They both seemed surprised to see me. "I have a few more questions," I said after we exchanged greetings.
Mrs. Rankin said, "Did you just arrive?"
"No, I came in on the end of the sermon. Impressive, Pastor."
"I'm so thrilled you joined us tonight," said the pastor's wife when he didn't respond.
Rankin was wearing that odd smile that had made me so uncomfortable the other day, his eyes never straying from me. Finally he spoke. "You've brought the light again. More light to fill our church home and our hearts, Abby Rose."
I thought this aura business might have been a diversion last time, but now I wasn't so sure. He seemed so sincere, so mesmerized by me when it should have been the other way around.
As for Mrs. Rankin? She was definitely bothered and was staring at him with that same confused look I'd noticed yesterday. "Andrew, the only light you seem to be speaking of comes from God or from Jesus, our savior. Please remember that."
I decided it was time to fish or cut bait, get to why I was here. "Why didn't either of you tell me Lawrence knew Sara?"
Mrs. Rankin didn't miss a beat. "You never asked."
Now that answer pissed me off. Not wanting to burn my bridges, however, I bit my tongue and sweetly said, "Okay. I'll try to be direct. Did you suspect they were having a little romance?"
"Of course not," said the pastor. "I told you before, he was... black." He whispered the word "black," a tactic used often in these parts to let a listener know where a speaker stood on race relations. I already knew where the pastor stood, though. Blacks might be welcome to worship here, but they would never really belong in the fold.
"Sara had no boyfriend," Mrs. Rankin said. "She was very involved in charity work, school, many other things, too. Besides, she'd left for Mexico before the murder, so I'm unsure why it even matters that they knew each other."
"The police never asked about her either, did they?" I said.
"No. She wasn't here the night Lawrence was arrested. They had no reason to ask," she said.
"Some people happen to think Sara and Lawrence were close, maybe even intimate."
"Intimate only with God." Pastor Rankin had flushed so red I thought we might need to call the fire department. His eyes had filled, and I was worried he might plunge over the deep end again.
"I didn't come to upset you, Pastor," I said. "I'm trying to get at the truth."
"Oh, I know," he said. "The light of truth follows you everywhere. God is helping you in your quest. Allow Him to lead you down the righteous path. Give in to His wishes, and the truth will follow."
Problem was, Rankin's so-called righteous path led me to this church, but his unwavering stare made me wish I was somewhere else. "Are you certain you knew nothing about your daughter's relationship to Lawrence?" I asked.
"There was no relationship," Mrs. Rankin said, placing a manicured hand on her husband's sleeve. "You know how spent you are after a sermon, Andrew." She looked at me. "The sermons sometimes take him someplace else, a place where his senses are heightened. I think he needs to rest."
I said, "Well, I'm not resting until I learn the truth. See, there's a man sitting in prison for a crime he didn't commit. If Sara was the person you say she was, she'd want you to help him—not take a nap right now, Pastor."
"Yes... she would want to help," Rankin said. "Sara cared so much for the less fortunate, the—"
"Please let him gather himself before you continue," Mrs. Rankin said. "We are willing spirits, but a church this size has its stresses."
"I hate to be persistent, but I need to know about Sara's trip," I said. "When did she leave? When did you find out she was missing?"
"Maybe we should go into the office," Mrs. Rankin replied. "All I ask is that you be gentle with Andrew. He has not healed from our loss despite accepting God's will. Any questions concerning that time are distressing."
Andrew took my elbow as we walked down the hall to the office. "I feel so humble in your presence, Abby Rose. Your dedication to your cause, the determination in your eyes—how I wish I had half of your passion."
I fought the urge to pull away from his touch. How could someone go from being vibrant and in charge of a huge audience to downright disturbed in less than an hour?
Since they were vacuuming the pastor's office, we opted for the library and sat in those cushy chairs. I took a deep breath before I spoke. Having had a min ute to think made me realize that being a little less pushy might be a better approach with them.
But before I could open my mouth and offer a kinder, gentler Abby, a lady in turquoise scrubs with little panda bears all over the fabric came rushing into the room. I recognized her as the one who had been driving the van yesterday.
"Pastor? I—" She looked at me. "I am so sorry to interrupt." She stood there, her fingers working, obviously distressed.
Pastor Rankin stood, his concern evident. "Is it Chester? Is he going downhill?"
The woman nodded.
Reading my questioning look, Noreen Rankin said, "This is Olive, our nurse's aide. She visits the shutins, makes sure they get medical care, takes them out to pick up their medicines. We don't know what we'd do without her."
Olive sure had a huge job if she was serving the gigantic congregation by herself. Maybe there was more than one aide, though.
"Noreen, Abby Rose," said the pastor, "I'm needed elsewhere. Will you forgive me if I leave?"
"Is someone sick?" I asked.
"Yes. Please return, Abby Rose. We have much to discuss and the light... I think I understand now. You've been sent to help me past the sorrow."
From the corner of my eye, I saw Mrs. Rankin close her eyes and shake her head. Maybe she needed to consider upping his meds.
The pastor left with Olive and I turned to Mrs. Rankin. "Tell me about your daughter. You must have loved her very much."
If Noreen Rankin was unnerved by her husband's less-than-normal behavior, she'd stuffed it down. She rested against the cushions, raised her eyes to the stained-glass ceiling. "She was our angel. Gifted in so many ways. God must have needed her, called her to His side."
"She left for the mission trip several weeks before Lawrence was arrested, correct?"
"Yes. Our ministry was working in central Mexico with a town in need of help. Sara felt the calling."
"But what about school? It wasn't summer, so she was supposed to be in school, right?"
"School is more than a classroom and textbooks, Ms. Rose. Her education never stopped."
"She went alone? Didn't that worry you?"
"Her father took her, left her in the hands of the pastor there. Andrew was much more in touch with reality back then." She looked me straight in the eye. "He does have some lingering emotional problems, as I'm sure you've noticed."
"But he is a wonderful speaker," I said with a smile, at a loss for anything better to say.
She just smiled back.
I had to fill the awkward silence, so I moved on. "When did you realize Sara... wasn't coming back?"
Mrs. Rankin fiddled with the hem of her pale yellow sweater and spoke softly, saying, "May. We got a call, that horrible phone call every parent dreads. She'd fallen and they couldn't find her body. What a nightmare. We spared no expense searching, but she was gone. I have spent years learning to accept God needed her and took her. I am at peace with that today."
"The pastor's not at peace," I said.
"He's not always in touch with the world outside that sanctuary. He thinks she'll walk through the door one day, still sixteen, still as full of life as ever."