Page 142 of Finding Noah

“That I know of,” she said. “Well, except the restaurant he went to with Charlie and Stormy.”

Soldier uttered a quiet, contemplative sound. “Something tells me this is more of a critical piece of the puzzle than dinner.”

“Yeah,” Meg said, acknowledging the roiling in her stomach that was not at all related to her pregnancy. “Me too.”

Days earlier, Meg had spoken to the police. She knew they'd been here, that they'd questioned the directors, but they had said it was a dead end and to let it go, to think harder, deeper, for any other possible leads. But as she and Soldier climbed the steps and walked the wraparound porch until they reached the grand front entrance, she couldn't ignore the whispering in her head that said she was exactly where she was supposed to be.

And it made her want to run far, far away.

Soldier opened the door, and together, they entered the building, stepping into a pristine foyer. The scent of flowers was heavy, and that queasiness she had been feeling morphed into something she couldn’t blame on hormones.

“Oh God,” she groaned, holding a hand over her mouth.

“You okay?” Soldier asked in a low voice, though his voice seemed to boom throughout the quiet building.

Forcing deep breaths in and out of her lungs, Meg waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, I think … I think I'm okay. Just … the flowers are making me—”

“Hi there.”

A tall man in a black turtleneck and matching trousers appeared from a hallway to the side of a long, winding staircase. He wore a friendly smile that didn't immediately make Meg want to think he was capable of homicide, but that didn't mean he wasn't.

“Hey, man. How are you?” Soldier replied casually, outstretching a hand toward him.

“All right. Can't complain,” the man responded as he accepted the gesture, friendly enough. “What can I do for you folks?”

Swallowing against the wave of nausea, Meg looked up at the man. “We're looking for a man who was here last weekend,” she said, stepping into the conversation without a hint of well meaning in her tone. She willed her hands to be steady as she pulled a picture of Noah from her pocket and passed it to the man. “Noah Mason.”

There wasn't a single slip of the friendly mask this man wore as he eagerly took the picture and studied it for a moment. He responded with a nod before handing it back.

“Yes, I remember. The police were already here a couple of days ago.” A look of concern tipped his eyebrows. “Are you saying he hasn't been found yet?”

“He hasn't,” Soldier replied, crossing his arms over his chest. “We were hoping, if there was anything you could tell us about his visit, maybe we could—”

“Sir, I'm sorry, but everything I know, I already told the police,” the man gently interjected, casting an apologetic expression toward both Soldier and Meg.

“We aren't the police,” Meg replied.

The man lifted his chin at that, his eyes curious. “Are you members of Officer Mason's family then?”

Meg heard as Soldier swallowed. He was growing more concerned; the idea of revealing their identities didn't feel right to him. But still, he nodded.

“Yes,” he said, but left it at that, not uncovering who exactly they were to Noah. As if the secrecy mattered at this point.

The man nodded solemnly. “My name is Shawn. I'm one of the directors here,” he said, introducing himself finally. “I'm sorry for what your family is going through, truly, but …” He shrugged with helplessness Meg didn't believe was fake. “I don't have much to offer you. I wish I did. He came here and asked about a man we’d held a service for twenty years ago. There was nothing to give him, unfortunately, as we don't keep records that far back.”

“Did you remember the guy he was asking about?” Soldier asked.

Shawn shook his head. “No, I'm afraid not.”

Soldier's gaze moved around the foyer, scanning the pictures on the walls until he settled on one. Meg followed his interest until she saw what he was looking at.

“What about the other directors?” she asked, staring at the photo of the three men in black. “There are two others?”

She cast her attention back to Shawn in time to see him nod.

“Yes, my brothers, Abraham and Isaac. Noah … Officer Mason, he never met Isaac, but he did speak to Abraham.”

“Is Abraham here?” Soldier asked.