It Started With A House: Lizzie. Book 1 (The Westport Mysteries) (26 page)

 

Chapter
Twenty Seven

 

It
was a really quick drive to the Global Ministry from Mum’s. It only took me
about five minutes and I was there.

Driving in, I
was amazed how big this place was. The car park alone was the size of a
football field. The front of the building was almost triangular in shape, a
cross standing proud on the top, overseeing everybody who walked through the
doors. There were two separate entrances, both with canvas canopies, reminding
me of a very expensive 1960’s hotel.

The building
stood about three stories high at its highest point and was glass from floor to
ceiling. Huge palm trees flanked the entranceways with a wide circular drive
drawing worshippers towards the doors.

It was
immaculate. There was not a single blade of grass on the lawn out of place nor
was there a single leaf daring to drop and mar the perfect landscape. This
church was so far removed from Riley’s it was hard to comprehend they were both
built for the same purpose.

Finding a park
near the door, I walked up to one of the entrance doors, pulled on the
oversized chrome handle and walked into the air-conditioned hall. Inside it
reminded me of an entertainment arena with lots of double doors that all opened
onto the foyer, allowing hundreds of people to enter or exit, whatever the need
may be. Walking down the hall, I saw the nameplate of Pastor David Thornton
attached to the last door on my left. The door was open but no-one was inside. I
walked back up the hall on the plush carpet and looked around for somebody to
help me. Wondering if they might be in the stadium, I quietly walked over to
one of the doors and slowly opened it.

Wow
can be the only word to describe the inside
of the room. It was huge. If I had to guess, I would think it would hold a
couple of thousand people, with a raised stage in the center, looking down over
the—at present—empty chairs. The largest monitor I’ve ever seen was
suspended over each side of the square stage. There was no way you could miss
anything if they had a live video feed running to those while the show was on.

That’s what it
reminded me of. This was a show you came to see.

At present
though, the arena was empty. Turning around to leave, I walked right into a
lady so small she made my mum look tall.

“Can I help
you?” she asked.

It was hard to
pick her age, probably in her sixties. Yet she was dressed to perfection. Her
tiny frame was clothed in a very expensive Chanel suit, her hair was pulled
back in a rather severe bun and she wore Prada glasses, with absolutely
immaculate make-up. All in all, she reeked of money.

“Oh, I’m so
sorry,” I said, stumbling backwards, putting my hand on my heart as if that
would stop it racing. “I’m looking for my grandma. Mabel Philips? She was here
today with a seniors group and I was asked to come and pick her up early,” I
explained.

For such a
small lady, she was really formidable, reminding me of an expensively dressed
headmistress. “Of course, follow me, please.”

She led me back
out of the arena and towards the rear of the building. Reaching David
Thornton’s office, she held the door open for me to enter and I felt my pulse
pick up again. This was almost like being sent to the headmaster’s office, and
I hadn’t even done anything wrong.

“Please take a
seat. I’ll find somebody who can help you.” She left, leaving me alone in the
room.

I took the seat
as directed, but pretty soon found myself feeling restless. These chairs were
actually bloody uncomfortable. The may look lovely and expensive, but damn they
were hard. Oops. Sorry God. I was in a church so I probably shouldn’t curse.

Getting up, I
took a good look at the room. It was a reasonable size, with a large stainless
steel and glass desk in front of me. Apart from the iMac computer sitting on
the corner of it, it was pretty well clear of anything. Behind it was a large,
black leather, high-backed chair. I could just visualize the good pastor
sitting there, passing judgment on all who sat before him.

On the wall
behind it was a huge portrait of a rather superior looking man and woman, with
two small children sitting at their feet. The photo looked quite old and I
suspected it was David Thornton’s grandparents with his father and aunt sitting
at their feet. Remembering the documentary I’d seen on TV, the little boy—who
looked about ten in this photo—would be Charles and the girl his younger
sister,
 
Mina.

Old photos
really fascinated me. I loved looking at the way people used to dress and the
way they posed for photos. There was absolutely nothing natural about any of
it. I wanted to take a closer look at it, but the door opened and Pastor
Thornton walked in with Grandma Mabel. As he offered a seat to Grandma, I sat
back down and waited to find out what was going on.

“Hello. I’m
David Thornton,” he said, extending his hand for me to shake. This was the
first time I got a good look at him. Our last meeting in the hospital was a bit
blurry and wasn’t really a meeting, as such. He wasn’t as tall as I remembered,
maybe about five foot seven, his dark hair cut to perfection, dressed
immaculately in a well-cut suit, minus the jacket which was on a hanger near
the door, a dark blue shirt and tie. Taking his hand, I noticed he also got a
regular manicure, as his nails were shaped to perfection.

“Hello. I’m
Lizzie. Mabel’s granddaughter,” I said, quickly retracting my hand before he
got to have a look at my manicure, or should I say, lack of.

“I’m very
pleased to meet you, Lizzie.” His voice was just as smooth as I remembered it.

“Thank you for
coming down here early to collect Mabel. There has been an incident this
afternoon and I felt it was best she go home,” he said, sitting in the large
chair behind the desk. “In fact, it saddens me to say, but I would rather Mabel
never return. Her behavior will not be tolerated here at the Global Ministry.”

Looking at
Grandma, I wondered what the hell she’d done to get thrown out of a Church. I
mean, didn’t they forgive everyone here?

“Well,” I
hesitated, “What happened?” I looked at Grandma. She’d been pretty quiet up to
this point, which was unusual to say the least.

“Without going
into too much detail, let’s just say she was found in a compromising position
with one of the other patrons.”

“Grandma, you
weren’t with Ben Willett again were you?” I said turning to her and trying to
look shocked. It wasn’t too hard really. I mean she was eighty-two and we were in
a church.

“Well, he’d
taken a blue tablet this time and I thought what a waste if I didn’t make use
of it.” She actually had the good grace to blush.

At this point,
there was a quiet knock on the door and small headmistress lady poked her head
around the door. “Excuse me, David, but Mr. Willett’s family is here for him.”

“Oh, of course.
Would you ladies please excuse me for one moment while I get them settled?” Not
waiting for our reply, he got up and followed small lady from the room.

 
“Grandma, you are eighty-two and we are
in a Church!” I said as soon as Pastor Thornton was out of earshot.

“Well, at least
if I carked it you wouldn’t have to take me too far.”

“You’re lucky
I’m the one to come and get you and not Mum. She’d be giving you a good old
lecture right now.” I couldn’t help but smile. You had to love Grandma’s
spirit.

“Yeah, I know. You’d
think she was the mother and not the daughter, wouldn’t you?”

After a few
minutes of silence, I wondered how long we were going to have to wait. Maybe
Grandma and I could sneak out while the good pastor was busy. Trying to decide
what to do, I continued my look around the room, but my attention kept going
back to the photo on the wall behind the desk. Something about it was yelling
out to me, but I couldn’t figure what it was. Just then, the door opened and David
Thornton walked back in.

“I apologize
for the interruption,” he said, sitting back down. “Now, I can assure you, Mabel,
Ben Willett has had the same punishment as yourself. He will not be invited
back here again either. I know you are both elderly and that the natural urges
of youth don’t just disappear, but the Bible clearly does not condone sex
outside of marriage.”

Listening to
him lecture Grandma and thankfully not me, my eyes went back to the picture
behind him. And that’s when I saw it. Sitting on the third finger of the lady’s
left hand, sat Avis’s engagement ring. There was no mistaking it. The ring was
far too unique to be any other.
 

“Is everything
alright, Ms. Fuller?” he asked me, concern marring his perfectly smooth face.

“Um, yes!” I
said a bit too over brightly. “I was just thinking how awful Grandma’s behavior
is and I’m sure Mum will chastise her suitably.” I grabbed Grandma’s arm and
almost dragged her from her chair. “Come on, Grandma, we’re going home to talk
to Mum.”

Grandma looked
at me as if I was crazy, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to get the hell out
of there as fast as possible. My brain was working way too fast and I just
couldn’t connect the dots. What was the ring doing on the finger of old lady
Thornton? How had it got from her, to Will and then to Avis?

Standing, David
Thornton reached over to shake my hand. “Thank you for your understanding,
Lizzie. I’m sorry it had to come to this,” he said, holding my hand a second
longer than necessary.

Had he realized
what I saw? Panic surged through me now. I wanted to run away and hide until
I’d figured this all out. Surprisingly, Grandma managed to keep up with the
pace
 
as we almost sprinted to the
car. Well, Grandma was actually doing more of a fast shuffle. I had just beeped
the doors open, when I felt a hand on my arm, preventing me from moving any
further. Spinning around, I expected it to be David Thornton and prepared
myself for the worst.

But the man who
stood in front of me was definitely not David Thornton. Instead, he was about
my height and my age, had what looked like premature baldness creeping in, and
was dressed really badly in old jeans and a t-shirt a couple of sizes too big
for him. I don’t think he’d got the memo involving the dress code around here. But
he was completely unnerving in the way he looked at me, never blinking once.

“Can I help
you, please?” he asked.

I had no idea
who he was or what he was doing. Hardly daring to breathe, I waited to see what
his next move would be, adrenalin at the ready, prepared to run or fight. Opening
my car door for me, he aided me into my seat and pushed a piece of folded paper
into my palm. With a small, almost imperceptive nod of his head, he moved
around to Grandma and helped her into the car as well.

“Have a good
day, ladies,” he said with a small salute as he turned and walked back towards
the building. I didn’t take the time to look at the paper, I just got in my
little car and drove away from there as fast as my wheels would take me.

“What a lovely
young man,” said Grandma Mabel.

“Really? You
don’t think he was a bit strange? The way he showed up out of thin air?”

“Did he? I
never noticed.”

Five minutes
later, we were pulling into Mum’s driveway when my phone rang. Looking at the
caller ID I saw it was Molly.

“Hi, Lizzie, I
found that photo and you’re in luck. The license plate of the car was just
visible. Are you ready?”

“Hang on, let
me just grab a pen.” Looking through my bag I finally found what I was looking
for, turned over the note the strange man had given me and prepared myself for
the number that would hopefully link all this together and solve this damned
mystery. “Okay. Fire away.”

Molly read off
the number and, after thanking her, I rang Riley. Mum, meanwhile, had run out
to the car to help Grandma inside.

Taking grandma’s
arm, mum turned to me. “Can you explain to me why the police were knocking on
my door looking for you?” she asked, obviously unsure who she should be the
most upset with.

Oops. I’d
forgotten about them

“I’ll be there
in a minute, Mum,” I called out, dialing Riley’s number. “I’ll explain
everything.” Would I? I had about two minutes to come up with a good excuse.

When my call
finally connected it went to message bank, so I left Riley a message with the license
plate number and
 
hung up. Then I went
inside to face Mum and see how Grandma would explain this afternoon’s antics. Not
real well, as it turns out.

Mum had Grandma
sitting at the kitchen table, standing over her and trying to get Grandma to
talk. Grandma had obviously thought the best way to deal with this was silence.
Looking at me, Mum raised her eyebrows and waited for me to explain.

“Grandma was
making out with Ben Willett and the Church frowned upon it,” I said, shrugging
my shoulders and feeling a lot calmer now I was in mum’s house.

“What do you
mean,
making out
?”

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