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I could see it now. The disdain for those who didn’t see things the same way he did. For those he considered inferior. Myself included. His eyes changed—hardening—to give us a glimpse at the man beneath the surface.
“And the ones who do know?”
“Most of them are like you. They don’t understand our purpose. They pass judgment without knowing what we do because that’s what the government or the media has told them.” He leaned back in his chair and crossed his legs comfortably. “And then there are those who do know. And believe.”
He twisted the cap off his water and took a long, slow drink, watching us over the top while his throat worked to swallow.
“And what about your sons?” Jack asked. “Do they believe? Did you start training them young? So that hate festered as they grew to adulthood?”
Vance set his water down on the table very carefully. Very controlled. “My sons are good men. They have children. They have careers.”
I noticed he didn’t say wives.
“And are they members of your club? Do they spend their free time torturing and beating grown men to death? Raping women?”
“As I’m sure you know, our membership roster is private. My name is available through our website because I’m the liaison between people like you and our members, but the citizens of this state who’ve decided to follow the true path and dedicate themselves to purifying this country have a right to their privacy.”
Jack took the crime scene photo of Reverend Oglesby out of his folder and set it in front of Doctor Vance. “Look at it,” Jack said when Vance continued to stare straight ahead. “Do you recognize the work here? Is this your idea of purification?”
Vance looked down at the photo of the mutilated body of Daniel Oglesby, but there was no reaction to the horror that had been captured. “There are all kids of purification, Sheriff, but this is not our way. Our creed is that violence of this nature is unnecessary to our cause.”
“But there is violence?”
“I’m sure you know better than most that a group of testosterone driven men can’t always be controlled with the voice of reason. But we strive to be rational and use logic to get our point across.”
“I’m sure Reverend Oglesby would disagree that his torture and death were rational or justified. It’s a hate crime. And it’s still murder, no matter what spin you put on it.”
“It’s not my hate crime,” Vance said with a smile. “I’ve already given you my alibi for the nights in question. I’m intrigued by your case. It’s not often a man of the cloth is punished in a way like this. But it makes you wonder what it was he did to deserve such a punishment.”
“Do you believe anyone deserves a punishment like this?” I couldn’t help but ask.
His eyes met mine and I felt a chill work its way down my spine. “I believe God allows punishments like this for those who do deserve it.”
Vance’s gaze bored into mine, but the pleasant look on his face was at odds with those dead eyes when he started quoting scripture. “The fearful, and unbelieving, and the abominable, and whoremongers, and sorcerers, and all liars shall have their part in the lake that burneth with fire.Revelations is a powerful book of the Bible. Wouldn’t you say so, Ms. Graves?”
My palms were dry and cold and my mouth was like cotton. He’d spoken those words with power and condemnation, but I couldn’t let him see he’d affected me.
“I’m familiar enough with the Bible,Mr.Vance.”
Anger leapt into his eyes at my slight, and it took everything I could muster to hold still in my chair and not move away from him. I couldn’t let him see my fear. He might have an alibi, but he knew more than he was saying. I’d seen that evil glimpse into his soul, and I knew that Vaughn might not be as safe as he thought he was.
“You forgot to mention the part about murderers,” I said. “They belong in the fiery lake as well. Unless there’s a special place in hell for people like that?”
Vance leaned toward me, and I froze as I forgot how to breathe again.
“Do you know George Murphy?” Jack asked, drawing his attention away from me.
Vance gathered his composure and relaxed back in his chair. “I can’t say I recognize the name. Is he a suspect?”
“I just thought you might have some familiarity with those in your following.”
“Like I said, Sheriff, if he was a member I wouldn’t divulge his name. And just because I’m in a position of power doesn’t mean I know everyone in the organization. It’s a large group. Did you know our numbers have grown larger than all the police in the state combined?”
I felt Jack go rigid beside me as Vance stared him down and the threat became clear, but Jack wasn’t one to be intimidated. There was a reason Jack was a damned good poker player, but him in a temper was never a good thing, so I reached under the table and put my hand on his knee, hoping he wouldn’t give Vance the satisfaction of a response. Jack’s muscles relaxed beneath my hand, and he took another photograph out of the folder and put it face up in front of the doctor.
“What can you tell me about this?” Jack asked.
The photo was a close up of the brand that had been burned into Reverend Oglesby’s hip—of the flesh that had been charred black around the edge with the symbol of hatred. Jack took out another photo and laid it beside the first. I recognized the body of Julie Lawrence, the victim from Westmoreland County. She had a similar brand, but hers had been on the inner thigh. I could tell by looking at her photo that they’d given it to her pre-mortem, and I clenched my fists in my lap to keep from launching myself across the table at the smug little bastard in front of me.
