Okay, that was odd. His smile faded. The vibe he got chilled him to his bones. The whole attitude here was wrong. The place felt off. That self-righteous air that seeped from the walls of this building was upset this morning. Aaron lowered his brow and took a step backward toward the desk. With his safety being top of mind, he shouldn’t get too far in without knowing what was going on.

“Is there something wrong today?” he asked the secretary before remembering to turn his body so the cross pin could capture the image and conversation.

“They’re flaunting their sin. Pastor Helps is very unhappy this morning,” she said, as if that explained everything.

“I’m not sure what happened. I stayed up late reading my Bible.” Aaron repeated the words he’d heard over and over since starting his job at the church. That seemed to be a perfect excuse for anything not done around this place. It excused everything.

“Those homosexuals keep making the news. It’s disgraceful and utterly disgusting,” she whispered angrily. Aaron assumed she referred to Colt Michaels. He suspected the guy got regular coverage around here, being too popular to fade away easily.

So that meant their night out had worked. He hoped Kreed and the alphabet boys got that little piece of intel. His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he suspected that was Kreed confirming his thought.

“I didn’t see. I don’t watch that much TV. It’s the devil’s tool,” Aaron said, unsure really what else to say in order to keep her talking.

“It’s disturbing. They are abominations before the Lord. The Bible says they are to be put to death and their blood will be on their own heads. Leviticus 20:13.” Aaron was sickened by her words, but he just nodded, tried to look upset, and left the entryway. On the way back to his office, everyone who had already arrived had about that same attitude. These people were absolutely certifiable. The mood of the building was dark and totally creeped him out, sending a shiver racing down his spine.

The lone guy who now made up the entire IT department with him was actually in this morning, typing away on his computer. That was a little bit of a surprise. He never spoke, and Aaron wasn’t entirely certain of his name. Maybe something like Jeb, but the not-speaking part was nothing new. Techie guys weren’t usually known for their sparkling personalities. He’d learned Jeb’s absence came from spending lots of time in the chapel, on his knees. Prayer seemed the other acceptable excuse as to why the staff didn’t get their daily tasks completed. Aaron had only really seen Jeb a couple of times in passing since he’d started.

“I can’t get a video to play on my computer,” Pastor Helps barked at the door to their office. Aaron was the first to respond, moving in the direction of the pastor, who might have been a little more surly than normal, but it was honestly hard to tell.

“I’ll be happy to take a look for you,” Aaron offered, and Pastor Helps grumbled something unintelligible. The old preacher was slow on his feet, and Aaron stayed a step or two behind as they entered the administration office. Julie had about the same disposition as Stella, with her face all pinched up in disgust. No one around the place appeared pleased this morning. Mitch must have outdone himself last night. Aaron was kind of sorry he’d missed their little show. Again, his phone vibrated in his slacks, and after a second or two, he decided against checking who texted. If it were Kreed or Connors, surely they could see he was occupied. “What’s it doing?”

“It’s not playing,” Pastor Helps barked.

“Yes, sir. I mean, does it open?” Aaron asked.

“I don’t know. See for yourself.” The older man didn’t hover this morning, and that was odd. Instead, he took a seat across the desk while Aaron made himself comfortable in the one behind Pastor Helps’s computer. His guess was that there was a simple update that needed to be done, but he sat there longer than normal, trying to see if there was anything else he could get off this computer.

“I’m tired,” the pastor finally said, breaking the silence. Aaron looked over to see his head lowered; he was rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.

“Yes, sir. You work hard.” He had no idea what to say but wanted to keep him talking.

“You came from New Hope University, right? I remember a pastor there. He was a true fundamentalist to the core. Professor Lehman. Was he still there?” Aaron hated those kinds of questions because, while he’d schooled himself on the faculty, he had no idea who’d come and gone over the years.

Thankfully he was saved from answering the question when the door to the outer office flew open making a terrible racket as it banged against the wall. Aaron looked up as a tall, well-dressed man came barreling into the room. His insides ran cold. He knew the voice. Deacon Silas Burns. Julie barely got a greeting out before the Deacon began raging.

Hours of schooling himself on everyone involved had paid off. This was actually the first time he’d seen the deacon in person, since the man was supposedly in Mexico. He was as scary as his pictures looked. The disfigurement of his face came by way of a scar that ran from the center of his forehead down across the right eye, all the way to his ear. His face contorted with anger, his stance volatile and threatening.

The deacon came at the pastor in such a way that Aaron involuntarily scooted back in his chair, reaching for the weapon strapped to his calf inside his slacks. What he thought he’d do with it against the likes of this clearly evil man, he had no idea, but Pastor Helps was an old man. He had to try. When Aaron’s eyes moved back to the pastor, the realization hit him, stopping him in his tracks. Helps was just as enraged as the deacon.

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