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“We have your old friend in custody,” she said. “You won’t be hearing from him again for a long time.”
“Father Alden? Oh, my. He did this?”
“No, he’s innocent of these murders but guilty of a few other things.”
Kerley nodded solemnly. “Very sad. I’ll never cheer for the loss of another soul, but it comes as a relief, I’ll be honest.”
“Don’t be sad. The man seems… somewhat troubled.”
“Of course. God turns tests into testimonies, victims into victories.”
Ella had to smile. She guessed Kerley didn’t realize just how apt the quote was. “That from the Bible?” she asked.
“Not quite, but the sentiment behind it is. You’re religious yourself?” he asked.
“I can’t say I am,” Ella said. “I never really… got it.”
“Understandable,” Father Kerley said as he bowed his head a little. “Religion is a huge spectrum, but really, it’s a form of moral guidance. Stories to live our lives by, no different than the heroes and villains on television. Be a good person, shun selfishness, embrace love in times of darkness. It keeps away existential angst, and even if it’s all for nothing, at least it distracted us,” he smiled.
Ella had never heard it put so simply. In one short speech, she suddenly understood it. “Very beautiful,” she said. “I’ll give you one thing, you guys seem pretty happy.”
“We try. I’ve had my faith tested a lot over the years, but I’ve always stayed strong. I have Christianity to thank for that. But I’m happy to admit it’s not for everyone.”
Ella stopped for a moment, relishing the calm of the environment, bouncing a single word around her head like a pinball. She’d heard it twice now in the past few minutes, and something about it was sticking, prodding her brain to let it in.
Test.
Why was it speaking to her so loudly?
“By tests, you mean everyday problems?”
“Certainly. Adversity, fuel for growth. The church accepts weakness but encourages strength. We welcome hardships because they’re the ultimate tests of faith.”
Ella glanced beyond Father Kerley to what lay in the background of her vision. The holy man became a blur, while a certain corner of the church lit up like a lens suddenly coming into focus.
Tests.
Her thoughts wandered off the beaten path, taking her down a winding avenue of unexplored possibilities. A flip switched in her brain, turning everything about this case on its head and revealing its full, sinister picture. Ella’s senses awakened with a sudden burst of shock, sparking a newfound vigor, feeling more alive than she’d felt in weeks.
She ran past Father Kerley, into a small corridor leading into the church’s back area. She stopped, stared at the wall.
Four paintings encased in a long, golden frame, depicting some Biblical tale that even Ella’s ungodly brain was familiar with. Paintings that weren’t too dissimilar from the ones in David Harper’s home. She’d seen them hours ago when she’d first met Father Kerley, and while they’d struck a chord with her, she hadn’t given them the necessary attention.
And not only did these canvases portray a well-known religious tale, but they were scenes straight from her reality.
A woman cradling a child.
A man living in poverty.
A land destroyed by fire.
A malnourished man praying to the heavens.
“Father!” Ella called. The priest hobbled in her direction, his eyes wide with apprehension.
“Is everything okay, miss?”
“This,” Ella said, hammering the paintings like a woman amidst a hysterical breakdown. “These paintings. What do they mean?”
