“That’s very much what it’s like. In this case, client-clergy, and it would be highly unethical of me to discuss anything about Mrs. Greenlee or any other of my parishioners with you or anyone else. They trust me, Nikki. They know that their secrets are just between us—well, and God, of course.”
“Of course.” It was her turn to sound sarcastic, but she couldn’t believe his convictions. From tough guy on the playground, Westin Stark? It seemed impossible.
People do change.
They grow up.
Some. But not all. She put Westin directly in the latter category.
“I see the look of skepticism on your face, and I guess I can’t blame you. I wasn’t very kind as a youth,” he admitted, and for once, she almost believed him.
“No, you weren’t.”
“Well, yes, I did some very despicable things.” Frowning, he glanced up at the sky, where a few stars were winking awake. “But I’ve atoned for them. Trust me. The Lord has shown me the way.” He reached out and actually put a hand on her shoulder.
She took a step back.
He dropped his hand. “You know, I think you would find peace if you took Jesus into your heart.”
“How do you know he’s not there already?” she challenged and saw the smarmy little smile play at the corner of his mouth again.
“Oh, Nicole. I know you. Remember? I could have been kinder when we were kids, but you were no angel.”
That much was true. She couldn’t argue the point. “I wasnota bully.”
“You did your share of damage,” he said. His eyes held hers. “And now you spend your time writing about man’s brutality to man. You make your living off the pain of others.”
“So do you.”
“I offer peace. And solutions. I help people. I heal.” His smile faded. “You, on the other hand, profit.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“Just what I read in the papers,” he said, cuttingly. “Under your byline. Now, if you’ll excuse me,” he added, his false smile returning, “I have a eulogy to write.” And with that, he was up the two steps and unlocking the door of the parsonage. As he did, three dogs scrambled onto the porch. Mutts, from the looks of them, a hound of some kind, a smaller terrier mix, and one that was part pit bull. They all started down the stairs, toward Nikki, but a sharp whistle from Stark and they stopped. “They’re friendly,” he said, but she suspected the gleam in his eyes was from more than the porch light. “But you should always be careful with animals you don’t know. A friendly demeanor on the outside belies the animosity within.”
“A wolf in sheep’s clothing,” she said, staring pointedly at his clerical collar, a white band in a dark night.
“Good night, Nicole. Be careful out there.” He whistled again to the dogs, who shot into the house. Once at the threshold, he said, “May peace find you and always”—he paused, as if for dramatic effect—“may the Father be with you and Jesus bless your soul.”
Chapter 33
Was she being followed?
Driving home from her meeting with Westin Stark, Nikki kept one eye on the rearview. Did she see the same silver SUV behind her, maybe two cars back? Her heartbeat accelerated as she saw it take the same series of corners she did. “It’s nothing,” she said aloud, but remembered how she’d thought she was being observed the other day at the horse barns, how she’d sensed an evil presence. Now, she made sure her phone was within easy reach. Fingers tight over the wheel, and telling herself that she was being paranoid, she changed course. Instead of her normal route, she followed a twisting, circuitous path through the historic district, turning back toward the river. With the silver vehicle still a few cars behind her, she drove out of Savannah proper entirely, heading toward the airport for several miles before doubling back.
She lost visual contact with the SUV.
Still nervous, she steadied her breath, took a few more unexpected corners.
No silver vehicle appeared in her rearview.
No SUV darted from an alley to track her.
Good.
She calmed a bit, but still took the back streets toward Forsyth Park before finally pulling into her driveway. Using an extra remote she’d scrounged from one of the junk drawers, she pulled into the garage and parked near Pierce’s Caddy.
“Don’t be crazy,” she warned herself. She was probably just overreacting due to the recent homicides, Naomi Kittle’s disappearance, and her own history of near-death experiences.
