Angel Fire - Lisa Unger [69]
“I wasn’t aware of anyone else being here today, except for Mrs. Mancher who walks here to pray nearly every day,” said Juno.
“Did you notice any other vehicles when we came in?” Jeffrey asked Lydia and Morrow.
“No, the lot was empty,” Lydia answered, and the chief nodded his agreement.
The priest returned with some xeroxed pages and handed them to Jeffrey.
“Thank you, Father. Lydia, is there anything else you need from Juno and Father Luis at this point?”
“Just one thing. Father, have you noticed that any of your parishioners, or any of your volunteers, drive a green minivan?”
He let out a small laugh. “Well, in fact, I drive a green Dodge Caravan.”
All three of them looked at him.
“But it’s been in the shop for the last week, and I’ve been using the church van for all my business. My minivan is an older model and the transmission is slipping,” he said; then added uncomfortably, “It’s a fairly common vehicle.”
“What service station is it at, Father?” Morrow asked. “No disrespect, of course, but we’ll need to take a look at it.”
“It’s at the Amoco station in town. I’ll call and let them know you’ll be dropping by.”
“Anyone else you can think of?” asked Morrow.
“No, but I’ll certainly keep my eyes open.”
The priest was kind and eager to help, but Lydia was sure he had something to hide. The fact that he owned a green minivan had thrown her a bit. She turned the possibilities around in her mind. Was he protecting someone? Was he involved in some way? She looked at him, his eyes filled with emotion and empathy, his large soft hands, the slight paunch of his belly. It didn’t seem likely.
“Father, have you noticed anyone strange lurking about the church? Someone who has recently started coming to mass but that you haven’t met before?” she asked. “Someone whose behavior has struck you as odd?”
Lydia saw something in the priest’s eye—a thought he considered voicing but dismissed.
“No, all my parishioners have been coming here for years, many of them as children themselves.”
“The man I saw today?” said Jeffrey. “He was large-framed, with sandy-blond hair. He wore beige coveralls. He appeared to be … you know, a bit on the slow side. Does this sound like anyone you know to be a volunteer here?”
“Well, there is Benny. He doesn’t go to the school I mentioned. But he is somewhat impaired. According to his mother, he has the intelligence of a twelve-year-old. He does come by occasionally and do some work for us. He loves to work in the garden. In fact, his name and number are on the list I gave you. Benjamin Savroy.”
“Thank you for your time, Father, Juno,” said Jeffrey, shaking each hand. “You can expect us to be stopping by again.”
Lydia said her good-byes as well. “Father, Juno, if you think of anything—no matter how small or insignificant it might seem to you, please call us.”
—
The three left and the church was quiet and peaceful again. The air still tingled with her essence, even as Juno listened to their cars pull away. Lydia’s scent still lingered, mingling with the odor of wood, candle wax, and incense.
Juno had remained silent throughout his uncle’s interview. He felt strongly that something horrible had befallen all the missing people. He had little doubt they had met with a fate similar to Maria’s. Juno was not an emotional person by nature and though he was deeply saddened by these events, they failed to move him to tears, as they did his uncle. Juno possessed an unflappable inner peace. Though he had great empathy, and a tremendous capacity to feel, the core of him, his faith in God, in the order of His universe, remained solid. No matter how horrible a tragedy occurred, no matter how people suffered, Juno knew in his heart that he and all people were part of a plan, God’s plan. After death, all suffering would fade from memory and the plan would be revealed. This is what his Bible and his heart told him.
And as he had listened to their conversation, something had begun to tickle at the edge of his consciousness. Like a whisper from a distant place, he caught the scent of lavender, of rose,