Page 92 of Stolen Faith
Jonah turned to his daughter. “You don’t realize what you’ve done.”
She blinked. “But, Daddy…they aren’t righteous like us!”
“Oh, but we’re so much smarter,” Izabel cooed.
“I… You…” TiffaniGrace sputtered.
“We want to know two things. Why and how,” Devon said calmly. “Tell us why we were kidnapped. Why Barry thought this was a good idea. Then tell us how you found out about the Trinity Masters. After that, all my questions are things Barry can answer.”
Barry thrashed on the cart, shouting into the gag.
This was what Juliette and Devon had argued over before leaving. Devon wanted to focus on specific information—who were the professional guards who’d been helping Barry. Were they with a company, and if so, which one? Devon had his reasons for that, and if he’d felt better, if he hadn’t been distracted by pain, he would have asked them back when they had Barry in the classroom.
Sadly, it had only occurred to him once they were on the move. They’d agreed they would question Barry again once they got him up here, but Juliette wanted to ask her questions first. Devon’s priority was getting all of them, but particularly her, out of here as quickly and safely as possible.
Juliette’s priority was the safety of the Trinity Masters. Which meant, she needed to know how Barry knew about them. The source of that information was either TiffaniGrace or more likely, her father Jonah. She also needed specifics on what they’d planned to do, how they’d planned to “expose” the secret society. They’d ask Barry, but since he’d intended to give them to his girlfriend as a “gift,” she was probably the one in charge of that.
Both those things meant Juliette’s priority was questioning these two.
“We aren’t going to tell you anything!” TiffaniGrace shouted. Then she looked at the cart. “Barry, are you hurt?!” She started toward him.
Two things happened at once.
Rowan moved to intercept TiffaniGrace, and Barry fell off the cart.
He’d been thrashing and rocking and finally overbalanced. He crashed to the ground, cracking his head against a brass statue of a bald eagle on the way down.
Shit.
TiffaniGrace screamed. Rowan moved fast, hooking an arm around her neck and putting the gun to her head. It was a good thing he had because Jonah Morgan had started forward. It wasn’t clear if he’d been running for the door or his desk—maybe there was another phone or a weapon they hadn’t found. Either way, he stopped when he saw Rowan holding a gun to his daughter’s head.
“He’s still alive,” Izabel reported, kneeling by Barry. Brennon was cutting through the yarn that bound him in a hogtie. “But there’s already a knot forming on his head.”
“Keep him tied up,” Devon snapped.
Brennon looked up, mouth set in a hard line, but he obeyed.
Izabel and Brennon positioned Barry so he was lying on his back, then tied his wrists and ankles together.
“Fuck,” Devon murmured. “We needed him.”
Juliette’s stomach clenched. Without Barry, they might not be able to get answers for the questions Devon wanted to ask.
Rowan released TiffaniGrace, who ran over to her father.
There was silence for a moment. Juliette wasn’t sure why everyone else was quiet. Maybe they, like she, were mentally adjusting to this development.
Jonah turned to his daughter. “I told you Barry wasn’t good enough for you!”
Brennon let out a surprised snort of laughter.
“This is his gift to me, to us,” TiffaniGrace insisted.
“You shouldn’t have told him about…them,” Jonah countered.
“But I had to tell him! They killed Mama, and if Barry is to be my husband, and to take your place in the pulpit when the Lord calls you to his right hand—”
Reverend Morgan rubbed his eyes wearily. “TiffaniGrace, that man is an idiot. He is never going to inherit my kingdom.”