The pastor visibly shook himself and retreated a step. “Of course. My apologies. You’re just very . . . striking, Agent Snow.” He didn’t look away from her face and even ducked his head to stare better into her eyes. “Did you know that some Native American cultures believe those fortunate souls with different-colored eyes can look into heaven and earth at the same time?”
She wanted to step away from him. “Yes. Such eyes were referred to as ‘ghost eyes.’ Do you believe in legends, Pastor?”
He smiled. “I’m not sure about legends, but I believe in gifted and talented people. As well as beautiful women.” He gestured toward the open doorway. “It’s a quiet day here at the church, but we do have a luncheon in about an hour for newly married couples. Come on back to my office, where we can get comfortable.”
Huck’s grunt this time was anything but cheerful. “Can the dog stay here in the entryway?”
“Sure,” the pastor said.
Huck motioned with his hand, and Aeneas padded near the door and lay down, nose on paws.
“Good boy.” Huck waited for Laurel to follow the pastor and then stuck close to her back down a long hallway with several offices and meeting rooms on each side.
“The other side of the main church has several classrooms as well as two gathering rooms for wedding receptions and such,” Pastor John said, leading them into a spacious office with a wide window looking over the glacial river and mountains beyond. “Please. Have a seat.” His plush seats were covered in a thick, flowered material.
Laurel sat as Huck did the same. “Pastor John—”
“John,” the pastor said. “You’re not members of the congregation, so please just call me John. We’re pretty informal here.” He sat behind what appeared to be a hand-carved cedar desk polished to perfection. The dents and dings in the wood suggested it had been in place for decades.
“Pastor John, do you know Lisa Scotford?” Huck asked, retaining the use of the man’s title.
Pastor John’s smile disappeared, and sorrow slid across his face. “I heard about her death and am stunned. Lisa worked here at the church for the last two years, assisting our scheduler and accountant, as well as coordinating the teenage outreach program.” He swallowed rapidly, his eyes glistening. “She was an incredibly sweet person. I just can’t believe somebody killed her.”
“When was the last time you saw Lisa?” Laurel asked.
“Last Friday.” Pastor John’s hand trembled as he lifted a pen off his desk to place it in a square-shaped pen holder decorated with paper mâché elephants and shaky, first-name signatures. The clearest one was by a kid named Bert. “Lisa had this week off, and I thought she was going shopping in Seattle with friends, but I don’t know that for sure.”
“Do you have a list of her friends?” Huck asked.
Pastor John reached for a stack of papers and tapped them into order. “I know some of her friends in the church and can write you a list, but she also had a life outside of the community. She was twenty and trying to find herself.” He dropped his head. “That will never happen now. At least she’s with God.”
Laurel stretched her ankle. It was still giving her a twinge once in a while. “Do you know who Lisa was dating?”
John looked up and met Laurel’s gaze. “Dating? No. I didn’t think she was dating anybody.” He sat perfectly still.
Huck’s chin lifted and his gaze narrowed. “We found condoms and lube in her bedside table. Fresh ones. She was definitely dating somebody.”
Pastor John shook his head and used his knuckles to wipe the side of his mouth. “That surprises me. I honestly had no idea she would have sexual relations outside of marriage. We believe in the sanctity of marriage here.” He frowned. “There were two men she seemed to be friends with. Ryan Kennedy and Larry North. But they seemed more pals than anything else.”
“What about her family? Tell us about them,” Laurel said.
Pastor John straightened his keyboard. “They’re a good family. Mark works construction, Annie works part-time at the Corner Diner, and Lisa was their only child.” He rubbed his chest. “It’s heartbreaking. Truly heartbreaking.”
“We are sorry for your loss,” Huck said. “How long have you been the pastor here?”
Pastor John smiled. “I was hired as the assistant pastor four years ago after getting my master’s in theology from Milton University in Chicago. I couldn’t wait to get to the country where I could really get to know my parishioners.”
Laurel studied the office. There were papers and files across the desk, three file cabinets against one wall, and the two chairs. The free wall held diplomas, a myriad of pictures showing groups of people building houses, and two large photographs. One was of Pastor John. She looked at the other photograph.
“That’s Pastor Zeke,” Pastor John said. “This is his office and his church. He needed a break and told me he was going on a walkabout, but I expected him to return by now. Although he did hint he might not come back.” His voice softened at the end and trailed off.
Laurel cocked her head. “You have a missing pastor, and nobody has filed a report?”
“No.” The pastor shook his head. “More than a year ago, during Pastor Zeke’s last sermon, he told the entire congregation that he was embarking on a spiritual journey God had called him to undertake. He said he might not return for a long time.” Pastor John tapped his chest. “I have to believe that the good Lord is watching out for my friend.”
Laurel stood and moved closer to the picture, which had a small gold name tag at the bottom. Pastor Zeke appeared to be in his sixties with a bald head, sharp features, and tinted spectacles. In the picture, he stood near the biggest pine tree out in front of the church, looking both solid and reassuring. He was short but appeared to have presence. Laurel moved a foot to the left. “This is a nice photograph of you.” In the picture, Pastor John sat on the steps of the front porch of the church, smiling into the camera. She glanced at the gold name tag. “Pastor John Govern?” Awareness had her turning around. Wait a minute. John was such a common name, she hadn’t even considered the possibility.
Pastor John chuckled. “I know. With a name like that, I had to be a pastor, right?”
