Page 45 of Thief of Night
And, of course, a reminder she had a shift that night.
Yawning, Charlie deleted the messages. She needed to focus on the job that mattered. Get Mr. Punch his answers. Which meant getting into that church. Hatfield was a small town and while they might give leeway to or even gossip with someone in the community, they weren’t going to do that for her.
So she had to become someone they’d talk with. Loading up the Grace Covenant Church Facebook page, she scrolled through messages until she found the reverend, Kevin Powers, and a part-time office assistant, Melissa Svoboda. Charlie copied the church contact information into her phone, looked up a few more facts, and then called.
“I’m Carli Bradwell with CMIC following up on a claim,” Charlie said, talking fast. “Is this the office of the Grace Covenant Church?”
“Yes?” a-person-who-Charlie-hoped-was-Melissa said, sounding a little confused. “Who did you say was calling?”
“CMIC,” Charlie repeated. “Church Mutual Insurance Company. Your insurance agents.” At least Charlie figured they probably were. They were the biggest company insuring churches on the East Coast.
“Oh! I didn’t realize,” Melissa said. “Of course.”
“We’ve been looking over your policy and there’s a problem with your claim. You’re not covered for any kind of biohazard cleanup. Blood could, unfortunately, be considered a biohazard. Plus there’s the issue that no one on the policy was there at the time these people were doing whatever it was they were doing.”
“They weren’t a cult. They were adiscussion group,” Melissa snapped. “This is a tragedy and you’re seriously saying you can’t help us, after always paying our premiums on time? Your company insures churches; where is the compassion?”
Charlie guessed that church administrative assistant was a thankless position. Everyone wanted to be a hero—Charlie was going to give her a chance to be one. “I think we can do something under the vandalism and criminal acts part of your policy. You’re covered for that.” After a careful pause she went on. “But I still need to come and take pictures. I need to assess how much damage there really is and present the information to my supervisor.”
“And they’ll cover it?” Melissa asked.
“I want to help make that happen, I swear. Can I come tomorrow? It won’t take a lot of time.”
“I’m afraid that tomorrow isn’t going to work,” Melissa said, sounding a little panicked. “No one is going to be here. Unfortunately, we’re closing up the church for a few weeks, starting tonight.”
Charlie’s heart sank.
“You could come now, though,” said the woman. “The reverend is already away with family, but I can stay a little late. Would that work?”
Charlie leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. Yes! “I can do that, I suppose,” she said, trying to keep her voice neutral. “I’ll have to move some appointments around.”
Melissa thanked her effusively.
After Charlie got off the phone, she did a victorious dance around the kitchen, jerking to a halt when she noticed Red watching her from the doorway.
“You could charm a wolf away from a steak dinner,” he said.
“I sure could,” she agreed, going to pour herself a second, celebratory cup of coffee.
17I Plan on Dying in Your Arms
Red drove, one hand easy on the wheel, the other on the gearshift.
From the passenger seat, Charlie texted Fiona her regrets, pleading a sore throat. She was glad for an excuse to weasel out of sitting across from the intimidating old lady.
In black slacks, a white button-down, and a green sweater, Charlie hoped she looked the part of an insurance adjuster. She swiped concealer over her bruise, along with mascara and a little blush. She’d found some small golden hoops to stick in her ears, but was reluctant to take off the onyx. In the end, she left them on. They were neutral enough.
Between texting and attaching the forms she’d printed out at Staples to the clipboard (also purchased at Staples), she didn’t notice they’d pulled into a gas station until they were stopping. The realization hit Charlie like a punch to the gut. This was where Rose had promised to leave Red a message.
He got out, went to the pump, then hesitated. He had his wallet in one hand and the black card he got from Adeline in the other. A muscle jumped in his jaw and his fingers curled around the card so tightly that Charlie was afraid it would cut into his skin.
She leaned across the driver’s seat, then pushed a button to roll down his window. “Everything okay?”
“I’m going to pay inside. You want anything?”
Inside, where it would be easy for Red to slip into the bathroom and get the address. And yet, he hadn’t behaved like someone who planned on leading her to her doom. Who fixed someone’s coffeepot before they murdered them?
Someone who felt guilty about doing the murder, she supposed.
