He’d found a phone number for Pastor Regis and whoever had answered the phone, presumably the man’s wife or daughter, said the guy had headed out to volunteer at the shelter to keep his mind off Adele’s grisly death. Eban pushed inside the front door and walked up to a reception counter.

The woman behind the desk ran her eyes over him and smiled. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for Pastor Regis.”

“In regard to?”

He flashed his creds. “A private matter.”

“Ah.” Her brows bobbed. “The murder at the church last night. He was in the office talking to Ray. Go through those doors and take a left.”

“Thanks.” Eban headed in the direction the woman had pointed. Fliers were pinned to the wall, offering services and help to those who needed them. They reminded him of periods of his childhood, and he ignored the feelings they raised inside him, instead striding along until he reached a door with “Director” labeled on the outside.

Eban knocked loudly.

It took a moment before someone opened it. The man who stood there was tall and brown-skinned.

“Pastor Regis?”

“Actually, no. I’m Raheeb Rasheed. I manage this place. Peter left a few minutes ago. You probably passed him in the hallway.”

“I didn’t pass anyone, Mr. Rasheed.” Eban kept his smile fixed firmly on his lips. Was the pastor deliberately avoiding him?

The man looked a little confused. “Huh. Maybe he went out the side door. Depends on where he parked. Call me Ray. Everyone does.”

“Thanks, Ray. I’m SSA Winters with the FBI.” Eban flashed his creds and Ray’s eyes widened. “I wanted to ask him a few questions about Adele Surrey. Did you know her?”

“Yes, sir. A little.” The man walked back to his desk leaving the door wide open in invitation. “Peter is pretty shaken. Terrible thing. Adele was a wonderful woman. We are all in shock about what happened. I mean, it could have been any one of us.” He raised his hands into the air. “And that other fellow, the young man from the university.”

“Martin Carstairs? Did you know him at all?”

Ray shook his head and then dipped his chin. “I don’t know why the police released that young lady from custody yesterday. Peter said she regularly attended meetings in his church hall. Seems like a heck of a coincidence that Adele is also dead now too.”

Eban stared at the man, keeping his expression neutral. “The young woman in question has an alibi for last night. She didn’t do it.”

Ray’s gaze sharpened then and he steepled his fingers on the desk. “You don’t say.”

“I do say. She didn’t commit these murders, although I understand it’s always easier to blame the first person the police pick up even if that person is the one to report the crime. It allows civilians the illusion of safety. Personally, I’d rather find the true culprit, so people actually are safer.”

Ray hummed. “Absolutely. We see this regularly with marginalized groups who can’t afford bail or competent attorneys. Darby O’Roarke has been unfairly accused?”