The Penitent One (Boston Crime Thriller Book 3) by Brian Shea (ereader manga TXT) 📕

today. Take me back to yesterday morning, the point where you were at church. Walk me through the time from when you entered the church, where you sat, and anything you may have noticed when you left."

"Well, like I said, I attend church every Sunday. I thoroughly enjoy Father Donny's sermons. They seem to speak to me." She winked at Kelly, and he knew the underlying meaning of her words, so obviously stated.

The wink was added for his benefit. Barnes noticed and nudged him under the table. Kelly tried to ignore the contact.

"I like to sit up front so I can be close to really hear what he has to say," Shoemaker said, pausing for effect. "I don't remember seeing anybody that stuck out. How am I supposed to know what a killer looks like?"

Kelly knew this was true. This was the same conversation that he’d had with O'Brien. There was no way to pinpoint or identify a killer by looks alone.

Historically, in the early stages of criminology, eighteenth-century French physician Franz Josef Gall believed human behavior could be directly linked to physiological traits; in particular, he believed the shape of the skull served as a predictive trait. Certain measurements of the cranial cavity, known as phrenology, stated the size and shape would dictate a person's propensity for violence and criminal activity. It had been proven over the years to be an inaccurate scientific approach and debunked, although movies and television still exacerbated the theory that a person could spot a bad guy by looks alone. Kelly knew this was not true, but it was important he ask anyway, to see if anything caught her eye.

He believed people had an innate ability to perceive threats in a subconscious manner, like an animal who knew it was prey and scurried away. That feeling, the tingle at the back of the neck, was where thousands of years of evolution and survival instinct kicked in.

The subconscious brain perceived threats at different levels, but whether the person brought it to the forefront, recognized, and reacted to it was another story. These mental walk-throughs, slow and paced, were designed to call to the forefront of a witness’s mind things their conscious had dismissed.

As far as Debbie Shoemaker’s recall of anything usable, they were batting zero.

"Like I said, Mikey, I don't remember anybody that stood out from the crowd except, of course, Father Donny. Now if you’d been there in the crowd, I would have noticed." She gave a coy smile and batted her eyelashes.

It was like being stuck in a bad movie with a B actress overplaying her flirtations. Worsened by the fact that Barnes, sitting to his left, was thoroughly enjoying every single second of it. She hadn't interjected once, leaving Kelly to fend for himself against the outlandish comments.

The banter, the back-and-forth between Shoemaker and Kelly, and Kelly's uncomfortable responses seemed to amuse Barnes to no end. He knew that when this interview was over, she would not hesitate to bring it up endlessly.

"All right. So nothing during the service that stood out, or when you went in, or people around you. How about afterward? Am I correct in assuming that you stayed to go to confession?"

She took a sip of her coffee and chortled a scratchy, raspy version of a school-girl giggle. "I don't stay to confess my sins, Mike. I hit the confessional every once in a while in the hopes that I'll get a little private time with Father Donny. Much to my disappointment"—her brow furrowed—"he wasn't there. It was Father Tomlin."

"And how did you know? Isn’t there a screen vent between the two rooms that obscures you from seeing each other?"

"I knew as soon as I heard Tomlin's voice. As soon as I realized this priest was expecting me to confess my deep, dark sins, I apologized, made the sign of the cross, and left."

"And that was it, you left? Was there anybody else in the church when you departed?"

Shoemaker started to shake her head no, and then stopped herself. "Yeah, come to think of it. I don't know why I didn't remember this before. There was a guy..."

For the first time since meeting with Shoemaker, Kelly was fully interested in what was going to come out of her mouth next. She made a smacking sound as she continued to chew the gum, even though she had already started drinking her coffee, now lukewarm if not cold. A disgusting combination that Kelly tried to ignore. Her incessant gum chewing became more erratic and noticeably louder. The nervousness was obviously setting in.

"Okay. Take it slow. You saw somebody else in the church. Do you remember if they were standing or seated?"

"I believe he was seated a few rows back from the front of the church. I can't exactly remember where. I do remember that as I passed by, something caught my eye. I really wasn't paying any attention. Not my business. I’m no busybody."

Kelly held back from laughing out loud, knowing that in her job as a hairdresser and owner of a beauty salon, she was a master of gossip. “Okay. Well, what can you remember about the person? It was a male, you said guy."

"I do remember that. He was definitely a TDH."

Kelly shot a glance over at Barnes, who shrugged. "TDH?" Kelly asked.

"Tall, Dark, and Handsome."

Kelly fought the urge to roll his eyes. He had never heard the acronym before, but again, he was out of the loop when it came to that sort of thing. He was sure some type of emoji would go along with it if it were sent via text message. Another aspect of modern life that seemed to have slipped by him. "Okay, so tall, dark, and handsome. But you said he was seated, that you remember."

"He was," Shoemaker answered. "But I could tell he was a tall man." She paused. "He didn't pay me any mind. He was kneeling in prayer."

Kelly listened intently, allowing Shoemaker to revisit the images in her mind.