Page 12 of In Her Prayers

The forensics team worked around their leader with a quiet efficiency that belied the macabre nature of their task.They all focused on their various tasks until they heard the coroner’s voice call out to them.

“It’s definitely the same MO,” Melissa announced, her voice cutting through the hush of the room.She pointed to the discolored patches on the fabric, “Look here, and here—the use of quicklime...it’s identical.And it looks like another woman, but I think that this one might have been here a lot longer than the other.”

Jenna’s eyes absorbed every detail: the yellowed plastic, the linen shroud, the way the corpse seemed so eerily preserved.How many awful secrets were entombed within these walls, undisturbed until now?

As the forensics team carefully prepared to move the body, Jenna glanced at the somber faces of her team.

“We need to expand our search,” she said, her voice low but firm, resonating against the high ceilings.“This is now officially a serial killer investigation.We need to check every wall, every floor, every ceiling in this building.No stone left unturned.”

Jenna Graves surveyed her team, their faces reflecting the sober realization of what lay ahead.She met each of their gazes, seeing her own determination mirrored back at her.

“Let’s get moving,” she commanded softly, and they split up, spreading out into the sacred spaces with a new sense of purpose.Jenna heard the new taps begin against walls.Each knock was a question asked to the silent church, each potential hollow response an answer they were afraid to hear.

The sound multiplied, the tapping becoming a steady rhythm that filled St.Michael’s with its haunting beat.Jenna herself moved to a corner, listening intently.The noise of the investigation reverberated through the church, a chorus of inquiry.

Jenna headed to the nave, the quiet sanctuary now a crime scene.She drew on her gloves with methodical precision, her mind clear and focused.There was no room for hesitation; every moment mattered in the hunt for the truth.Her chestnut hair, usually neatly pinned back, had escaped its confines, reflecting the chaos that had unraveled around them.She tucked a stray lock behind her ear and approached the first wall with determination.

Her hand was steady as she began to tap again, listening for the hollow sound that would indicate another grim secret hidden within the church’s walls.The sound was stark against the silence, each tap a question, each echo a possible answer.Jenna moved methodically along the wall, her eyes narrowing as she concentrated on the sounds, deciphering their meaning.

Jake started his search on the opposite side of the nave.His presence was reassuring, his commitment to the case evident in his unwavering focus.They worked in tandem, though apart, each driven by a shared resolve to uncover the dark truths that lay buried.

The officers, each versed in their duties, spread out through the other sections of the church, their hands echoing Jenna’s movements.The tapping grew into a chorus, a grim soundtrack to the task at hand.Jenna felt a chill run down her spine, not from the cold stones but from the reality of what those sounds might reveal.

With each section of wall inspected, Jenna moved to the floors, her knees pressing against the hard surface as she examined each inch.There was no rush in her actions, only thoroughness, a reflection of her dedication to seek justice for the forgotten souls who had been concealed in these sacred confines.

The search continued, the persistent tapping a haunting reminder of the gravity of their investigation.Jenna’s intuition guided her, the same sense that had led her to so many breakthroughs before.It was a gift that came with its burdens, a connection to the unseen that often left her weary.But today, it fueled her, propelling her forward as they searched for the hidden horrors within the church’s walls.

It was a solemn search that spoke of secrets yet to be uncovered, of lives cut short and stories unfinished.Jenna wondered how many confessions these walls had absorbed, how many prayers they had heard.

Now, these same walls bore witness to something far darker.How many terrible deaths were hidden here?

CHAPTER SEVEN

The sinking sun casting elongated shadows across St.Michael’s Church as evening fell.The search of the church building had been methodical, each inch scoured with painstaking attention.After finding the second grotesque secret—another body, hidden away in a closet wall—the searchers had found nothing more.

Jenna had seen death before—too often—but this felt different; it was as though the very walls of the church were complicit in hiding the truth.The seeming absence of additional bodies did little to ease her mind.The church was old, its foundation laid by hands long turned to dust, and she knew that age could still obscure concealed places and mysteries to uncover.

Now she stood by the entrance to the church parish hall, a large room dedicated to community activities, and the only part of the church aside from the rectory that Jenna and her team was convinced harbored no bodies.Her eyes traced each parishioner as they slipped through the doors for a hastily called meeting.Hushed voices carried fragments of fear and speculation about the news that had spread after the first body was discovered earlier that day.A wildfire of rumors had already unsettled the small town.

Murmurs among the crowd announced the arrival of Mayor Claire Simmons.Jenna could see that even that normally steely woman appeared muted.

“Sheriff Graves,” Claire said, her words lacking their typical sharpness.

As Jenna returned the greeting, she observed the softening lines around Claire’s eyes.She knew that her work solving the murder of Claire’s brother Clyde had changed their interactions.Now, instead of suspicion, Jenna saw in Claire something akin to camaraderie.Jenna wondered how long this goodwill would last.

When no more people were streaming in, Jenna left her stand at the door and moved to the front of the parish hall, where Father Walsh stood at a podium offering nods and soft words to his parishioners.Jake was standing nearby, calmly checking out the crowd, and Pete Martinez lingered to one side, the hollows under his eyes deep with what he had discovered.

Jenna felt the weight of every gaze when Father Walsh called on her, and she stepped up to the podium.

“Good evening,” she began, her voice stilling the sea of murmurings.“Thank you all for coming on such short notice.Earlier today we uncovered something deeply troubling within St.Michael’s.I believe most of you know that two hidden dead bodies have been discovered.”She paused, not to dramatize but to allow for absorption.“We can’t go into more details about this discovery now.But because of this, the church will remain closed to the public until further notice.”

“Excuse me, Sheriff Graves,” a voice called out, slicing through the hum of whispers that followed Jenna’s announcement.A woman in her sixties, with worry-lines cradling her mouth, stood up, her hand quivering slightly.“We need answers!Is it true what they’re saying?”

“I heard they found a whole cemetery under the floorboards!”an elderly gentleman proclaimed, his voice shaky with the thrill of scandal.Jenna’s heart sank.The fiction of the town’s imagination was quickly outpacing reality, and she knew the dangers that such stories could pose.She had seen fear turn neighbor against neighbor before, and it wasn’t something she wanted to witness again.

“My cousin said it was the work of a satanic cult!”Another parishioner chimed in, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and excitement.Jenna recognized the woman as the owner of the local bookshop, usually a merchant of romance novels and history texts, not wild conspiracy theories.

“Is it true that the bodies are hundreds of years old?”a teenager asked, his voice cracking under the weight of his own morbid curiosity.Jenna noted the boy’s pale face, the way his friends leaned in to hear her response.

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