Sanctuary Lost WITSEC Town Series Book 1 by Lisa Phillips Page B

Olympia’s family took up a whole row
on the right side.
    Father Wilson stepped up to the podium in his
minister’s shirt and collar. Black pants and dirty sneakers
completed his outfit. “Welcome.” He smiled wide, his attention
settling on John for a moment since he was likely the only person
everyone didn’t know.
    John nodded but his head was too full of what
had happened to concentrate on announcements.
    Andra killed her.
    How Harriet had been so certain, John wasn’t
clear on. When he’d asked her about it, she’d just said, “She hated
Betty.” As though dislike was a good enough reason to stab someone
six times. It wasn’t outside the realm of possibility, but Andra
did not seem like the type.
    They stood to sing. John didn’t know any of
the songs and they weren’t the hymns he’d heard as a kid. He’d have
to see where the evidence led; interview anyone who might have been
around at the time other than the two young guys who found Betty’s
body.
    Palmer had been adamant Harriet wouldn’t lie
and they should go rouse Andra out of bed. The deputy was a little
too exuberant—probably because he’d only wanted to finish the
investigation and get home to bed. Like you could solve a homicide
in four hours.
    John figured he’d likely spend the bulk of
the month he was in Sanctuary occupied with this case. Hopefully it
would be solvable but without the knife and with him having no
access to testing equipment, that wasn’t looking good.
    They sat and Father Wilson spoke. His
gravelly voice smoothed out until the words sounded like poetry;
praising God even when he was surrounded by the enemy. John had
never felt the need to appeal to a higher power when he was in the
thick of something—like being tied to that chair awaiting Alphonz.
The idea was interesting, even if it wasn’t something he’d tend to
do. Who wanted to admit they were helpless?
    They stood again, while Father Wilson prayed
and then dismissed everyone for coffee and treats.
    Pat yelled, “Awesome!” The crowd rippled with
laughter as they stood and dissipated.
    John’s attention caught on the back of the
room. Andra sat by herself in the back row. He knew the minute she
saw him because she got up and left.
    John turned to Pat. “Go with Matthias. I’ll
be back in a minute.” He rushed out, but she was two buildings down
already. He ran and was about to call out when she spun around.
John pulled up. “Not staying for treats?”
    She didn’t cower or respond. She just lifted
her chin. “I didn’t expect you to be at church. I imagine you had a
long night.”
    “You heard about Betty Collins?”
    Andra’s face didn’t give away anything. “Word
spreads. Even to my corner of town.”
    “Anything you’d like to tell me about
that?”
    “About my corner of town?”
    John shook his head. “No, about Mrs.
Collins.”
    “Why would I have anything to say? She stayed
away from me and I returned the favor. I spoke to her the first day
I arrived, ten years ago next month. We’ve never had a single
conversation since. But there are a lot of people I never speak to.
I don’t come into town much.”
    “And yet I’ve seen you three times in as many
days.”
    Her lips twitched. “Extenuating
circumstances.”
    “So that was you, last night in the barn?
Team C?”
    “I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking
about.” But her eyes said different.
    “It would be better if you just told me. That
way I can account for your whereabouts for at least part of last
night. And if you told me where you went after the barn and whether
you met up with anyone else, I’ll be able to get started working
out who was where while the homicide took place.”
    “So I’m a suspect?” Something flashed in her
eyes. It could have been guilt, but there was so much genuine
surprise he couldn’t be sure. Was it surprise he’d spoken with her
so quickly, or surprise that he’d think it in the first place?
    “If there’s someone who can