The pastor straightened. “Of course, I don’t expect that.” His sullen expression suggested otherwise.

“There are professional companies you can hire who specialize in these sorts of situations.” Eban turned around and offered his hand to the victim’s daughter. “I’m SSA Winters. I am sorry for your loss.”

The brows crinkled behind thick glasses. The young woman was clearly not taking everything in. It took people time to process trauma.

“Do you know why anyone would kill my mother?” she asked quietly.

“Not yet, ma’am. I assure you we are working hard to figure it out. Here’s my card if you need to contact me.”

She nodded, still in shock. Her gaze drifted to the floor, and she raised her gloved hand to her mouth as she covered a sob. “I can’t believe that’s her blood. I can’t believe someone would do that to her. She was such a good person. She dedicated herself to helping others.”

The pastor went to take a step forward, but his daughter gathered the woman against her chest and shuffled her to the door.

The pastor dropped his hands. “I’ll call on you tomorrow, Carman. I’ll pray for you.”

Both women ignored him and the door slammed shut behind them.

Regis blew out a heavy sigh and made his way gingerly around the edge of the church hall. Chairs were stacked against one wall. A table sat in front of a kitchen hatch with two large urns placed upon it.

Eban followed him into the kitchen where the pastor started hunting through cleaning supplies stacked in the corner. He picked up a large red bucket and mop and came back to the sink.

“I missed you at the shelter this morning,” Eban began quietly, trying to get a measure of the man.

Pastor Regis nodded as he filled the bucket with hot water. “Ray phoned to say you were asking after me. I was busy organizing the vigil and then I picked up Carman from the airport. I planned on calling you back tomorrow morning.”

“Carman was lucky to get a flight.”

“She was.” The pastor nodded listlessly toward the gruesome floor. “I honestly didn’t expect to have to clean this up myself. Adele usually…” He trailed off and hid a sniff. “I know it’s all part of His plan but it’s hard not to question your faith when someone commits a senseless act of violence in your own church.”

Eban made a noncommittal noise. He wanted the man to keep talking.

The scent of bleach filled the air as the man added a large bolus of Clorox to the steaming bucket of water. Regis grabbed a mop and visibly struggled to lift the bucket out of the deep sink.

Eban took it from the man and carried it into the hall. Set it down in a clear space.

He stared over the bloody floor. Adele had lost a lot of blood. He eyed the drag marks coming from the door into the church itself. Unlike Martin Carstairs, she’d taken her time to die and had suffered considerably.