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"My guess is that he didn't have a meeting," Valerie said. "I think the abbot came here because we were close to finding out something, and he's here to talk with someone."
Valerie picked up her phone as she watched the abbot in the distance leaving his car and walking towards the farmhouse.
She dialed a number, but there was no reply.
"I can't get a hold of Will," Valerie said. "I wanted to update him before we go in."
"I'm sure he's fine," Charlie said. "He's got the sheriff with him. He's a good one."
"Yeah," but something lingered in Valerie's mind. She was worried, but they had no time now to explore that worry. They had to get to the farmhouse and find out what the abbot was up to.
***
The skies above now were so clouded that it looked almost like night to Valerie. She moved, gun drawn, between several parked cars outside of an old beat-up farmhouse surrounded by dilapidated machinery.
It was clear that the place was no longer a functioning farm, but it hadsomefunction, for Abbot Collins at least. He was inside.
Charlie moved in front of Valerie, his military training always making him best suited to taking point.
He stopped by a wooden staircase leading up to a warped porch and pointed to a door covered in flaking paint.
"Do we knock?" he said.
"No," Valerie whispered. "I want to hear what he's saying in there. If we go in all friendly, he'll clam up, and we won't learn anything. Let's sneak inside."
"Got it."
Somewhere in the distance, thunder rumbled in the clouded skies.
Valerie and Charlie moved up the steps, the wood creaking beneath their feet. The door was unlocked, and Valerie opened it slowly. It was dark inside, with only a single light bulb hanging from the ceiling casting a faint, yellow glow. Voices could be heard coming from somewhere in the back of the house.
Valerie felt her nerves on edge as she crept forward through the hallways and into an old living room with furniture that had seen better days. There was a strange smell in the air, like something long forgotten growing stale and moldy. She could see a kitchen ahead, but it was pitch black beyond that.
Charlie gestured for her to move close against one wall while he stepped into the kitchen. He moved cautiously towards what seemed to be an open door leading further into the house. Charlie peered into the doorway and cocked his head to the side as if listening. He then ushered Valerie to follow.
The two moved slowly down another hallway. Valerie could hear voices coming from around the corner, but they were too far away to make out what was being said. As they moved closer, she could make out Abbot Collins speaking with several people. He was telling them something.
Valerie and Charlie made it to the end of another hallway and stopped in front of a door. They both listened carefully as Abbot Collins continued his conversation on the other side.
"Now the FBI are sniffing around," Abbot Collins said from the other side of the door.
"That's why you called us here?" a woman with a thin voice asked.
"Yes, Annabelle, I think we all need to be careful now," he said.
"Why don't we just speak to them," a man suggested. "We could come clean about it."
"I'll lose my job at the church if this happens," Abbot Collins said. "Once they find out about this group, I'll lose everything."
"But we won't," another said.
"Thanks for the solidarity," Abbot Collins said sarcastically.
"Frank doesn't mean that," the woman said. "I know full well we'd be in trouble for not coming forward sooner at least. At best, they might charge us all with obstruction."
"Then we stay silent," another said.
"Haven't you read the papers the last couple of days?" the abbot asked in exasperated fashion. "They haven't named all the victims yet, but two of them belonged to our group a long time ago. Maybe the others did too. That means the killer is picking us off."
