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Ella reached into her pocket, grabbed a key and unchained Ted’s handcuffs. A token gesture. “Because you have my word. I’ve called a lawyer to come in right now. He’ll record everything, make sure everything is airtight. No judge in the world is going to argue against two FBI agents singing your innocence.”
Ted’sface shifted, hisexpression taking on new life. He itched the marks left by the handcuffs and said, “Keep talking.”
“Plus, if you help me out, we won’t say a word about your license or a lack thereof. We can even help you get your license back.”
Ted examined the back of his hands, keeping his lips pursed. Ella could see the idea taking hold. “And what would I have to do?” he asked.
“David and Gary. You knew them both, possibly better than anyone else. We need to know about their lives.”
“Their whole lives? That could take a while.”
“Their religious lives. Do you know what churches they both went to?”
Ted squeezed his temples and said, “Saint Paul’s Church. Lichfield Street.”
The simple phrase stirred a forgotten memory, bringing a past conversation to the forefront of her mind. She heard the voice of Hiromu Takahashi, Joanne’s rehab partner.She went to Smart Recovery at Saint Paul’s Church on Lichfield Street.
It was the same place.
Ella worked to contain her composure, but this was a big revelation. “Both victims visited there. You’re sure?” she asked.
“Positive. It’s actually where I first met David.”
“You went there too? For mass?”
Ted gave a sly, suggestive wink. “Lots of lost souls at churches who need therapy,” he said. “Call it a marketing opportunity.”
Ella didn’t have time to dwell on his comments. She shot out of her chair and made for the door.
“Woah, wait a minute,” Ted said. “What about my lawyer?”
“He’s on his way.”
“Well, how long are you gonna be? Can’t you wait here for him?”
Ella rushed back to the desk and leaned across, close enough to smell the former suspect’s nervous sweat. “Ted, do you want to be known as the unlicensed therapist forever, or the therapist that helped catch a serial killer?”
Ted’s beady eyes suddenly animated. He nodded. “Okay. Go.”
Ella was already out the door.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
“So, all the victims came here at some point,” Ella said. “We need to speak to the priest in charge.”
Ella and Ripley were parked outside Saint Paul’s church,its majestic spire reaching into the sky in silent prayer. The midday sun beat down on the golden cross atop of the building and bathed the old stone walls an off-color gold. A horde of worshippers were passing through their gates on their way out, presumably the afternoon mass crowd.
“Have you checked him out?” Ripley asked.
“Yeah. Nothing. Clean as a whistle. But that doesn’t mean a thing.”
“You’re right about that.” Both agents went quite while they waited for the crowd to disperse. Ripley asked, “Have you ever been to a mass?”
“Never,” Ella said. “I don’t even know what it is.”
“It’s not just me then.”
“Definitely not. I hear it all the time but I couldn’t tell you what it involves for the life of me.” She watched the last of the midday crowd disappear down the way. “Come on, I think we’re clear.”
