Everyone Was Left Behind

by Steve Armstrong

“All I’m saying is that we need to address what happened without making the promises of God look fraudulent,” Jim Thompson said.

  “So what would you like us to do?” Gary Price asked.

  “Let’s speak about carrying on Pastor Wilcox’s legacy. I think we should emphasize his messages about the evil spirits that are controlling this world. And that we’re still committed to exposing them.”

  “Maybe that’s why God left us here—to save more people from the dark forces that control the world,” Glenda suggested.

  “Yes. And we should emphasize that Jesus is still coming soon. We were just a little early,” Jim Thompson said.

  Upstairs, Hope shook her head. “Even when everyone knows they’re wrong, they still won’t admit it. Just admit you were wrong. Admit you’re disappointed, confused, and grieving,” she said under her breath.

  “Okay, I think you’re right, Jim. We need to come out strong and show the world who we are. So we’ll make this the focus of our service on Sunday and I’ll record a video for the YouTube channel so our online followers will know what’s happening,” Gary Price said.

  The other people present nodded, though Charity noted that their agreement did not seem vigorous. She wondered how much—if any—unspoken dissent there might have been within the families.

  A forceful knocking on the door prevented any further discussion. Glenda Price rose from her seat to answer the door. When she did, Detectives Seitzer and Harrison entered. The two policemen looked around the room and realized more people were present than they anticipated.

  “Well, since you’re all here like this, we’d like Gary Price and Jim Thompson to come to the station with us for an interview,” Seitzer said.

  Jim Thompson, still standing on the other side of the room, crossed his arms. “Is that really necessary, Detective?”

  “You have two choices—I can ask my questions in front of all of these good people or I can ask you these questions at the station. At this point, I’m fine either way. You decide.”

  The look of defiance faded from Thompson’s face. He exchanged nervous glances with Gary Price and the two men stood at the same time to accompany the detectives out the door. Charity knew this development must have stemmed from her sister’s sleuthing. Hope recognized the look of disdain on her sister’s face.

  “Remember, Charity, the truth will set you free. You have to believe that,” Hope said. “It’s better to have everything out in the open.”

  Charity walked away without replying.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  “You know what I hate?” Detective Seitzer asked, staring across the table in the sterile interrogation room at Gary Price. “People who lie to me. And you lied to me.”

  Price sat in a chair, his posture bent. Maybe at Holy Spirit Tabernacle he wielded influence, but at the Woodside Police Station the man was powerless. And Seitzer possessed tangible evidence of his deceit.

  “What are you talking about?” Price asked, failing to muster any conviction that he was ignorant of Seitzer’s claim.

  “Financial records. You said the church didn’t keep detailed financial records, but you do. And I have a copy.”

  “Who gave it to you?” Price asked.

  “Doesn’t matter. What does matter is that you lied to me. And that means you must be covering up something. So what was it that you wanted to hide? Embezzlement? Inappropriate spending? Or something else?”

  Gary Price remained silent. Seitzer’s frustration ratcheted up a notch. “Or does it have something to do with the fact Jim Thompson never donated the money from his house and business to the church because he was bankrupt?”

  Even now, with the truth on display, Price refused to answer. Whether shame or fear of further revelations prevented Price from speaking, Seitzer couldn’t tell. “How did that work? Did you guys go in on that together? Why did you lie to the congregation?”

  Every question Seitzer asked seemed to deflate Price’s spirit a little bit more. Given that his demeanor approached that of a beaten dog when he first entered the station, there was now almost zero vitality in his posture, eyes, and expression.

  “He never asked me to lie for him, but I did anyway,” Price finally admitted.

  “Why did you cover it up?” Seitzer asked.

  “At first, Jim just pledged to give all the profits from selling his business and house to the church. Jim and his wife were probably the most generous givers we had in our church, so I figured he’d make good on his promise. Time went by, but he didn’t contribute any more money. I knew he had moved out of his house and wasn’t working anymore. That was nine months ago.”

  “Did you ever speak to him about it?”

  “No. I was too embarrassed to bring up the subject.”

  “Did you know he had financial problems?”

  “He never told me. I had noticed that his giving had dropped a bit lately, but he was still contributing, so I didn’t worry too much about it.”

  “Didn’t you feel guilty that the rest of the church believed he had made a sacrifice that he really hadn’t?”

  “Yes. But I thought it was a beneficial story for the church to believe. I thought it would inspire others to give.”

  “You never thought that the truth would damage people when it came out?”

  “I thought no one would ever know.”

  “What other false stories did you believe were beneficial for the church to believe? Did you even really think that Jesus was going to come back to earth on April 24?”

  “Yes, of course, I believed that,” Price said, a little vigor returning to his voice in the form of indigence.

  “You’ll have to excuse me for being skeptical at this point when you’ve given me plenty of reason not to trust you,” Seitzer said, unwilling to allow Price’s indignation to go unchecked. “Did Pastor Wilcox know about what Jim Thompson had done?”

  “No. He had no way of knowing. He never looked at the giving records.”

  “Maybe the Holy Spirit revealed it him,” Seitzer said, staring down Price. “You guys do believe stuff like that happens, right? Did Pastor Wilcox ever confront Jim Thompson about it? I mean at some point, even if Pastor Wilcox didn’t know about specific financial records, he might have had some ideas of what to do with the money Thompson donated and he might’ve questioned where the money went.”

  “As far as I know, Pastor Wilcox had no knowledge of what Jim did.”

  Seitzer was actually inclined to believe Price on this point. Pastor Wilcox had demonstrated the proclivity to confront sinners in full view of the congregation. Though perhaps he tread more softly when it came to church leaders.

  “I’m sorry I lied to you, Detective. It was wrong. I didn’t want to let people find out what Jim had done or of how I failed to do what I should have done in that situation.”

  “Well, you know what Revelation 21:9 says, right? Something to the effect that liars go to hell? I think there’s a children’s song about it if I remember correctly.”

  Price’s complexion paled; perhaps Seitzer had pricked his conscience. “I know I should have shown you the records. But I never thought Jim was capable of killing Pastor Wilcox, so figured it wasn’t relevant to the case.”

  “That’s what people in your church keep saying about each other.”

  Price looked dismayed. “Why are you so sure it’s someone from our church who did this? Why couldn’t it be someone from outside the church?”

  “Thing is, I keep finding people in your church who have a motive. But if there’s someone else you think who might have done it, I’m all ears.”

  An epiphany dawned on Price’s face. “There was a man in our church the night Pastor Wilcox was killed. I didn’t know him.”

  “I thought there were lots of people who you didn’t know coming to the church.”

  “There were. But this one acted strangely. He was wearing a hooded sweatshirt. I saw him in the office area while people were in the service.”

 
“What time was it when you saw him?”

  “Somewhere around 10:30, 11 pm, I think.”

  “Can you describe him to me?”

  “I never saw his face. He left through the back door.”

  “Was he tall, skinny, fat?”

  “Medium height, medium build. His right sleeve was rolled up and it looked like he might have had a tattoo.”

  “Tattoo of what?”

  “I couldn’t tell.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me about this when I interviewed you the day after?”

  “I didn’t remember. It was a pretty insignificant event in the context of that night. I had other things on my mind.”

  Seitzer stood and left the interview room. He wanted Price to think about what he’d done before deciding whether to release him or not. Price’s description of the visitor intrigued the detective, but also made him a bit suspicious. Perhaps Price and Thompson were just harmonizing their stories. Seitzer also needed to confer with Harrison, who had been grilling Jim Thompson in the other interrogation room.

  Harrison was already in the nondescript common area between the two interrogation rooms when Seitzer entered.

  “How’d it go?” the elder detective asked.

  “He told me a lot about his financial problems. He didn’t want to admit to others in the church that he was struggling. He knew he was going to lose the house soon and he knew the business was going under. So he seized the opportunity to save some face.”

  “Did Thompson think Wilcox knew about his financial situation?”

  “As far as Thompson suspected, other than his wife, Gary Price was the only one who could know. Everyone else seemed to be in the dark. And I do remember from the video sermons I watched that Wilcox praised Thompson for his generosity a month or so before the murder.”

  “Maybe it was ironic praise.”

  “Maybe. What do you think about these two guys?” Harrison asked.

  “We really don’t have anything on Thompson, except for a potential motivation and he had an easy escape route through the woods and cemetery after the murder. But we don’t have any physical evidence or eyewitness testimony that links him.”

  “So he’s off the list?”

  “Unless we discover some more evidence, I suppose he is. Price did tell me something interesting. He said he saw a man wearing a hoodie in the church the night of the murder. The guy left through the back door.”

  “How come he didn’t tell us before?”

  “That’s what I asked. Price said he didn’t think much of it because there were lots of people around that night. He said the man left around 10:30 or 11 pm. And the man also had a tattoo on his right hand.”

  “So it could have been Browning.” Harrison considered the possibility for a moment. “Since Browning knew the church well, he could have come back in, gone down to the basement, and waited in the tunnel until everyone left.”

  “Sure he could have, but why?”

  “I don’t know—because he’s supposed to be crazy?”

  “We need to get some more info on Browning. Maybe Jack Walton will tell us something about him.”

  “We could also interview the pastor who served as his reference.”

  “That’s a good idea. Why don’t you call Justin and get him to help us track down the pastor? We still need to see Natasha Gregorson, too. Her husband’s still definitely in play. And maybe she is, too.” Seitzer checked his watch. “As far as I know, she’s a stay at home mom. If we go over there now, we should catch her before she has to go pick up her kids.”

  Seitzer glanced at his phone to see if there were any messages. Nothing. He had expected to hear back from Justin regarding the results from his analysis of Elizabeth Wilcox’s cell phone. Hopefully, no further evidence against her would be discovered and Seitzer could drop her from the suspect list.

  Chapter Thirty

  Gary Price slammed the door to his home, causing Charity to jump out of the chair in the living room where she had been sitting.

  “Where is that girl?” His thunderous words made her heart pound until she realized he couldn’t be looking for her since he walked right by her. “Hope! Get down here, now!”

  Charity heard a door close upstairs. In another moment, her older sister emerged on the second-floor landing. The redheaded girl was busy tying her hair into a ponytail.

  “Yes, Father, is there something you need?”

  The racket now brought Glenda Price out of the kitchen. “What’s wrong, Gary? Are you in trouble?”

  Charity’s father ignored her mom’s question as he stared down Hope. “Would you mind telling me how the police were hand delivered a copy of the financial records from the church?”

  Hope smiled. “No, I wouldn’t mind at all. I went onto your computer one night after you had gone to bed, did some searching, found the records, then I gave them to Detective Seitzer.”

  Glenda Price gasped. “Hope! Why did you do that?”

  Gary Price fumed for a few moments before he spoke again. “I want you out of this house! And I don’t want you to ever come back until you’re ready to repent!”

  Charity’s heart contracted. The brief flicker of optimism that her sister and parents could be reconciled seemed to be extinguished in that one moment. If Hope had revealed her clandestine faith in Jesus before this incident, then maybe her parents could have looked at the girl with new eyes. But now it would take a miracle for them to reconsider the character of their daughter.

  “Well, this seems like a reasonable reaction, given the fact you’re the one who lied to the police!” Hope showed no signs of leaving quietly.

  Glenda Price looked askance at her husband. “Gary, is that true? Did you tell the police you didn’t have any records for the church’s finances?”

  “You were there when he said it, Mom,” Charity said, surprising herself. She seldom talked back to her parents but she couldn’t let this convenient fact escape her mother’s recollection.

  Glenda’s and Gary’s eyes turned to their youngest daughter, reminding Charity of why she stayed out of these sorts of conflicts.

  “So why are you mad at me, Dad? You were the one who sinned.”

  She had her father on his heels for only a moment before he regained his balance. “You sinned by disrespecting me and that broke one of the Ten Commandments.”

  “Well, if I broke number five, then you broke number six!” Hope retorted.

  “It’s also because of your motivations. You only did this because you’ve rejected Jesus and you wanted to ruin the church!”

  Hope stopped and a small smile spread across her face. Charity knew by that glance that Hope was going to drop her bombshell on her parents now and by the looks of it, she was going to enjoy doing so.

  “Okay, so here’s the thing about me, Mom and Dad—I’m still a Christian. I never really stopped believing.”

  “But you fornicated!” her mom cried. Charity blushed just hearing the word.

  “Yes, Mom, I did. And I asked God to forgive me. If I understand the Bible, He’s willing to do that, right?”

  “But then why did you stop going to church? Why did you mock the faith?” her mom asked.

  “I didn’t stop going to church, I just stopped going to your church! And I didn’t mock Christian faith, I mocked Holy Spirit Tabernacle!”

  Charity could tell her sister’s words were disorienting her parents. Even still, Gary Price’s rage hadn’t abated.

  “God’s word says a person is recognized by their fruit, and what is your fruit, Hope? Mocking your parents? Mocking your brothers and sisters in Christ? That is not the fruit of someone walking with the Lord.”

  “You’re right, Dad. I shouldn’t have mocked you or your church. I’m sorry. But I just couldn’t deal with the way Holy Spirit tabernacle is. The way people hide their sins and problems. The way they lash out at others instead of allowing themselves to be broken. If I ask you what you were trying to hide when you lied about the church’s f
inancial records, would you answer me?”

  Their father’s jaw line remained rigid, even if his anger had subsided a bit. His body language indicated no answer to Charity’s questions would be forthcoming.

  “That’s what I thought. You don’t want to admit what’s going on underneath. It’s just like when Faith died.”

  “How dare you drag your sister into this conversation!” Gary Price roared.

  “Because when Faith died I had all of these questions and doubts. For so long you told me that God would answer our prayers and heal Faith. But He didn’t. All I saw from you guys was the stiff upper lip. I felt guilty for even wondering why God would take her away from us. It wasn’t until later that I found someone in another church who would even listen to the feelings I had. God forbid you ever showed any weakness.”

  Charity could see emotion rising to the surface of her mother’s face, but it wasn’t anger. So many times, Charity had wondered if her mom felt the same away about her sister’s passing. Did she question God? Did she doubt? Did she shake her fist and want to curse Him for not intervening as they thought He would? Charity knew her sister did. But all she heard in the aftermath from her parents were the usual proverbs about God’s mysterious plan and that suffering made people stronger, which never assuaged her or her sister’s pain.

  Again, Gary Price did not respond to his daughter. Neither did Glenda. They stood still, paralyzed even. Charity wasn’t sure they could answer Hope even if they wanted to.

  “Do you want to know what you should do Sunday, Dad? You should apologize to everyone for supporting Pastor Wilcox’s prediction that Jesus would return April 24. Tell them that no one knows the date or time and that you were foolish to think that you could. Then talk about your disappointments, fears, and struggles. Let people know that these things are part of the Christian life, and not just their past lives, before they knew Jesus. Confess your own sin. Own up to the fact that this church is made up of people who are not who they one day will be. That will send a message.”

  By the time she finished her sermonette, Hope’s eyes blazed with intensity. She allowed the words to hang in the air for a moment before she retreated to her room. “I’ll pack up my stuff and leave tonight,” she said on her way out.