Page 95 of Tristano

“But you’d rather try than say you didn’t.” I nod in understanding.

“Rothestein texted and said he would meet with you and you alone,” Conor tells him.

“You two will have to wait outside.”

For the next twenty minutes, I watch as women try to pick up Killian and Conor. I don’t know how, but they manage to sidestep the offers with ease while issuing the warnings. As for me, some listen while others roll their eyes and ignore me.

“Frustrated yet?” Conor asks as we get back into the car Killian and I came in.

“I don’t understand why they weren’t taking us seriously,” I say, shaking my head as we pull onto the road.

“You can lead a horse to water, but you can’t force it to drink,” Killian says as he looks down at his phone.

“I don’t know why I’m annoyed.” I sigh. “It happened when I was undercover too. It’s like they all think they’re invincible.”

“They have a degree of separation right now where most of them don’t know someone who’s gone missing.”

I frown. “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“Where are we meeting Rothestein?”

“The synagogue,” Conor tells him.

“Interesting place to have a meeting,” I mutter.

Killian laughs. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but places of worship are some of the best places to meet.”

Conor chuckles. “Or confessionals.”

I raise my brow and look at Killian.

He smirks with zero shame and shrugs. “Greer.”

“Ah…” I nod even though I don’t fully understand.

Did they used to meet up in confessionals before they became public, or is it some kind of kink they have, having sex in a church?

I don’t question it. I’d rather not know.

Before too long, Conor parks in front of the synagogue, and Killian slides out.

“I’ll be back,” he says before he shuts the door.

We watch him walk into the place of worship before Conor gets out of the car. I follow suit and shut the door. We both lean against the car, side by side, staring up at the building.

I watch as everyone walks by, looking at us like we’re out of place. “It’s like we stepped into a different world,” I murmur quietly.

“That’s because we did,” he says as he nods to a man. “They live a different kind of life than we do. Have beliefs that we don’t understand.”

“I can’t imagine.” I shake my head.

“My old neighbor was friends with a girl who was part of this community. She got married when she was sixteen to a much older man. When she would leave, my neighbor would break down, sobbing so loud I could hear her through the wall. I asked her about it one day, annoyed because she kept me up all night with her bawling. Needless to say, I felt like an ass afterward.”

“When I was with the PD, I remember a couple people looking into communities like this. Convinced that they were a religious cult, but they never found anything to stand on and the investigations died.”

“I’m not surprised.” He nods.

“It’s like with everything in life. Where there is good, there is bad that follows. You can’t condemn an entire religion just because you don’t understand it. And because you don’t understand doesn’t make it wrong.”

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