Page 29 of Her Last Escape

"Saw a donor wall back by the coffee bar. Lot of corporate logos."

They found Thorne's office exactly where Walter had indicated. The door was open, and to Rachel's surprise, the pastor's face lit up when he saw them make their way toward the entrance.

“Ah…the agents from yesterday!” He rose from behind his desk, gesturing to the chairs on the opposite side. They were comfortable-looking leather armchairs, not the utilitarian office furniture Rachel had expected. "Please, come in.”

They settled into the chairs, but Rachel found that stepping into his office made her slightly uneasy…though she wasn’t clear why.

Rachel shook her head as they sat, taking in the office. Unlike the rest of the building, this space felt more traditional – dark wood bookshelves lined with theological texts, a few religious paintings on the walls, and a large wooden cross behind his desk. The window overlooked a small prayer garden, where a stone fountain bubbled peacefully.

“Any progress finding your murderer?" Thorne asked with a bit too much cheer.

“We’re working towards it, but nothing certain,” Rachel said gauging his expressions. "Actually, we just came from New Horizons. We saw the aftermath of yesterday’s protest."

Thorne's brow furrowed, genuine confusion crossing his face. "I'm sorry. I mean…surely that's not why you're visiting me this morning."

"You’re right, that's not why we're here," Rachel clarified, still studying his reaction. His bewilderment seemed authentic, but she'd seen skilled liars before. "But I am curious – why target New Horizons specifically? There must be other causes that concern you."

"Ah." Thorne leaned back, folding his hands across his stomach. A gold wedding band caught the light. "They're the only facility of their kind in the state, as I’m sure you know. According to my research, they’re one of only a dozen nationwide. And when you're trying to open the world's eyes to its own sins, you have to start in your own backyard."

"And beyond your backyard?" Rachel prompted. "What else troubles you about the world, Pastor?" She honestly didn't care. She just wanted to get a better picture of the sort of mind they were working with here.

The question ignited something in Thorne's eyes. Rachel got the sense that she had just extended an invitation that Thorne had been waiting for—perhaps for a very long time. He leaned forward, his chair creaking. "Where do I begin?" His voice took on a different quality, and Rachel recognized the shift into what must be his preaching cadence. "We live in an age of unprecedented moral decay, agents. Take abortion – the systematic murder of innocent lives, sanctioned by our government. Or our worship of false idols – celebrities, athletes, social media influencers…none of whom carry the cross of Christ but instead tear down our morals and values." His voice grew more intense with each example. "People bow at the altar of their smartphones instead of at the feet of Christ."

Though he remained sitting, Rachel could tell by his posture and the way his hands were suddenly very fidgety that he wanted to get up and start moving around. "But perhaps most disturbing is our reliance on modern medicine to play God. We pump our bodies full of chemicals, replace organs like car parts, freeze ourselves in the hope of cheating death itself." His hand slapped the desk. "Death is not the enemy! It is the gateway to eternal life through Christ. These attempts to circumvent God's natural order – they're not just foolish, they're blasphemous!"

His face had reddened slightly, and Rachel noticed a vein pulsing in his temple. "We're watching science fiction become reality, and nobody stops to ask if we should! Genetic engineering, artificial wombs, digital consciousness uploads—and yes, that is a blasphemous science that is currently being worked on—it’s all an attempt to usurp the divine plan. And places like New Horizons?" He practically spat the name. "They're selling false hope to desperate people, promising them they can buy their way out of God's design."

Rachel let him wind down, noting how his chest heaved slightly. She glanced at Novak, who had been quietly observing the performance. "Have you ever had any trouble with the law, Pastor Thorne?" Novak asked once the storm of Thorne’s answer had passed.

The question seemed to deflate him somewhat. He sank back into his chair, straightening his tie. He sighed deeply and took a moment to answer. Rachel figured he was mentally shifting gears from the diatribe he’d just unleashed.

"Yes, just once,” he answered. “Three years ago, two of my parishioners and I were arrested while protesting outside a gentleman's club. First and only time."

“Why were you arrested?”

"The other men I was with were trying to speak to one of the performers before she went inside, trying to share the gospel. A patron seemed to take offense at this, and things got physical. I never threw a punch, only tried to break up the scuffle, but the result was denting a man’s car and the young lady being pushed to the ground. The cops saw it fit to arrest us all…except the young lady.”

"What about your congregation members?" Novak asked, speaking for the first time since they'd entered. "Any overzealous protesters in their ranks? Anyone you know of who might be prone to fits of violence?”

Thorne started to shake his head, then paused. "Well..." He shifted uncomfortably, his fingers tracing the edge of a Bible on his desk. "There was one incident. I had to counsel a member who'd been following New Horizons employees home after work. But we addressed it."

Rachel felt the information settle in her head like a bomb. It was an undeniable lead. "We'll need a name," Rachel said, keeping her tone neutral despite her growing interest.

Thorne hesitated, his fingers drumming on his desk. The fountain bubbled in the background outside beyond his window, a peaceful counterpoint to the tension in the room. "I suppose it's my Christian duty to assist…to bring truth to the light." He sighed heavily again, and Rachel did not think the war being waged in his head was a fake one. Much like Margaret Fenway, Pastor Thorne did not want to sell his people out. "His name is Jason Dewalt. A meek sort of man…in his fifties. But please, be gentle with him. He lost his wife less than a year ago. He's still struggling with it."

Rachel's interest sharpened even more. A man who admittedly tried following New Horizons employees home and had recently suffered a loss. Holy shit, she thought. This might be our guy.

"Did his wife have any connection to New Horizons?" Rachel asked.

"Not that I'm aware of." Thorne's eyes flicked to the cross behind his desk, as if seeking guidance.

“Pastor Thorne, I know you may feel bad about giving us that name,” Rachel said, “but you could have just helped us close this case…and save lives.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Agent Gift…but I hope not. I find it impossible to think of any members of this church capable of such terrible things.”

“Well…thanks all the same,” Novak said as he stood up from his chair.

Rachel joined him and they exited the office together. Rachel took one look back at Pastor Thorne and noted the anxiety that had crept into Thorne's expression as they departed. Walking back through the building, the morning light had shifted, casting longer shadows through the stained glass. Walter at the welcome desk waved goodbye to them as they made their way to the doors.

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