The door leads us into a surprisingly dry, warm cellar. We creep through it, making our way toward the middle, where we hope to find steps leading us upstairs. We do, and I hold my breath as we climb slowly up toward the door. Dean stops, the light from the flashlight on his phone just illuminating his finger coming to his lips.
We stand at the door, listening. There's no movement on the other side.
"Go," I whisper to Dean.
He reaches for the knob. "It's locked."
"Damn it. We need to get inside."
"Give me a second."
He hands me his phone and pulls a slim tool case out of his pocket. I've seen him use these tools before. I hope they're reliable this time.
The old knob takes a few tries, but Dean finally succeeds in popping the lock. The sound is magnified in the quiet building. We stand still, holding our breath, waiting to see if anything responds. When it doesn't, I reach for the knob and open the door.
Out of the cellar, the building is cool. The smell of incense and wood oil is strong, and I let it help me decide which way to head.
"What if there are cameras?" Dean asks.
I shake my head. "Not in a place like this. There's no one here that hasn't been extensively vetted and earned the trust of everyone else. They don't need cameras."
We get to a set of large arched doors, but I don't open them. Instead, I follow the wall around to the side where there's a small hallway.
"Where are you going?" Dean asks.
"When I was little, our grandmother brought me to a church like this for a wedding. It wasn't as elaborate, but it was an old country church. There were hallways on either side of the sanctuary so people could get up to the altar without having to walk down the aisle. There should be a door that brings us right where we want to be."
We get down the hallway, and I find the small access door. Stepping through, it brings us to small curved areas on either side of the pulpit. Dean holds his phone up to shine the light ahead of us. The wheel is right where it was positioned in Lakyn's photo. Using its placement, I follow along the wall until I find a large plaque. I call out for Dean.
"Did you find it?" he asks.
"It's right here."
Taking out my phone, I shine the flashlight on the plaque. The picture Lakyn took of the plaque couldn't have been taken at the same time as many of the other images. The mirror ahead of me is where Sam noticed the reflection of the robed men. If she was standing here when she took that picture, they would have seen her. It means she came here more than once.
In the picture Lakyn took, the words engraved into the small metal plates attached to the large wooden plaque were indecipherable. I could only make out the word ‘sponsor’ on one and a name on another. Now that I'm looking at it again, I can see that each of the plates has two names. The first name has a date beneath it, and the second has the word ‘sponsor’.
“Look,” I point out to him. “A couple of these have the same person listed as their sponsor.”
“Check the dates,” Dean says. “Is it what you thought?”
Running my fingertips over the names, I compare dates with the web of notes written on the paper back at the police station. The more that line up, the harder the knot in my stomach and the harsher the burn in the center of my chest. My hand rests on one plaque in particular.
"Lorenzo Tarasco. Sponsored by Sterling Jennings. October 21st, 2008. That's the day Andrew died."
Chapter Forty-Nine
The sound of a door closing somewhere deep in the building makes my heart stop. I look at Dean.
“Go,” he whispers. “Go back the way we came. I'm going the other way.”
“We shouldn't split up,” I whisper back.
“We’ll move faster and hide more quickly if we go separately,” he says. “Just get back to the cellar. And if you can't get there, head up. Go up any stairs you happen to find. They don't use the upper floors of the building.”
We can hear voices now. There's no more time to waste. I turn off my phone, so the light isn't visible, and shove it into my pocket. Then I open the door to the hallway and slip out. Holding the doorknob, I gently ease the door closed, so it doesn't make any noise. Without the light of my phone, it's hard to move through the darkness, but I use my memory of getting here to guide me.
There's more light in the hallways in front of the sanctuary, thanks to big windows along the upper portions of the walls. All I need to do is get out of the hallway, through the center of the building, and back to the cellar door.
But I don't make it.
As soon as I step out of the hallway, I see a group of hooded, robed figures standing in front of the doors to the sanctuary. I back up and run up the hallway toward the access door into the sanctuary.
There's nowhere else to go. No doors in this hall lead to the outside. All I can do is run through the sanctuary. When I do, I find the other access door and burst through it. Right into the arms of one of the men.
He lets out a surprised gasp, but I shove against him to shut him up. He clatters back against the wall, sending echoes through the old church.
Not good.
The other group of robed figures head up the hallway to the source of the commotion. I whip my head around, considering my options and
