hear his words, his conviction. But now, struck by grief, he spoke in short, tired sentences, his voice almost monotone. Tatum could still glimpse a shadow of what the man used to be. A dramatic movement with his arm. A word spoken with sudden emphasis. But it was all jittery, spastic reflexes. Pastor Lamb was gone, perhaps forever. This was Albert Lamb, a widower who’d lost his only child.
“Do you know who made the memorial board?” Tatum asked. Whoever made it probably had other photos from that picnic. Maybe they could see who Glover was talking to. Maybe there would be another photo of Glover. Anything that could shed light on the time Glover spent in that community would help them pinpoint his partner.
“A congregation member. Terrence.”
“Can you give us his phone number?”
Albert picked up his phone from the table, tapped the screen a few times, and handed it to Tatum, who copied Terrence’s phone number.
Zoe persisted. “Can’t you think of anyone Glover was close to? Did you maybe see him sit next to the same person at church? Maybe he’d show up with someone? Leave with someone? Any person at all?”
Albert shrugged. “Like I said, he helped a lot of people.”
“What sort of people?”
“People who could use his experience. People with a similar background who wanted to turn a new leaf.”
Tatum felt nauseous. He glanced at Zoe, saw her eyes widening as she began to understand as well. “People with violence in their life?” he asked.
“Yes. Soon after he joined the community, he told me he would be glad to shepherd others like him. People who grew up with violence and had been violent. People who might feel uncomfortable coming to me or Patrick.”
“Or Catherine?” Tatum suggested.
“Well, Catherine was still young back then. She didn’t really offer counseling yet. So I told everyone that if they had violence in their life, and they wanted support they couldn’t get from me, they could approach Daniel. That he could help them become better men.”
The pastor had let the killer of his daughter into his church and might have even introduced him to his accomplice. “We’ll need a list of all the people who approached Daniel.”
“I don’t have one. The whole point was that this was confidential, that they could approach Daniel without talking to me or anyone else first.”
They stayed in Albert’s living room for ten more minutes, Zoe rigidly silent, Tatum asking questions, the pastor answering them quietly, almost distractedly. And if he knew anything about Catherine’s murder or about Rod Glover, it was hidden behind the impenetrable wall of his grief.
Eventually, they showed themselves out. Zoe walked to the car, her footsteps brisk, as if she needed to get away from Albert Lamb’s house as fast as possible, and Tatum kept pace. He knew her well enough to easily see her rage in the twist of her lips, the narrowing of her eyes.
He should have been used to her anger by now; Zoe was always impatient, quick to flare up. She was easily annoyed by stupidity or by someone disagreeing with her or, even worse, ignoring her opinion. But something in her demeanor right now set his teeth on edge. This wasn’t Zoe’s usual temper, like a fire in a dry field, burning fast, gone in minutes. This was a slow simmering emotion that could stay boiling hot for long.
“If we knew who Glover was talking to that day, it would be something,” she said.
“Why that day in particular?” Tatum asked.
“I don’t care about that day. But this was one time when there’s an actual shot of him, something we can trust. The camera doesn’t lie.”
“You think Albert lied to us?”
“I think Glover lied to him, and he’s passing on the lie, which is the same thing. And every single person in that community has been told some version of the same lie. No matter who we talk to, it’ll be vague stories. But the photo tells the truth. It can show us facts. I want to see how Glover interacted with those congregation members, who he talked to, the kind of people he was attracted to.”
“Okay,” Tatum said, pulling out his phone and finding Terrence’s number. It was time to see if there were any more photos.
CHAPTER 23
Terrence Finch was a professional photographer, and he told Tatum that he would be in his studio until evening. The studio was in South Ashland Avenue, a quick drive from Albert’s home. Zoe seemed so electric and volatile that Tatum actively