Chapter 6
Ewan
After having travelled the better part of a day, as the sun faded behind green hills, I arrived in the small Mississippi town in which the Mobley family allegedly resided. I stopped at a church in the center of Main Street, a hotspot of gossip, I figured, where the whereabouts of people like Celia Mobley might easily be revealed. A man there, all smiles, white teeth contrasting with pockmarked, chestnut skin, introduced himself as Horatio Pegram, the pastor.
“Ewan Parish.” I offered him my hand.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Pegram said, his handshake hearty, as if his words were true.
“I’m looking for a woman called Celia Mobley. Do you know of her?”
Pegram looked at my hand an extra-long time before he released it. His smile had fleeted and also, apparently, his voi
