“We want to force his hand. Make him panic. Make him act rashly enough that we can catch him.” I meet her eyes. “This will work, Dorothy. But only if you’re willing to help us.”
She’s quiet for a long moment. Then: “What happens after I make the announcement?”
“We set up surveillance at this house. Undercover officers, hidden cameras, the works. When Ryan comes—and he will come—we’ll catch him in the act.”
“You’re using me as bait.”
“We’re using the threat of losing his inheritance as bait. You’ll be protected. I give you my word.”
Dorothy looks at her niece, who nods encouragingly. Then back at me. “All right. I’ll do it. But Marco? When you arrest him, I want to be the one to tell him why. I want him to know that I know what he did.”
“Deal.”
***
First Baptist Church of Millbrook Falls sits on the corner of Main and Church Street.
Built in 1847 by the town’s founders, it’s the oldest building still standing in Millbrook Falls. Red brick exterior weathered by time, white-painted wooden trim that gets repainted every five years by volunteers, steeple reaching toward the sky with a bell that still rings every Sunday morning at nine.
Inside, dark wood pews worn smooth by generations of congregants. Stained glass windows depicting biblical scenes filter colored light across the sanctuary. The altar is simple with no elaborate decorations, just a wooden cross and fresh flowers donated by members each week.
Small congregation. Maybe seventy people on a good Sunday. Everyone knows everyone, which makes Phoebe and me stand out despite our attempts to blend in.
I’m wearing khakis and a button-down shirt that doesn’t quite fit right. Phoebe is in a conservative dress she borrowed from her sister, hair styled differently than usual. We sit in the back pew, trying to look like visiting relatives.
Ryan Williams sits three rows from the front. Dark hair, expensive jacket he can’t afford, checking his phone every thirty seconds like he’s got somewhere better to be.
Pastor Jenkins leads the service. Hymns, prayers, and announcements about the church potluck next weekend, standard Sunday morning routine.
Then he invites Dorothy to share her testimony.
She slowly walks to the front, using her cane. The congregation watches with sympathy—everyone knows about the fire at her house. Several people have organized meal trains and donation drives to help her recover.
“Thank you all for your prayers these past few weeks,” Dorothy begins, her voice carrying through the small sanctuary. “I wanted to share with you how God has been working in my life through this trial.”
Ryan’s attention shifts to his grandmother. Fully focused now.
“When that fire started in my home, I thought I was going to die. The smoke was so thick, I couldn’t see. Couldn’t breathe.” She pauses, letting the weight of that sink in. “But God sent Rachel Morgan to visit me that day. She got me out. Saved my life.”
Murmurs of “Amen” and “Praise God” ripple through the congregation.
“I’ve been doing a lot of thinking since then. About what matters. About what I’ll leave behind when I’m gone.” Dorothy’s voice strengthens. “And I’ve decided that earthly possessions don’t matter. Not really. What matters is the Kingdom of God. Helping others. Making a difference.”
Ryan sits up straighter. His jaw tightens.
“So, I’m announcing today that I’m changing my will. Everything I own—my house, my savings, everything—I’m leaving it all to charity. To organizations that help people in need. To the church mission fund. To causes that will outlive me and do God’s work.”
The congregation erupts in supportive applause. People are nodding, smiling, and calling out encouragement.
Ryan’s face goes white. Then red. His hands clench into fists.
Dorothy continues. “I’m meeting with my lawyer this Thursday to make it official. And I want you all to know that this decision brings me peace. Real peace.”
Ryan stands abruptly. His chair scrapes loudly against the floor. People turn to look.
“Excuse me,” he mutters, pushing past the people in his row.
He storms down the center aisle, footsteps echoing in the sanctuary. Shoves through the double doors at the back. They bang shut behind him.
