller isn’t telling the truth, and this has more to do with me not getting too close to Ryland.

“What the hell?” I growl as he shoves me in and then sits down, effectively blocking me.

“Ryland would have been too distracted by your pretty tits. Now shut it and let me point out the players,” he mutters out of the side of his mouth without looking at me.

Huh, okay, a compliment! I feel like I should take his temperature or something, or maybe he’s decided to at least be professional so we can solve this case. He probably wants to get me as far away from his team as he possibly can.

“Okay.” My eyes follow his, and he’s looking at a pew across from where the Standishes sit. There is a man and a woman. The man is balding but broad shouldered. He’s sitting next to a petite, dark-haired woman. “That’s David Thompson and his wife, Lisa—Billy’s mom and dad.”

“So that’s the chief of police?”

“Yeah, we definitely think they are involved because of the falsified police reports.”

“The younger girls basically confirmed that. They were told that he was a regular at the sex club, which is why their foster sister was too scared to say anything. They didn’t say anything about his wife.”

Miller shakes his head, still not looking at me. “So far, we don’t suspect any of the wives… or at least there’s no reason for us to suspect them. Did they mention whether their foster sister had seen Ted or James?”

I shake my head. “No, and I’m pretty sure they would have told me if she mentioned it.”

“Hmm, I wonder if they never showed their faces when she was there, or if she was threatened to keep her mouth shut.”

“I bet they wore masks. There’s no way she would have left those girls there with a sexual predator if she knew. Foster kids are pretty big on protecting one another from what I understand.”

He grunts. “Yeah, some of them are, and some of them become predators.” He sounds bitter, and I can tell he’s speaking from experience, but I won’t push him. He will tell me if he wants me to know.

A woman walks up to the front. She’s wearing a lovely pale blue fitted dress with matching heels, hat, and clutch. She looks like the quintessential Stepford wife, with perfectly curled hair and artfully applied makeup. She could give my mother a run for poise and style. She greets Martha and June with a kiss on each cheek before greeting their husbands and sitting down in the remaining space.

“That’s Melissa Sweeny, the pastor’s wife.” I look closer and recognize her from the photo I saw of the original group.

My gaze goes back to Billy’s parents, and I find them talking to Brock Marshall, the slimeball guidance counselor.

“Okay, who else?” I ask, but before he can answer, the pastor steps up on the dais, and a hush falls over the church as the remaining stragglers find their seats.

Chapter 7

“Welcome!” The pastor spreads his hands in a welcoming gesture. He’s tall and seems slender under his robes, with perfectly parted blond hair that’s combed to the side. His white teeth are practically blinding as he smiles down at us. He’s the perfect Ken to Barbie it seems. “It’s lovely to see so many faces on this Sabbath. Let’s bow our heads and pray.”

Everyone does as he says, and he starts droning on. I don’t pay attention, but Miller nudges me and nods at a man in the pews across from us. “That’s Isaac Palmer. He’s the coast guard captain, and rumors say he and Matthew are lovers, but it’s only that, rumors. They don’t live together and are very rarely seen in public together, so I’m not sure how those rumors started.”

I snort quietly under my breath. “After Sophie’s little rant, I can’t imagine why,” I say sarcastically, and I reach out to give Miller’s hand a squeeze. It can’t be fun to have that kind of vitriol spewed at you. He allows me to give it a squeeze but removes it without any words. I guess that’s progress. “Isn’t he Charity’s ex? I’m sure someone told me that, and he used to be abusive. That screams trouble.”

“Yes, but now he’s married to the woman next to him, Lucinda.” There’s a slim, red-haired woman sitting next to him. Her hair is cut in a short bob just under her chin, but I can’t really see any facial features from here except for a flash of red lips. She’s wearing a tight black jumpsuit and high heels, and she sticks out like a sore thumb amongst all the other pastel wearing churchgoers. She’s also the only other one in the church who doesn’t have her head bowed like us. She’s studying her fingernails and looks bored as shit.

Movement in front of me has me turning away from the Palmers and to the pews in front of us. I can see Kevin and Charity sitting in the same pew as Max and Stella. They have a little boy with a cast on his arm sitting between them. That must be Charity’s son, Deacon. There is another couple sitting next to them, but I can only see their backs, so I’m not sure who they are or if I’d even recognize them.

“Who are those two next to Kevin and Charity?” I ask, nodding in that direction, but before he can answer, the prayer ends, and the congregation mutters their amens. The pastor starts his sermon, and Miller is silent while he drones on about morals and the path of righteousness, his gaze searching the room like he’s looking for something. He keeps talking, but when his eyes reach me, he stops looking around and focuses, like he’s directing the sermon straight at me. I tune in to what he’s saying, and he’s preaching about abstinence and purity and ridding ourselves of sins so we may go forward in life with God on our side. I have a feeling today’s sermon was specifically prepared to make the new member of the congregation feel so small and pathetic that any words of forgiveness from the pastor will be welcome and cherished. It feels prepared and rehearsed. I drop my head, like I feel shame, even though I can still feel his gaze on me.

Miller turns to look at me and chuckles quietly to himself. The pastor’s gaze goes from me to him, his eyes narrowing slightly before he moves past us.

“Wow, that was intense,” I comment.

“I would guess it’s safe to say you are on his radar.”

“Do we think he’s the ringleader?”

Miller shrugs his shoulders. “Not sure. Martha didn’t require me to confess my sins to him, but that might change if Sophie says anything to her mom about my and Ryland’s proclivities.” Miller is actually putting aside whatever animosity he holds toward me and being professional, and you could just about knock me over with a feather.

“You two aren’t hiding that anymore? Sophie sure seems to know all about it.”

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