It opened. Jack slipped in and paused, keeping one hand on the door as it closed and listening for movement. There was none. It was dark inside. It smelled musty. There was a vestry off to his left, and several small rooms. It was packed with boxes, paperwork and stacked chairs. He continued on through several doors until he made his way into the sanctuary. There, he saw the priest kneeling with a Bible in one hand. Jack looked around cautiously before approaching him. He didn’t try to hide his gun.
The priest turned his head towards him.
“Where is she?” Jack asked.
“You’re asking the wrong question, Mr. Winchester,” the priest replied, beginning to rise to his feet.
Jack took a few steps forward and pointed the gun at him. “Stay where you are.”
The priest froze. “As you wish.”
“How do you know my name?”
“He said you would come.” He nodded. “He said a lot about you. He called you the angel of death. Is that what you are, Mr. Winchester? Someone who inflicts justice upon those who have harmed others? The one who balances the scales when the law fails?”
“Who is this person?”
“I’ve asked myself the same question. I now believe it’s the devil himself.”
“Give me a name.”
“I can’t.”
Jack snorted. Just like Garcia.
“Then answer this. Why you? Why get involved? What did you do?”
Jack was beginning to think they were nothing more than pawns in a game to be controlled. But how was he selecting them?
The priest didn’t answer him; instead he looked up at the stained glass window with the image of Christ. “Thirty-four years I have followed the Lord. Forsaken all things to live a life in service to him. I never once strayed from that path until…” he trailed off shaking his head and dropping his chin. “At first I thought it was God trying to test me, now I know it was the devil drawing me away.” He brought up a hand to his face to wipe away a tear. “I gave into it for just for a brief moment.” He looked over to Jack. “You know of this struggle, don’t you? I see it in you. We all face it. Light against dark. Good against evil. No one is immune. We are all but one choice away from stepping over that line.”
“I’m not here for a sermon, priest,” Jack said in an impatient tone. “Where is she?”
“I was a different person last year. I didn’t mean to touch the boy in that way. I just wanted to show him God loved him. I apologized after and the boy promised to say nothing. But now God is punishing me. This is my punishment.”
Jack frowned as the priest looked down at the ground.
“He said God would forgive me. That he was a messenger from God sent to give me another chance. That the police would never know if I did exactly what I was told.”
“Detective Garcia. He visited you today. Why?”
“To tell me that my slate was now clean.” He shook his head. “But my hands aren’t, my soul isn’t. I still see that child. I still see blood.”
Jack offered back a confused expression and then it dawned on him. “You murdered Cosmo?”
The priest looked at him for a second, and then opened the Bible as if he was about to quote scripture. “You must understand. If it got out that I had touched that boy I would have been removed from service. It would have brought shame upon the church. I couldn’t have that. Without this, who am I?”
The priest looked up at the glass window.
“I thought God was testing me like Abraham was told to sacrifice his son but at the last second he intervened.” He paused and got this forlorn expression. “God didn’t intervene. He didn’t intervene,” he said turning towards Jack with a pained expression.
“Priest. Where is Dana?”
The priest shook his head. “I don’t know where they took her. All I can tell you is I saw Arkansas license plates.”
Jack took a few steps forward, but before he could do anything the priest dropped the Bible only to reveal a handgun. The thick black book bounced off the top step and landed with the pages open. Jack noticed a large section cut out where the gun had been. He lifted his eyes to the priest.
“Whoa. Put it down!” he yelled. Jack put a hand out and slowly edged forward.
“It’s too late. For me. For her.”
“Please. She’s all I’ve got.”
“God, forgive me.” The priest closed his eyes.
Jack surged forward in one last desperate attempt to stop him.
The priest raised the barrel to the side of his temple and before Jack could reach him he squeezed the trigger. The sound of the gun echoed loudly in the sanctuary as the priest collapsed to the floor. His body slipped down the steps coming to rest at the bottom.
“NO!” Jack yelled. He slammed his foot against the floor in rage. He was so close. Right then Jack heard the sound of the main door clunking closed. He jerked his head towards the entrance but it was closed. Jack dashed towards the door, swung it back and dared to look out. There was no one there. No other vehicle in the parking lot but he was certain he’d heard it close. He scanned the church aisles and looked down through the pews. No one had entered. Was his mind playing tricks on him?
Jack made his way over to the priest and fished through the pockets of his dark pants for anything that might give him some connection to whoever had
