Page 93 of Stolen Faith

“He was smart enough to hire professionals,” Devon interjected. No one else would know, but Juliette could tell he wasn’t as calm as he seemed. Losing Barry, and therefore possibly losing the answers he wanted, was worrying him.

TiffaniGrace ignored Devon. She was busily telling her father what a good man Barry was, but Jonah was looking at Devon.

“Barry doesn’t have the power to hire staff,” Jonah said.

TiffaniGrace winced, but her father didn’t notice.

“Not staff. He had help kidnapping us. Professional accomplices to all the criminal acts. Who are they? Security company? Private soldiers?” Devon cocked his head as if merely curious.

“He didn’t… There aren’t…” For the first time, the reverend looked flummoxed. He hadn’t seemed this surprised or shocked when they busted into his office.

“Have you looked outside?” Rowan asked.

Jonah went to the window. He watched for several minutes, then turned to his daughter. “There are guards with guns outside our church!”

“He doesn’t know.” Devon eyed TiffaniGrace. “But she knows.”

Jonah was yelling at his daughter.

“Shut him up,” Devon said to Rowan.

Rowan stepped forward, aiming at the reverend’s face. “Quiet.”

He stopped mid-word. TiffaniGrace’s eyes were wide.

“TiffaniGrace, what company did he hire?” Devon asked.

“I won’t tell you.” TiffaniGrace lifted her head. “You can torture me, but I’m not afraid of Satan. The holy spirit will lift me up.”

“I just need a name, so we can get this sorted and get us all out of this mess.” Devon’s voice was calm and reasonable. See, we all want the same thing. Just answer my questions.

Juliette knew Devon’s way would work. She should hang back, let him do this, even if he was asking his questions first.

But TiffaniGrace’s mention of torture ate at her. The leash on Juliette’s rage was slipping, and what TiffaniGrace had said made her want to let go entirely.

TiffaniGrace thought she wasn’t afraid of torture? Maybe they should test that.

Juliette looked at Izabel. “Controlled drowning, correct?”

Izabel looked over, then nodded once, her expression flat.

Juliette turned to Rowan. “Is that a bathroom?” She nodded to the wooden door in the corner of the office that he’d checked out earlier.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“With a shower?”

“Actually, a whirlpool tub.”

“He has a spa tub in his office?” Brennon shrugged. “That’s definitely for hookers and blow.”

“God, I hope no sex worker is desperate enough to put up with his bullshit,” Izabel breathed.

TiffaniGrace started screeching about how they’d insulted her father. Juliette ignored her and pointed at Brennon. “Go fill the tub.”

Brennon’s eyes widened, but he obeyed.

TiffaniGrace kept her chin up, but she looked less sure than she had a moment ago.