grady barrett (ashadowgrows) wrote in shadows_rpg, @ 2018-05-22 11:08:00 |
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Entry tags: | #october 2017, grady, grady x mal, mal |
Who: Grady and Mal
When: Mid afternoon
Where: Word of the Redeemer Fellowship Church
Status: Complete
It was an exhausting week and Grady had been more or less working non-stop, searching for any sign or clue as to what happened to Amelia Lucas. He had put in a request for all of the vendors who had attended the Sixers Festival, as well as an updated list of the sex offenders in town. He and his deputies had already done a lot of footwork, interviewing neighbors, but there just seemed to be nothing to go on. No one had seen a thing. No one seemed overly suspicious and as far as Grady could tell, nobody was lying. He still wasn’t sure what he thought of Amelia’s parents, and he wasn’t ready to let them off the hook just yet. He had done his best to try and forget what he’d experienced in the Rogan house, wanting to chalk it up to stress and lack of sleep, but being unable to fully brush it off as something explainable.
Today he found himself parking near the Word of the Redeemer Fellowship, aware that he wasn’t likely to find anything about Amelia inside of it, but Grady had been refusing to let any stone go unturned, and he was aware that sometimes when people committed a crime, they found themselves seeking forgiveness or salvation from clergy. He was hoping that if someone knew something about Amelia Lucas, maybe they had spoken to someone else in confidence. It was probably a slim chance, but a chance nonetheless.
Grady knew the church was generally an ‘open door’ policy, so he walked inside, not surprised in the least to find it empty. Grady walked down the aisle between the pews, glancing around out of habit to take in his surroundings. It had been a long time since Grady stepped inside a church, especially for religious reasons. He had stopped believing years ago, but he certainly didn’t judge anyone else who found comfort here.
It had been an interesting week so far. Mal thought the protests at the Festival had gone well enough -- they’d certainly gained some attention, and that was the point. And then the little girl had gone missing. It was upsetting to everyone, naturally, but Mal tended to think that it was deserved. If, as a town, they were going to flirt with the forces of darkness so brazenly, it would naturally have consequences. He’d joined in a few of the searches just to let himself be seen doing it, and had put up the Have You Seen Me posters in the front windows when asked to. People in his small congregation had come to him wanting to pray about it, and Mal indulged them, but he felt like he knew that little girl was gone. Sacrificed on the altar of depravity. The wages of sin was death.
Or ... this place was just hungry for children. It had occurred to Mal that Amelia Lucas might have fallen into the same trap he did as a much younger child. Perhaps she was being held, trained, changed. It was just another reason for him to make careful, calculated moves to do something about it.
The Word church did have an open door policy, but that door had a bell on it that chimed in Mal’s office, so he knew when someone came in. He looked up from where he was taking notes for a sermon, and stood. It was Thursday, and that didn’t usually bring in many visitors with the lack of a service, but more people sought God in dark times. He was dressed rather casually in khakis and a plain dark blue t-shirt as he walked out of his office and down the hall to the sanctuary door. Mal stepped out near the front of the room, to the left of the dias. It was the sheriff, interesting.
“Afternoon, Sheriff Barrett,” Mal greeted with an easy smile as he approached.
Grady was nearly to the pulpit when Mal appeared and he offered out his hand to shake. "Reverend." He didn't visit this church, or any church, so he knew his presence must be curious to Mal. With the obligatory handshake out of the way, Grady glanced around again before refocusing. "Everything's been well, I hope? How is your daughter?" Just because he didn't attend church didn't mean Grady wasn't up to speed with the people who ran them. Mal had been in town for about a year now, and hadn't caused any trouble but for some public protesting that a few people had complained to him about. All in all, Mal seemed to be a trusted member of the community, which was part of the reason why Grady was there.
Mal gave him a firm, warm shake and a nod, then smiled at the questions. “Everything’s been just fine,” he assured the man. “Sam is doing well. She’s upstairs doing schoolwork, I believe. Or she ought to be, you know how teenagers are.” He chuckled and tucked his fingers into his pockets. He knew the sheriff had teenage children of his own, though he didn’t think Sam had socialized with them much, since she was homeschooled and the Barrett kids hadn’t lived in town long. Mal preferred it that way. He trusted her, but mistakes could happen, and better they didn’t happen around the offspring of law enforcement. “How about you? What brings you here?”
"Oh yeah, I know how teenagers are," Grady said with a soft chuckle. Thankfully both of his kids seemed to be doing pretty well in school. He hadn't gotten any phone calls from their teachers, at least. As usual, there was a sliver of guilt that he wasn't around to parent as much as he should, but he couldn't really focus on that right now. "Well, to be honest, Reverend, things have been better. We've run into a wall, searching for Amelia Lucas. I'm checking in with the various churches in town, wanting to know if you've heard anything. Anything at all." Gossip was gossip, and it got around, and at this point, Grady was willing to take any tip and run with it.
“Please, just call me Mal,” he told Grady, giving him another warm smile. He felt the man’s vague parental guilt, but that was a common feeling amongst parents, Mal had found. It could come in handy to him sometimes, but Grady wasn’t a member of his church and likely wouldn’t be, so Mal dismissed it. He looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered. “Yes, I was disturbed to hear about the girl’s disappearance ... I’ve encouraged my congregation to go to the police if they have any information. But no one has come to me with anything.” It was true, he hadn’t heard anything verbally or otherwise, and Mal had been keeping both sets of ears open. “I’ll certainly keep an ear out, though. So there haven’t been any leads?”
It still bothered Grady on a deep level that the girl had allegedly disappeared in broad daylight and no one had seen a thing. It still made him wonder if Olivia Lucas was being honest with him about what had happened. He was frustrated, but not surprised, to hear Mal had nothing to tell him. That seemed to be the story of Point Pleasant. No one saw a thing. "We have a few we're checking out but nothing substantial," Grady said, even though it was probably more than he should say. "Have you had any new members of your congregation in the past few days? Anyone wanting to speak with you?" He knew there was no confession at this church, but he was sure members still sought out their pastor for guidance.
Mal was listening to Grady’s surface thoughts, and he could read the sheriff’s disappointment loud and clear. He could have some sympathy -- a good man wanting to do good for his town running into roadblock after roadblock had to be frustrating. He caught the bit about not quite trusting the mother of the girl, and found that interesting. It might be something to look into. Not that he was going to do any personal sleuthing to find the Lucas girl, but it wouldn’t hurt for a member of the clergy to pay the family a visit, right? Mal pursed his lips and looked thoughtful for a moment, then shook his head again. “I believe we had a few visitors on Sunday, I spotted some new faces, but no one came to speak to me personally. I assumed they were just curious because of the protest. We handed out lots of flyers at the Festival.”
Ah, yes, the protests. It wasn't Grady's business to tell anyone what to be offended by, although he found the whole thing rather silly. The protests and the festival. But the festival was an annual tradition, and it wasn't his place to shut it down. Grady arched a brow and studied Mal. "Any chance you got their names?" There was a very slim to non-existent chance that those new people could be suspects in Amelia's disappearance, but Grady needed to do his due diligence here. A guilty or heavy conscience sometimes drove people to church, before or after a crime.
Mal had been appreciative that the cops hadn’t tried to run him and his small group off while they protested. It was good to live in a town that respected their right to peaceably assemble. He would hate to have to sue such a small town, and having a good working relationship with the authority figures was important. “As I said, Sheriff, none of them came to talk to me,” he said, then perked up a bit as something occurred to him. “We do keep a guest book open at the front during services though ... I can show it to you? Perhaps some of them signed in.” Mal doubted it, especially if one of them had committed a crime, but it was something to offer, at least. Mal hadn’t heard anything suspicious in the congregation while he’d been preaching, but he couldn’t always catch everything, especially when he got on a roll.
Grady was of the same mind as Mal, that he doubted anyone who had recently committed a crime would sign their name in a church guest book, but hell, stranger things had happened in his town. "Yeah, if you don't mind," Grady said with a nod. "I appreciate it, Rev... Mal. I apologize if I've interrupted anything." He honestly had no idea what priests or pastors did during their 'free time' from Saturday and Sunday services. Some held other jobs, he knew, but there wasn't a lot he actually knew about Mal, or his daughter. That probably ought to change. Grady didn't even know who attended his church, while he was pretty familiar with St. Dismas's congregation.
“Not at all,” Mal said graciously, giving him another smile. “I’ve got it stashed in my office, hold on just a moment.” He turned to head back the way he’d come, slipping through the door and down the hall again. The guest book didn’t get much usage, but that didn’t bother him much. They were slowly but surely drawing in the people who needed to be there. Mal knew his flock wouldn’t be the biggest, but God had never been for the majority anyway. Chosen people were chosen people. He returned a few minutes later with the rectangular leather book, flipping it open to the latest page and offering it over to Grady. There were a couple of names from the previous Sunday, but they hadn’t left addresses or phone numbers. One had an email address that Mal hadn’t yet followed up on.
While Mal was gone, Grady started to wander again. Not too far, but he took a look around, his gaze drifting from the ceiling down the walls to the sides of the church. It wasn't as 'fancy' as St. Dismas, but it was decent, he supposed. Nothing looked out of the ordinary, but... why would it. This case was getting to him. Grady gave Mal a faint, grateful smile as he took the book. His eyes scanned the names, committing them to memory quite easily. There was two he didn't recognize. No phone numbers. That was all right. He had his own resources. "Thank you," he said, closing the book and offering it back. “I'm sorry to have bothered you today, Reverend." Old habits died hard, apparently. "I'll get out of your hair. If you hear anything..." He let the request trail off as he offered his hand to shake Mal's again.
Mal had always been slightly disgusted by the ostentatiousness of the Catholic churches -- at least ever since he’d been exposed to them. His instinct told him that God didn’t care about such things. Simple piety was best. So his church reflected that and most people responded do it. He listened to Grady repeat the names to himself a few times in his mind before he handed the guest book back. He had a good memory, Mal supposed that was a good trait in a cop. He accepted the book back with his left hand and then shook Grady’s hand with his right, giving him a small smile and a nod. “Never a bother, Sheriff,” he assured him. “I’m happy to help the community in any way I can. I’ll be sure to let you know.”
"I appreciate it. Thank you." Grady nodded and spared one more glance around the church before he started heading down the aisle toward the exit. He had a few more stops to make before heading back to the station, but he would call in the names to JC to get some checks started. It was probably nothing - it was almost always nothing - but he needed to cover all of his bases.