‘Have you ever seen this man before?’
Both men stared hard at the photo. A light of recognition appeared on their faces.
‘It’s him.’ The older of the two men stabbed the photo again and again. ‘We saw him enter the church that day the priest was killed.’
Relief rippled through her. She could scarcely believe her ears.
‘Are you sure?’
‘Unmistakable. No one has an underbite like that. He looks like a freak.’
‘He was in a big hurry, too. Left the church door wide open.’
‘When I went and closed the door, I found blood splatters on the doorstep.’
‘It rained later that day, too. You remember, Carlos.’
‘Washed the blood spatters right away.’
‘There was no sign of any blood the next day.’
‘And what about this man?’ She held out the photo of Trevor she carried with her just about everywh
