Sheila and Natalie leaned closer, watching attentively as lines of code scrolled across Finn's screen, his every movement precise and practiced.

  Sheila's curiosity about Finn's skills got the best of her. "Finn, how did you become so proficient with computers?" she asked, observing his swift fingers dance across the keyboard.

  Finn paused for a moment and glanced at Sheila before answering. "Well, when I was younger, my family didn't have much money, so we couldn't afford many things," he began. "I found an old computer in our neighbor's trash one day. It was broken, but I decided to fix it. I spent months learning everything I could about how computers worked and eventually managed to bring it back to life."

  "Wow," Sheila murmured, impressed by his resourcefulness and determination. She also sensed a hint of vulnerability in his story, which drew her closer to him.

  "From there, I just kept learning more and more," Finn continued. "Computers became a safe haven for me, a way to escape from the harsh realities of my life. As I grew older, I realized that my skill set could be useful in law enforcement, so I pursued a career as a deputy and put my abilities to good use."

  As Finn spoke, Sheila felt a swell of admiration for him. Despite his dark past and struggles, he had persevered and turned his passion into a valuable asset. His dedication reminded her of her own journey in kickboxing, how she pushed through despite the setbacks. A newfound respect for Finn formed within her.

  "Alright," Finn said, breaking the brief silence. "I've traced the IP address to find the computer's physical location. It appears to be at a church called Salvation Springs."

  Sheila's eyes widened in surprise, recognizing the name immediately. "Salvation Springs? Natalie, that's the church we visited yesterday!"

  Natalie, equally taken aback, nodded. "Yes, it is. I didn't expect that connection."

  Sheila clenched her fists, her mind racing with the revelation of Salvation Springs' connection to their investigation. Her gaze flickered between Finn and Natalie, seeking guidance on how to proceed.

  "Can you hack into the computer at Salvation Springs, Finn?" Natalie asked, her voice betraying a hint of urgency.

  He shrugged. "Shouldn't be difficult. It's just a church computer after all, right? How advanced could the security be?"

  Sheila's heart pounded in anticipation as Finn's fingers flew across his laptop keyboard. She watched as he opened a browser window and navigated to an unassuming site that was actually a cover for a series of hacking tools.

  "Walk us through what you're doing," Natalie said.

  "First, I'm going to use this program to cloak my IP address," Finn explained, pointing to an icon on the screen. "That way, they won't be able to trace our location if they detect the intrusion."

  As the program whirred to life, Finn launched another application. "Now, I'll try to find any vulnerabilities in their network security. If there's a weak spot, I can exploit it to gain access."

  Sheila's eyes widened, impressed by Finn's expertise yet amazed at the sheer complexity of the task. She held her breath as the program scanned for potential weaknesses, time seeming to slow as they awaited the results.

  "Huh," Finn said, sounding surprised.

  "What?" Sheila asked.

  "It's just more secure than I'd expected. I wouldn't think they'd have much more than a simple password, but this is encrypted."

  Was someone trying to hide something, Sheila wondered? If so, what?

  "Can you get in?" Natalie asked.

  Finn was silent for a few moments. Then he sat up straighter. "Just did. Looks like there's an unpatched vulnerability in their firewall. I'll use this exploit to bypass it and get inside their system."

  Sheila nodded, though in truth she understood only a little of what was happening.

  "Once I'm in, I'll need to locate the specific computer we're after," Finn continued, his fingers dancing on the keys like a seasoned pianist. "I'll search for any devices connected to the same IP address we traced earlier."

  As Finn delved deeper into Salvation Springs' network, the tension in the room grew palpable. What else might they find on the computer? What other secrets might this device be harboring?

  "Alright, I've found the computer," Finn said. "Here we go."

  Sheila and Natalie leaned in as Finn began sifting through the files stored on the church's computer. Initially, they discovered nothing more than mundane content: newsletters, community outreach plans, and sermon drafts filled the screen.

  "Looks like most of this is just typical church stuff," Finn said, his brow furrowing as he continued searching for clues.

  "Keep looking," Sheila urged, her voice tense with the weight of the situation. "There has to be something here that connects Salvation Springs to the killer."

  Finn's fingers continued to dance across the keyboard, his eyes scanning the screen with the precision of a hawk. Sheila could feel her heart rate increasing as the anticipation built within her.

  "Wait," Finn muttered, pausing for a moment. "I have an idea."

  He opened a browser and navigated to the history tab. As he scrolled through the list, Sheila's heart sank with each disturbing search entry they came across.

  "Look at this," Finn said. "'Best ways to hide a body.' And here: 'how salt affects decomposition.'"

  Sheila's mind raced as she tried to process the chilling information before her. The cold realization that someone at Salvation Springs had been researching such sinister topics sent shivers down her spine.

  "Keep going," Natalie said. "What else is there?"

  "Let's see," Finn muttered, scrolling farther down the list. "'How to clean bloodstains from clothing and surfaces,' 'the most lethal poisons and how to obtain them,' and…'psychology behind serial killers.'"

  The room seemed to close in around them as the weight of the discoveries settled heavily upon their shoulders. It was clear now that they were closer than ever to the truth, but the path forward was fraught with danger.

  "Alright," Sheila said, trying to keep her voice steady. "We need to gather all the evidence we can from these searches without alerting whoever did this. Can you save the search history and any related files, Finn?"

  "Of course," Finn replied, his fingers flying deftly across the keys once more.

  "Good," Natalie said. "Because as soon as you're done with that, we need to go pay Pastor Walden another visit."

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  As the unmarked police car pulled into the gravel parking lot of Salvation Springs, Sheila's eyes were drawn to a familiar station wagon. Pastor David Walden was here again, just as she had suspected.

  The question is, she thought, what's he up to?

  The early morning sun cast long shadows across the cracked asphalt, and the church loomed over them like an ancient guardian. A second vehicle, a small red sports car with a dented bumper, caught her attention. Who could it belong to? The next victim? She felt a shiver crawl up her spine, the hairs on her arms standing on end.

  "Alright," Natalie said, her voice steady and authoritative. "Here's the plan. We're going in there, bringing Walden back for questioning, and confiscating his computer." Her eyes met Sheila's, determination shining through. "I don't expect he'll give us any problems, but there's no telling what might happen once he realizes we're onto him. So keep your eyes peeled, okay?"

  "Got it," Sheila replied, her gaze lingering on the church's heavy wooden doors. She tried to shake off the sense of foreboding that threatened to consume her. Every nerve in her body seemed to be buzzing, a mix of excitement and fear.

  Sheila and Natalie got out of the van and joined Finn, who'd driven separately. As they moved toward the church, they passed the second vehicle parked in the lot. It was a small, bright red hatchback with a dreamcatcher hanging from the rearview mirror and a bumper sticker about world hunger on the back. The car's youthful appearance made Sheila wonder if the owner was a young woman. She felt an uneasy shiver run down her spine as she considered the possibility that Walden could be the killer and that whoever drove this car might be his next victim.

  "Stay sharp," Natalie said, her voice low and steady. Sheila nodded, her heart pounding in her chest as they approached the front door of Salvation Springs Church.

  The morning air was still, heavy with anticipation as they stood before the wooden entrance. Sheila reached up to knock, her knuckles rapping against the door three times. The sound was sharp in the quiet morning, but there was no response from within the church. No footsteps approaching, no voices calling out in surprise or confusion.

  "Should we try again?" Sheila asked, glancing at Natalie and Finn. Her sister gave a slight nod, eyes fixed on the door.

  Finn reached for the door handle, his fingers wrapping around the cold metal. He twisted it, but the door remained stubbornly shut. Locked. Sheila's heart clenched in her chest as her mind raced with possibilities. Why would the church be locked? Was someone trying to hide something?

  "Police!" he shouted, banging on the door with a force that made the wood tremble. "Open up!"

  Still, no response came from within. The silence was oppressive, weighing down on them like a heavy fog.

  "Sheila, Finn," Natalie said, her voice strained with concern. "Why don't you two go around and look for another entrance? But be careful."

  Sheila nodded, feeling a familiar rush of adrenaline as she prepared herself for the unknown. She glanced at Finn, his jaw set in determination, and they began to make their way around the church.

  The morning sun cast long shadows across the church's brick exterior, its arched windows framed by creeping ivy. The beauty of the building seemed a stark contrast to the dark secrets they hoped to uncover within. As they walked, Sheila couldn't help but notice how ancient the structure appeared—a testament to the generations who had sought solace and guidance within its walls.

  Sheila and Finn approached a weathered door at the back of the church, its paint peeling off in large flakes, revealing the gray wood beneath. The area was overgrown with neglected shrubs and weeds, casting eerie shadows on the ground. It was apparent that this door hadn't been used in quite some time.

  "Let's try this one," Finn said, reaching for the rusty doorknob. He twisted it, but it didn't budge. "Locked," he muttered, frustration lining his voice.

  Sheila surveyed the area, her eyes landing on a small alcove near the door. She recalled a similar hidden key placement at her grandmother's house when she was a child. With a hunch, she crouched down and reached into the dark recess, her fingers brushing against something cold and metallic—a key.

  "Try this," she said, handing it to Finn. His eyebrows rose in surprise as he took it from her.

  "Nice find," he said, clearly impressed. Sheila couldn't help but feel a little proud of herself as Finn inserted the key into the lock and turned it with a satisfying click.

  The door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit hallway that stretched before them like the maw of some ancient beast. They stepped into the darkness, the stale air enveloping them as they moved cautiously down the carpeted corridor. The once vibrant colors of the stained-glass windows were muted by the lack of sunlight, casting an eerie glow over the pews that lined the cavernous sanctuary.

  Sheila felt a shiver run down her spine, not only from the chill in the air but also from the sense of uncertainty that hung heavily around them. She couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, their every movement scrutinized by unseen eyes.

  "Stay close," Finn whispered, his voice barely audible as they continued deeper into the church.

  As they ventured farther into the dark church, Sheila's keen ears detected a soft, distant sound that seemed out of place. She strained to hear it, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. It was a woman's voice, speaking in a conversational tone but with an unmistakable edge of distress.

  "Wait," she whispered, placing her hand on Finn's arm to get his attention. "Do you hear that?"

  Finn cocked his head, his brow furrowing as he focused on the elusive sound. He nodded slowly, his grip tightening on his weapon. "Seems like someone's talking."

  Sheila led the way, her senses heightened and every nerve on edge. The carpeted hallway muffled their footsteps, allowing them to move stealthily toward the source of the sound. They passed rows of wooden pews, their shadows thrown across the walls by the flickering light from the stained glass windows. The air was thick with the scent of old hymnals and lingering incense, adding to the atmosphere of foreboding.

  The soft murmur of conversation grew louder as they neared a closed door—Pastor Walden's office, Sheila remembered from her earlier visit. She and Finn exchanged a glance, silently communicating their shared concern for the woman inside.

  Sheila's heart raced as she prepared for whatever confrontation awaited them. She couldn't make out the exact words being spoken, but the woman's pleading tone left no doubt that something was wrong. Her instincts screamed at her to act, yet she knew they had to tread carefully—one false move could put the woman's life at risk.

  "Ready?" Finn asked, his voice barely audible.

  Sheila nodded, her resolve steeling her against the fear that threatened to take hold. She knew they couldn't afford to hesitate any longer—it was time to face whatever lay behind that door.

  "Let's go," she whispered.

  Weapon in hand, Finn threw the door open and strode into the room. The office was dimly lit by a single desk lamp, casting long shadows across the walls lined with bookshelves. A young woman stood near the far wall, her cell phone pressed to her ear, tears streaming down her cheeks. The sudden intrusion startled her, and she let out a scream.

  "Police!" Finn said. "Are you alone, ma'am?"

  The woman just stared back, apparently too shocked to answer.

  Sheila scanned the room, feeling a knot of confusion forming in her chest as she realized there was no one else present. Her muscles tensed, ready for action, but there was nothing—just the terrified woman staring back at them.

  So where was Pastor Walden?

  "Are you okay?" she asked the woman, concern lacing her voice.

  The woman swallowed hard, her eyes darting between the two officers. "I'm fine," she insisted, clutching her phone tightly. "I was just talking to my husband. What are you doing here? Why did you just barge in like that?"

  Before Finn could answer, a voice from behind Sheila and Finn made them spin around. Pastor Walden stood in the doorway, his brow furrowed in puzzlement.

  "Is everything alright?" he asked, glancing between the officers and the distraught woman. His eyes lingered on Finn's drawn gun, concern etched on his face.

  Sheila's mind raced, trying to make sense of the situation. Had they misread the danger? Was this just an innocent conversation that had sounded more sinister than it actually was? She couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was still off.

  "Pastor Walden," Sheila began, her voice steady despite the adrenaline still coursing through her veins. "What exactly is going on here? Why was the front door locked?"

  The pastor's concern shifted from the terrified young woman to the officers invading his church. He frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I didn't intend for it to be locked," he admitted. "It must have been an accident."

  Sheila scrutinized him, trying to gauge the sincerity in his words. She couldn't help but feel that there was more to the story than a simple oversight. Turning her attention back to the tearful woman, she decided to pursue a different line of questioning.

  "Who is she?" she asked, nodding toward the young woman who still clutched her phone, her body pressed against the wall as if seeking safety.

  "Her name is Tess," Pastor Walden replied, his voice growing softer, almost protective. "She's my secretary. She's been having some...marital problems lately. It's been quite distressing for her."

  As Sheila studied Tess, she noticed the shadows beneath her eyes, the way her hands trembled ever so slightly. There was no doubt in her mind that this woman was genuinely distraught, but whether or not that had anything to do with Pastor Walden remained to be seen.

  "Marital problems?" Sheila asked, her eyebrows raised. She glanced between the two, observing their interactions closely.

  "Tess simply needed someone to talk to, and as her pastor, I'm here to provide support."

  Sheila exchanged a glance with Finn, her mind racing with possibilities.

  Finn cleared his throat, shifting the tense atmosphere of the room. "Whatever the case, Pastor Walden, we're going to need you to come with us to the station and answer some questions."

  "Questions?" Walden asked, looking puzzled. His gaze shifted to Sheila. "Does this have to do with the matter we spoke about yesterday?"

  "Yes, it does," Sheila said.

  Walden sighed. "Of course, of course. Whatever you need. I wouldn't want to hinder your investigation."

  Sheila's gaze flicked to the computer on Walden's desk. "We'll also be taking your computer with us."

  Walden's agreeable demeanor soured at the mention of his computer. "Why would you need that? There's confidential information on there—people's personal matters."

  Finn reached into his pocket, producing a search warrant. "We have a search warrant, pastor. It's standard procedure."

  Walden hesitated a moment before reluctantly nodding. "Very well."

  As Finn led Walden out of the office, Sheila headed over to the computer.

  "Can I help you with anything, detective?" Tess asked, her voice cracking slightly as she dabbed at her tear-streaked cheeks. Apparently, she had finished her call.

  Sheila glanced at the young woman, taking in her vulnerable state but maintaining a professional demeanor. "We're just going to ask Pastor Walden a few questions," she said nonchalantly, avoiding any specific details about their investigation. She began gathering up Walden's computer, unplugging cords and detaching peripherals with practiced ease.

 

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