A cloud passed over Mac’s face. “We’re inviting in a world of pain if we do that.”

How could she make him understand that this was a compulsion for her? That the desire to untangle the truth about Adam was the only reason she was able to keep going. That she was certain Lovell had some answers.

“I’ll keep you out of this, Mac.” Softly. “I promise.”

He drummed his fingers on the wheel. His face was baggy with concern. “Look, there’s something you should—”

“Wait.” She held her hand up, interrupting him. “I think he’s turning left.” She waited a beat. “Okay, he’s parking by the church. Let’s keep our distance. We don’t want to spook him.”

* * *

The choir was practicing in St. Margaret’s Church and their voices rose in joyful song as Wildeve and Mac pushed against the church doors.

Lovell was sitting four pews from the front, his head bowed. The scent of incense weighted down the air, underscored by the heaviness of lilies in several vases and wood polish, freshly applied. The pompous drama of the organ was fitting.

Wildeve walked down the central aisle and slid in on one side of Trefor Lovell while Mac took the other seat, blocking his exit. For a brief moment, it looked as if the man they had come to question was going to climb over the back of the pew and make a bid for freedom. But when he saw them, he collapsed onto his knees, the floor cushion beneath him.

As one, the choir filled the spaces inside the church with their song, and Lovell clasped his hands together in prayer.

Time seemed to slow down and still. Wildeve was aware of the singing, the sun seeping through the stained glass windows, the presence of Lovell, and the rising smell of his sweat. She was not religious. But there was something about being inside a church that moved her. Sometimes, it would have been much easier, a comfort during her darkest days, to believe in a higher power, a force for good, the reassurance of heaven.

But her mother had always insisted that if one believes in God, one must believe in a counterpart, the Devil.

Wildeve had seen enough of the destruction that humankind inflicted on one another to know there was evil in the world. That while most people were decent and kind, others were possessed by a malignancy, a cruelty. Despite the heat of the day, the coolness of the church made her shiver.

Seven minutes later, when the choir had finished its rehearsal and its members were calling out their farewells, Wildeve touched Lovell on the shoulder.

He lifted his head and she was surprised to see he was crying.

“Mr. Lovell—”

“I didn’t do anything,” he said, wiping his sleeve roughly against his face. “I didn’t mean to—”