Page 61 of Silent Prayer

"My God," Sheila murmured, taking in the scene. This was it—proof that Reeves was their killer. But where was he?

And more importantly, where was his next victim?

A sudden creak from upstairs made Sheila freeze. Her hand instinctively went to her weapon as she listened intently. Another creak, followed by the sound of footsteps.

Someone was in the house.

Sheila's heart raced as she quietly made her way back up the basement stairs. She'd left the door slightly ajar when she came down, and now she peered through the crack, trying to catch a glimpse of the intruder.

A shadow moved across the hallway. Sheila held her breath, her fingers tightening on her gun. The footsteps grew closer. Just as she was about to burst out and confront the unknown person, a familiar voice called out softly.

"Sheila? You in here?"

Relief washed over her. "Finn," she whispered, pushing the door open. "I'm here."

Finn appeared in the hallway, his own weapon drawn. He lowered it with a sigh. "I take it you didn't find him."

"No luck so far."

"Well, I've got bad news, too. Just got a report about a missing woman. Megan Philips. Apparently, she was taken outside some kind of seminar—witnesses saw a man grab her and put her in his trunk."

"Did they get a license plate?"

Finn shook his head grimly. "No, not much of a description, either. The kidnapping was witnessed by a couple of middle schoolers on bikes. They said the man was tall and wore dark clothing, but that's about it."

"Well, at least she's still alive," Sheila murmured. "Or was."

"Oh, and one other thing. This seminar? It was being held at a community center, the same one where Reeves teaches."

Sheila cursed under her breath. "I knew it. He's our guy."

"Now we just have to find him," Finn said. He gestured at the open basement door behind Sheila. "Find anything interesting?"

Sheila nodded. "Come on, I'll show you."

She led Finn down the steps. As his flashlight beam joined hers in illuminating the basement, she heard his sharp intake of breath.

"Shit," Finn muttered, taking in the altar and the strange symbols covering the walls. "He's the Coldwater Confessor, alright."

Sheila nodded grimly. "But he's not here. And neither is Megan."

They made their way back upstairs, both lost in thought. In the kitchen, Finn leaned against the counter, running a handthrough his hair. "Okay, let's think this through. If Reeves isn't here, where would he go? Where would he take Megan?"

Sheila paced the room. "He needs somewhere isolated, somewhere he won't be disturbed. But it also has to have some significance to him, to his twisted beliefs."

"What about going back to the community center?" Finn suggested. "That's where his group meets."

Sheila shook her head. "Too public. Even at night, there's a risk of someone walking in." She paused, a thought striking her. "Wait a minute. Reeves' wife—she was killed by lightning."

Finn studied her with a thoughtful frown. "You think that's connected to all this?"

"It has to be," Sheila said, her excitement growing. "That's probably what set him off, what made him start believing all this cosmic nonsense in the first place. We need to find out where it happened."

They began searching the house again, this time looking for any information about Helen Reeves' death. In Dr. Reeves' study, Sheila rifled through drawers while Finn scanned the bookshelves.

"Sheila," Finn called out suddenly. "Look at this."

He was holding a framed photo. It showed a younger Dr. Reeves with his arm around a smiling woman—presumably Helen. They were standing in front of a small cabin, trees visible in the background.

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