The Lord Is My Shepherd Read Free

police to do that. By asking the same questions, but varying the language and prompting for more and more detailed responses, they could often get more information out of witnesses than a simple narrative. They also could tell if a person was lying. It was hard not to slip up when being questioned like that. The second detective had made it almost all the way around the sanctuary when he stopped and bent down. The officer whistled low, and their detective turned to look.
    “Miss, I'll be right back,” Mark said and hurried to join his partner.
    The two bent over to examine something on the floor. Because Jeremiah's line of sight was blocked, he couldn't see what they were looking at. When they stood up, though, he could read their lips.
    The cards belong to the woman. She tripped over the body, and they went flying. Still, make sure you tag them all.
    Done. You get anything solid from her?
    Not yet. She seems clean, but she could just be a good actor.
    Her car was still warm when officers arrived, and this guy's been dead for several hours.
    She could have killed him last night and come back today.
    I don't think so. The pastor says that she was at the hospital most of the night with one of the elderly members of the congregation who was dying.
    We got a confirmation on that?
    I'll call the hospital. I don't think we have anything to worry about with her. How about the guy?
    Works next door. Heard her screaming and came to help.
    Mark walked back toward them. The detective crouched down and touched Cindy's shoulder. In his hand he held a small plastic bag. Inside was a silver cross and chain encrusted with dried blood. Etched into the center of the cross was a lamb.
    “Have you ever seen this before?” Mark asked.
    She straightened slightly and nodded. “That's a Shepherd's Cross.”
    “What's a Shepherd's Cross?”
    “The church gives them out to Shepherds. They're members who volunteer to visit the sick and the shut-ins.”
    “Like you?”
    “No, I'm not a Shepherd, just a secretary.”
    “And just how many Shepherds are there?”
    “Thirty.”
    “Is there any way to know which Shepherd lost this? Any distinguishing size or markings?”
    She shook her head. “They're all identical. You don't think—”
    “Is there anything else you can think of? Did you see anything unusual?”
    “I don't think so.”
    Seeing the blood-covered cross had excited Cindy's interest, but Jeremiah could see she was about to cry again. If a Shepherd had been responsible for the murder, it would be devastating to her.
    “I don't think she remembers much right now,” Jeremiah offered. “She's still in shock.”
    Mark looked at him again with intense scrutiny. Even though it made him uncomfortable, Jeremiah knew how to sit quietly and stare back calmly.
    “Okay,” Mark relented. “Ma'am, is there a place we can reach you if we have any further questions?”
    Cindy nodded and gave the detective her home phone number. Jeremiah then gave his to the detective as well.
    “One last thing, did either of you touch anything?”
    Jeremiah shook his head no. Cindy nodded.
    “The door and the light and … him … when I rolled him onto his back. And, of course, my cards.”
    “Nothing else?”
    “I don't think so,” she said.
    Mark turned back to Jeremiah. “We're done with her for now, so she might want to go home. We still need to question the rest of the church staff. She should consider taking a day or two off. I'll call later this week if I have more questions for either of you.”
    “But I can't take time off,” she said. “This is Easter week, and there's so much to do.”
    “Cindy, you can call your pastor later today and make that decision with him, okay?” Jeremiah said.
    “I suppose … ”
    Mark continued to stare at Jeremiah. “We're not done talking with the other people who work here yet. I can get one of the other officers to take her home.”
    “You probably need them here. I can run her home,” Jeremiah