Page 20 of The Girl and the Lies

“They said I was helping grow the army of the devil and I needed to quit. The other said to hire people who would overthrow Tracy or I would pay,” she says.

Leslie swallows hard, and I can see that even talking about the messages upsets her.

“Did you think they were genuine?” I ask.

“Not when I first got them. It just seemed too bizarre for something like that to happen. Especially because it wasn’t like there was a specific person or a group or anything mentioned in the notes. No one was taking credit for them or putting anything in them that made them stand out against the rest of the hate mail that comes through here just about every day. The only thing that was different was that they were coming to specific employees rather than just Tracy or the ministry in general. But now that Gideon has been murdered…”

“Are you considering quitting your position?” I ask.

Leslie suddenly straightens up, her spine going stiff and her chin lifting defiantly.

“No. I’ve been with Tracy since almost the beginning of her ministry. I’m not going to let someone take that away from me because they want to spook us,” she says.

I can see this woman is loyal to Tracy Ellis and believes what the speaker said about holding firm and not backing down. There’s no point in arguing with her. It won’t do any good.

“Please get in touch with me if you receive any other threats or anything does happen,” I tell her.

She nods, “I will.”

I hold up the sticky note as I stand. “Thank you again for this.”

No one is home when I get back to Eric and Bellamy’s house, so I let myself in using the spare key they gave me and go straight to the kitchen to make a snack. With a bowl of fresh fruit and another glass of iced tea, I sit down at the kitchen table to call Marcus Kelsey. I’m hoping he’ll agree to meet up with me and talk about what happened between him and Tracy Ellis, but after several rings, the voicemail picks up. I hang up and call again, but he still doesn’t pick up. I leave Marcus a message introducing myself and asking him to call me back.

Looking at the sticky note that Leslie gave me, I decide I’m not willing to just sit around and wait for Marcus to call me back. I have time before I need to meet with Ander at his house, so I’m going to use the listed address to my advantage and see if I can track Marcus down that way.

I finish my fruit and tea, send Bellamy a text to let her know my plans for the rest of the day, and head back out into the blazingly hot afternoon. Putting on my sunglasses and blasting the air-conditioning to keep me from melting, I input the address into my GPS and start the drive to Marcus Kelsey’s house.

Forty-five minutes later, I pull up in front of a small house in a neighborhood that reminds me of the ones built for the soldiers coming home after World War II. There are rows of houses of identical design and only differentiated by details like shutter color and decorations in the flower beds, precise little square yards.

There’s no car in the driveway, but there is a garage, so it’s possible Marcus is parked in there. I park at the curb in front of the house and walk up the driveway to the sidewalk leading to the front stoop. A “No Soliciting” sign is adhered to the door along with a handwritten note warning that the doorbell is broken and to knock. I follow instructions and wait for Marcus to open the door. I don’t hear anything coming from inside, and I knock again. There’s still no reaction, and I back up down the steps so I can try to peek in through the living room window. Curtains pulled tightly over it stop me from seeing anything inside the house.

As I’m walking back toward my car, I see the next-door neighbor setting up a sprinkler in the front lawn. I go around the car and down the street to stand in front of their house.

“Excuse me,” I say.

The man looks up from what he’s doing and notices me. He sets down the sprinkler and walks over.

“Yeah?” he asks. “Something I can do for you?”

I show him my shield and introduce myself. “I was wondering if you know your neighbor, Marcus Kelsey,” I say.

The man’s eyes swing over to Marcus’s house, and he shakes his head. “I don’t think we’ve exchanged ten words total as long as he’s lived here,” he says. “He’s not the type to stop and chat at the mailboxes or come by with a plate of cookies in the holidays, if you know what I mean.”

I don’t think there’s a lot of room for interpretation with that, but I nod anyway.

“All right. Thank you,” I say.

I get back in my car and check the time. I still have a couple of hours before the time that Ander sent me, but I don’t feel like going through the drive all the way back to Bellamy’s house only to turn back around and come out here again later. Instead, I look up the nearest library and head there.

The library is bustling with young families finding respite from the heat, but for the most part, the little children are in the children’s area playing with toys and reading picture books. I bypass that area and go to the information desk. A woman who looks like she was plucked out of a vintage movie looks up from the computer when I approach.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

“Are there study rooms I might be able to use?” I ask.

“Sure,” she says. “At the back of the library, there are five of them. If one is empty, you’re welcome to use it.”

“Thank you,” I say.

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