Page 56 of Jenna's Threatened Sanctuary

He slammed his fist against the hard wood, keeping his ears tuned for approaching footsteps.

Nothing.

Maybe a back door was left unlocked for the public during the week instead of the giant oak doors. He trotted down the stairs and ran to the back of the building. A narrow stairwell dipped under the ground, probably access to a basement.

He took the steep stairs two at a time. The musty scent of damp earth filled his nostrils. He grabbed the round knob on the weathered door and turned, but it didn’t move. Shoving a hand through his hair, he ran over his options. Could Jenna have met Father Bowman somewhere other than the church?

Possible. But why tell Mrs. Collins that’s where she’d be if she planned to meet the priest somewhere else?

Running back up the stairs, his blood thundered in his ears. He approached the huge windows that lined the space he assumed was the sanctuary. He cupped his hand above his eyes and pressed his nose to the glass. The manipulated glass made it impossible to see inside.

A faint shadow shifted. He squinted, trying to make out the shape. A figure rose then darted a few feet away, only to returnto the same spot. The vague outline of another figure huddled beside it. His heart lodged in his throat. His instincts screamed.

Jenna!

His phone rang, and he yanked it from his pocket without glancing at the screen. “Hello? Jenna?”

“It’s Cruz. Is everything all right? You sound a little frazzled.”

“I am,” he said, tightening his jaw. “I’m at the church looking for Jenna. She came to talk to Father Bowman about Stella’s funeral, but I can’t get inside. Everything’s locked.”

“Calvin, I need you to stay calm and listen. I just uncovered that Father Bowman used to be married to Tracey Mayfield.”

Shock stole his movements. His hand fell to his side. “The woman who died from the car accident? The case Dr. Kent was involved in?”

“Tracey Mayfield’s death involved Jenna, as well as Dr. Kent who you two interviewed, and Dr. Church. Too many connections to ignore. I’ve spent the morning wading through what happened. Tracey hadn’t gotten around to changing her last name, so no one tied her to Father Bowman. They were on their honeymoon, driving across country, when she was in the car accident that took her life. He joined the priesthood shortly after. Father Bowman may be very dangerous.”

Alarm blasted a screeching warning inside him. “I’m getting in this church one way or another.”

“I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t do anything stupid. I’m on my way.”

Calvin disconnected, ran back up the front steps, and rammed his shoulder against the door. Cruz must have already come to the same conclusion—Father Bowman was a murderer.

And he had Jenna trapped inside.

Jenna blinked,retraining her focus on Father Bowman. She cleared her throat and tried to force words that kept getting stuck in her hazy brain. Blood moved like thick sludge in her veins. She tried to stand, but her knees buckled. Dizziness swarmed her like a pack of angry wasps. She cradled her head in her hands, adding pressure to the pounding against her skull.

“You don’t look well. Let’s get you in my office and call for help.” Father Bowman cupped his large hand under her elbow and propped her onto her feet.

Fear bit into her, swift and paralyzing. Being alone with him in the sanctuary of the church was bad enough. If he got her alone in his office, she’d never escape. She rooted her heels in the wooden planks. “I need fresh air.”

“Let me at least help you outside.” Tightening his grip, he pulled her harder.

She stumbled forward, latching on to him to keep herself up right. Once steady, she let go and yanked from his grasp. “No. I’m fine.”

Father Bowman chuckled. “What’s going on, Jenna? Are you upset with me?”

She straightened, summoning as much strength as she could on her shaky legs. “Were you at Stella’s office the other day?” He wasn’t going to let her walk away. She needed to get him talking, distract him, so she could come up with a plan.

He cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowed. “Why are you so obsessed with my relationship with Stella?”

She widened her stance, hoping to anchor herself. “Because you claim you barely knew her, and I don’t buy it.”

He ran a hand over his mouth and stepped closer. “Even if I knew Stella well, why would I be in her office? After her death?”

Jenna shrugged. “To look for the cards you wrote her.”

Red colored Father Bowman’s naturally bronzed complexion. His jaw tightened. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

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