“Until we found Lisa Scotford, another low-risk victim, there was no strong connection to Casey.”
Even so, Laurel had put herself in Huck’s truck, and they were in the middle of nowhere right now. He shook his head. “What would you do if you thought I was guilty?”
“I don’t think you’re guilty.” She sipped thoughtfully through her straw.
He turned away from the square toward the long fields and groves of trees. The river rushed along next to them, white and chilly. “I know, but what if you did? Would you still be here questioning me? Just the two of us?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek. It was something he’d seen her do before while thinking things through. “Probably not. That wouldn’t be smart, even though I’m armed. You’re bigger and you’re strong and fast.” She pushed a wayward strand of hair out of her eyes. “If I considered you a viable suspect, I would’ve called you into the office for an official interview.”
It was good to know she didn’t take unnecessary risks or think she was invincible, even though she was brilliant. He didn’t want to like that about her, but he did. “Have you ever been wrong before?”
She looked his way, her dual-colored eyes bright in the truck. “Sure. I’m just human, you know.”
Chapter Thirty
Laurel felt much better after speaking with Huck, and she was fine admitting that to herself. Though she hadn’t truly considered him a suspect, his easy acceptance of her need to question him went a long way toward reassuring her about his nature. Many men would’ve gotten angry, especially when they’d been intimate the night before.
Her thighs still tingled, and she was fairly certain he’d left a slight bite mark at the base of her left buttock.
The rain was just starting to fall as he parked at the church.
Her phone buzzed and she answered, “Agent Snow.”
“It’s Dr. Ortega. I’ve finished ageing the victims discovered in the avalanche. For the earliest one, I can place time of death at approximately a year ago. I’m sending all the documents to your email address.” Something shuffled. “I have to go, Agent. Talk soon.” He hung up.
Laurel looked at Huck. “The first murder happened about a year ago.”
Huck’s eyebrows rose. “About two months after Casey was murdered?”
“Yes.” That tracked perfectly. If they had actually even discovered the first body, which they wouldn’t know until spring, when they could begin searching again. “Let’s go see the pastor,” Laurel said.
Aeneas ran ahead, shaking off the rain, as they both pushed their way through the double front doors.
Jasmine Caine was inside the vestibule, tacking a new set of colorful flyers to the bulletin board. She turned and smiled, her brown hair frizzing a little around her head. “Howdy. Oh, shoot. It’s started raining already.” She took in Laurel’s wet hair. “I was hoping it’d hold off until later so I could decorate more outside.”
Laurel wiped wetness off her cheeks. “It’s a slow pour right now, but the clouds are fairly dark. We’re here to see Pastor John.”
“I know.” Jasmine pointed to the righthand door, opposite the one which they had gone through last time. “He’s in the second meeting room on the left waiting for you. I put coffee and water in there. Is there anything else you’d like?”
“No, thanks.” Laurel had enjoyed her latte and was nice and warm. “Thanks, Jasmine.”
“Sure. Any time.” The woman smiled at Huck. “I didn’t mention the other day how much I appreciate your help with the volunteers on search and rescue operations. You probably don’t remember me, but I helped out with finding the two teenaged boys who wanted to reenact some movie they’d watched about surviving in the wilderness.” She winked at Laurel. “When we finally found them, they were tired and cold and had definitely learned a lesson.”
Huck grunted. “That’s right. The department made those two do volunteer work for a few weeks to make up for the cost of the search.”
Laurel opened the door, peering down the hallway and then moving through. She walked past two classrooms on her right and one meeting room on her left until they reached a room with a conference table and pale yellow chairs. The pastor sat on the far side, next to Steve Bearing.
Laurel moved inside. “You brought your attorney.” With a nod to Bearing, she took a seat across from him.
Huck sat next to her, across from the pastor. “Interesting.”
Bearing smiled, all teeth and charm. “The pastor has a brain, and anybody with one would hire an attorney when being questioned by both the FBI and a Washington State police officer. You two both know that, so don’t try to start off by putting the pastor on the defensive.”
Fair enough. Laurel smiled. “All right. Let’s get started, then. Pastor John, how long had you engaged in a sexual relationship with Lisa Scotford?”
Pastor John sputtered. His face looked as if he’d rubbed his eyes repeatedly. “What are you talking about? That’s ridiculous. How dare you even imply such a thing? That’s slander.”
Laurel almost smiled. The guy was the worst liar she’d ever seen. “Pastor? I’m an FBI agent.”
