Dead by Midnight - Beverly Barton [109]
“The Midnight Killer didn’t murder her,” Shelley said. “She died over a year ago from a drug overdose. She was working as a prostitute and had pretty much fallen off the radar. She wasn’t using her real name, wasn’t staying in contact with anyone she had known, not family or friends.”
“I didn’t know her all that well. She was an odd sort of girl and even back when we made Midnight Masquerade, she was into the drug scene big-time.”
“With Charlene Strickland already dead, that leaves only four actors from the movie left alive,” Shelley said. “Jean Misner, Sonny Deguzman, Terri Owens, and—”
“And me,” Lorie said. “The only thing we don’t know is if he plans for me to be the May, June, July, or August victim of the month.”
During the past six years, Reverend Grant Leroy, with the assistance of his wife and son, had built up a rather impressive congregation in Louisville, Kentucky. His followers had donated generously, allowing the reverend to build a huge church that seated a thousand people and a six-thousand-square-foot parsonage where he and his family lived. When Powell’s had contacted the man who had directed numerous porno films in the past three decades, including Midnight Masquerade, his wife hadn’t hesitated, even for a second, to set up an appointment.
“We have no secrets from our congregation,” she’d told them. “They know all about Grant’s past. They understand how the devil can tempt all of us to do evil things.”
Renee Leroy had gone on to suggest the time and place for the meeting. “Grant teaches a young people’s group on Tuesday evening. Have your agents come by the church office around eight o’clock and he’ll meet with them then.”
So, here they were at the Redeemer Church.
Maleah hadn’t attended a church service in years. Her stepfather had insisted on the family attending services every time the church doors opened and had said a prayer of thanks before every meal. To outside observers, Nolan Reaves had appeared to be a good Christian. In truth, the man had been a sadistic monster who had made life a living hell for her mother, her brother, and her. Since leaving home for college at eighteen, Maleah hadn’t been inside a church except for weddings, christenings, and funerals.
“Quite a place,” Derek said. “An auditorium that seats a thousand. Can you imagine the cash they rake in from their parishioners?”
“Enough to allow Grant Leroy and his family to live the good life.”
They entered through one set of five double front doors that led to the expansive vestibule. Dozens of young people, who appeared to range in age from thirteen to twenty, exited the sanctuary, many staying and milling around, everyone smiling and laughing. A tall, slender blonde wearing a fuchsia silk pantsuit and a string of black pearls approached Maleah and Derek.
“You must be the private detectives from the Powell Agency,” she said as she held out her hand. “I’m Renee Leroy.”
“Maleah Perdue.”
She shook Maleah’s hand first and offered her a warm, nice-to-meet-you smile; then she turned to Derek and her friendly smile suddenly came alive with feminine interest.
“I’m Derek Lawrence.”
When he took the lady’s hand, their gazes locked, and Maleah wanted to kick Derek and remind him that Renee Leroy, although at least twenty years her husband’s junior, was most definitely a married woman. He should save all his charm for single women. Surely there were enough of those around to feed his monumental ego with their blubbering adoration.
“Come with me, please.” Renee slipped her arm through Derek’s. “Grant will meet us in the office.”
When Renee led them down a long corridor, Maleah kept in step and gave Derek a scowling glance. He shrugged as if to ask, “Can I help it if women find me irresistible?”
Maleah hardened her frown. Derek smiled and winked at her.
Renee released Derek and punched the Up button on the elevator. When the doors opened instantly, Maleah and Derek entered the elevator behind her, and on the quick ride to the second floor, they didn’t have time for conversation.
“This way,” Renee said