Save Her Child by CJ Lyons (best historical biographies txt) 📗

He smiled down at her. “I have records. C’mon.” He set down his inventory clipboard and together they left the refrigerator and headed through the kitchen to his office, a tiny windowless room lacking any air conditioning. Harper’s palms quickly slicked with a sheen of sweat. Jonah’s office was a mess, crowded with lost and found items, stacks of donated books, toys, and toiletries, bags of clothing—the one closest to her was overflowing with winter coats—and boxes simply labeled Misc.

“It was good to see you at dinner today. I was glad you came. I think Mom and Dad were as well.” Jonah was the only one who got away with calling the Reverend “dad.”

“Yeah, I’m trying. They don’t make it easy, though.”

“You mean Dad doesn’t—”

“Would it kill him, just once, to acknowledge that my job is important, too?” She almost clapped a hand to her mouth. To voice such rebellion out loud? Unheard of. Jonah glanced at her in surprise and they both chuckled.

“One thing is for sure,” he said. “You’re not that timid little girl that we could sweet-talk into doing almost anything.”

“You sweet-talked. Jacob and John always bullied and blackmailed. Or locked me in the manger until I repented my sins and gave in.” The manger was a space hidden behind a false wall in the oldest part of the church, now used to store the Christmas nativity statues and other miscellaneous seasonal items. Originally designed as a safe room to shelter the church’s holy relics and valuables, it was a cramped, cobweb-filled, low-ceilinged closet saturated with the overwhelming scent of the creosote that had permeated the original building’s logs. A forgotten space that the church had expanded around and absorbed—forgotten except by bored young boys intent on harassing their little sister. “Not to mention letting me take the blame anytime we got caught.”

“Dad always took it easy on you, at least compared to us guys. We had to be toughened up, prepared to take on the mantle of responsibility that comes with saving souls.” His impression of the Reverend had her smiling. But then she remembered why she was there. Lily.

He shuffled through the maze of debris to his desk and turned on his computer. Harper stood in the doorway, careful not to move too much for fear of causing an avalanche. Over his shoulder, she could see the icons and folders filling his computer screen—it was as messy as his office space, but he didn’t seem to notice as he found what he was looking for with only three clicks. “Lily Nolan. Here we are.”

“I can get a court order if you’re uncomfortable sharing—”

“If she weren’t dead, I’d ask you to. But helping you find her family? That’s a blessing.” Typical Jonah, an eternal optimist, assuming that Lily even had a family who cared enough about her to grieve her passing. Harper couldn’t help but wonder where Lily’s family had been during her time on the street—much less what had caused her to leave home in the first place.

“She stayed here early last year. We helped her get into a recovery program.” He squinted at the screen and she wondered if he needed reading glasses. He was only thirty-four, but bad eyesight ran in the family and Jonah was the only one of the boys who’d avoided glasses as a child. “No emergency contacts or next of kin listed, I’m sorry.”

Harper sighed. Of course not. “How about a phone number? Her phone wasn’t with her, but if I can locate it I’ll be able to access its contact list.”

He scrolled down. “No, she left it blank.”

“Can you give me the name of the recovery program? They might have something in their records.” She’d need a court order to get the information, but it was her best bet given the other dead ends she kept hitting. Along with another chat with Macy. Somewhere far away from Macy’s new boyfriend.

Jonah nodded and scribbled the information onto a sticky note. Their fingers touched as he handed it to her. “Want to stay for dinner?”

She took the note and shook her head. A dinner invitation from Jonah meant standing behind a hot counter serving food before eating leftovers herself. After her long day—not to mention an even longer night ahead working the street for leads—she deserved a real meal. Which translated to ordering takeout and eating it while sitting at her desk, writing up warrants for Lily’s rehab records and catching up on anything Luka needed. She gave him a wave as she headed out the door, her mind already on her next steps. “Thanks, maybe next time.”

“Then I’ll see you next Sunday!” he called after her.

Harper pretended she hadn’t heard—she wasn’t sure how much more family she could take this week—and let the door swing shut behind her.

But then, almost as if her visit with Jonah had tempted fate, her phone rang: Rachel.

“Your father needs your help and I expect you to give it,” she said before Harper could even say hello.

“Help?” The Reverend never asked anyone for help. Never. Of course, he wasn’t actually asking, was he? He was letting Rachel do his dirty work. “With what?”

“You need to tell your father what the police found out. About Spencer Standish. It’s important.”

Harper snapped, “My work requires just as much confidentiality as his does.”

“A covenant with God is different, and you know it. Besides, he’ll never need to know you said anything. You can tell me and I’ll slip it to him, pretend I heard it from women gossiping—or Spencer’s wife, Tassi. That woman—” Harper could practically hear Rachel’s eye-roll.

“The Reverend is acting as Tassi’s attorney, so he has access to more information than I do at this point.”

“But he’s so worried—I’m worried for him, Naomi. I’ve never seen him this way. Please, if you find out anything, you have to tell me. Help me protect him. It’s what families do.”

Rachel’s answer to every argument. If a child misbehaved, it was wrong because