‘Ah, yes, one of my colleagues mentioned that name.Long story short, Edgar goes to meetings at the First Love Church on Flood Street.I think it’s something to do with his parole.’
‘Thank you, Patrice.’
Ella hung up and typedFirst Love Church Flood Street New Orleansinto the browser and found the website in three seconds.It was a single page with a simple photo of the church hall and a few paragraphs of text.
She scrolled down and saw it right there in black and white:
Tuesday evenings, 7:00 PM — 9:00 PM:Open Doors Support Group.A safe space for anyone struggling with addiction, grief, trauma, or coping with loss.All welcome.No referral needed.
Coping with loss.
Ella read it ten more times to make sure she wasn’t seeing things.
Amber Holloway lost her home.Rose Michaels lost her child.Eddie Foxall lost his ability to have children.Earl Parsons lost his mind.
Ella dialled First Love Church.It rang twice.
‘First Love, David speaking.’
‘David, this is Agent Dark with the FBI.I need to ask you about your Tuesday night group.Is Edgar Borden there tonight?’
The speaker paused.‘No, actually.He hasn’t shown up yet.That’s unusual for Edgar, he’s normally the first one through the door.Can I ask what this is about?’
‘David, I need you to listen to me carefully.I’m going to read you some names and I need you to tell me if any of them attended your group.This is a federal investigation and I can verify my identity with a call back to the FBI field office if you need me to.’
Another pause, longer this time.She could hear him weighing it up.Confidentiality versus a woman on the phone who sounded like she meant every word she was saying.
‘Go ahead.I’ll tell you whatever I can.’
‘Eddie Foxall.’
‘Yes.Eddie came to the group.’
Ella’s breath came short.‘Earl Parsons.’
‘Earl used to come.He stopped a few months back.I think the drive was getting too much for him.’
‘Rose Michaels?’
‘Not Rose, no.But her mother came.Julia, I think?’
‘And Amber Holloway?’
‘Hmm,’ David mumbled.‘No, I don’t know that name.’
Ella was gripping the phone to the point it hurt her fingers.Two of the victims had been at this group, one of the victim’s mothers had been to this group.All of them had walked into that parish hall on a Tuesday night, sat down in a circle of folding chairs, and opened their mouths about the worst thing that had ever happened to them.
And Edgar Borden had been right there.He’d probably listened to Eddie and Earl speak about their problems, and possibly heard Rose’s mother talk about her daughter’s hardships.Amber hadn’t been there, but if she’d given her music box to the donation center he worked at, the killer could have gotten Amber’s story straight from her.
‘David,’ Ella said.‘If Edgar Borden shows up tonight, do not approach him.Call 911 immediately.Do you understand?’
‘Yes ma’am.’
She thanked David and hung up.
Edgar Borden worked at the donation centre where the music box could have ended up.Edgar Borden attended the same support group as at least two of the four victims.Edgar Borden had been exposed to a manipulative psychopath inside Louisiana State Penitentiary.Edgar Borden had been released to the Ninth Ward, where the cell tower had pinged the killer’s phone.
Edgar Borden was the killer.
