“Why?” Marcus’s voice is suspicious.
“Because some things matter more than a paycheck.” Ray’s expression hardens. “I became a PI to help people, not to enable charlatan preachers who steal from their congregations. Whitmore makes me sick.” He taps the envelope. “This makes me sick. So yeah, I’ll help you. But I don’t want your money. Consider it penance for the surveillance photos I took.”
Relief floods through me so intense it’s almost painful. We’re not alone anymore. We have an ally, evidence, and a fighting chance.
Back at Adrian’s office, we spread the documents out again, the four of us standing around his desk like generals planning a war.
The evidence is damning, irrefutable, enough to destroy Whitmore completely.
35
ADRIAN
The email from Diocese IT sits in my inbox, flagged as routine maintenance.Irregular recording activity detected on church audio-visual system. Please review attached logs at your earliest convenience.
I scan it once, my mind already spinning with more immediate threats, and file it away for later.
The Bishop’s investigation.
Diane’s knowing smirks. Isabella’s calculated presence. Tommy’s threats. The attachment can wait.
I don’t understand the danger lurking in those unreviewed files.
The morning shatters when Robert Chen storms into my office without knocking, his face red with rage that makes the veins in his neck bulge.
He’s a small man, barely five-seven, but fury makes him seem larger as he slams his palms on my desk hard enough to rattle the crucifix mounted on the wall.
“I want Brother Moreau fired. Today.” His voice shakes with barely contained violence. “Or I’m going to the police. The media. The diocese. Everyone.”
My stomach drops. “Mr. Chen, please sit down. Let’s discuss this calmly.”
“Calmly?” He laughs, the sound sharp and cruel. “My daughter just told me everything. Months of grooming. Inappropriate touching. Secret declarations of love that he panicked and denied to cover his tracks when she finally confronted him.”
The words hit like physical blows. I force myself to remain steady, to not let my expression betray the terror flooding my system. “That’s a serious accusation. I need to speak with Sarah directly.”
“Absolutely not.” Robert’s hands curl into fists. “She’s traumatized enough. I won’t let you or anyone else at this church near her again.”
“Mr. Chen, I understand you’re upset, but I can’t take action based solely on secondhand information. If Sarah is making these claims, I need to hear them from her, with you present if you prefer.”
“You think I’m lying?” His voice rises. “You think my daughter is lying?”
“I think there may be misunderstandings that need clarification.” I keep my voice measured, professional, even as my mind races through implications. Sarah’s crush on Elijah. The expensive gifts. The social media posts. Charlie’s warnings that we all dismissed. “Brother Moreau has been nothing but professional in his interactions with all choir members.”
“Professional?” Robert’s laugh is bitter. “Is it professional to accept expensive gifts from a teenage girl? To stand close enough that she can feel his breath? To make her believe he has feelings for her?”
Each accusation lands like a stone in my chest because I can see how Sarah might have twisted innocent interactions into something more. Elijah’s kindness.
His patience during vocal instruction. The book she gave him that he accepted to avoid embarrassing her publicly. All of it could be reframed, reinterpreted, and weaponized.
“I will investigate these allegations thoroughly,” I say, my voice firm. “But I won’t terminate anyone’s employment based on accusations alone.”
Robert leans across my desk, his face inches from mine. “You have twenty-four hours to fire him. Or I’m going to the police with a formal complaint. Then the media. Then the diocese.” His smile is cold. “AndI’ll make sure everyone knows that St. Michael’s protects predators who prey on teenage girls.”
He storms out, slamming the door hard enough that the crucifix tilts on the wall. I sit in the sudden silence, my hands shaking as I grip the edge of my desk.
The timing couldn’t be worse.
The Bishop is already investigating us.
