"So how do you feel?" Maggie asked.
Stride clenched the wheel a little tighter and fluttered the brake as he edged up to a stop sign. "Guilty as hell, if you must know."
"Look, you're not cheating on Cindy," Maggie said. "She'd have been pissed off that you waited this long."
"I know," Stride acknowledged. "That's what I've been telling myself. But my heart doesn't really believe it."
In fact, he had dreamed of Cindy, and then, when he had awakened and felt a warm presence next to him for the first time in a year, he had enjoyed a brief moment when he thought it really was Cindy beside him. In his drowsy state, he believed that the tragedy of the past year had been the real dream and that life was still sweet and normal. Then he saw Andrea, and he felt a twinge of sorrow. It wasn't fair. Andrea was pretty and sweet. Her naked body, half exposed above the blanket, was arousing to him. But he had to blink back tears.
"It was your first time," Maggie said. "You're back on the playing field. The more you date, the more comfortable you'll get."
"Maybe. Andrea and I are getting together again tomorrow night."
Maggie smiled slyly. "Oh, yes? I get it. Once you take the gun out of the holster, you can't stop firing, huh?"
Stride shot her a sideways glance. "You're crude, Mags. Who taught you to be so crude?"
"You did."
"Yeah, yeah," Stride said, chuckling.
"Just don't get carried away, okay?" Maggie said. "You're getting over Cindy's death, and she's getting over a divorce. You're both on the rebound."
"When did you become the expert on relationships?" Stride asked sourly, regretting the edge in his voice.
"Let's just say I know a little about taking a fall, all right?"
Stride said nothing. They drove on silently.
Their destination was on the south end of the city. They passed close to the harbor on their left and crossed a web of railroad tracks that led in and out of the docks. There was little development down here, other than a few windowless saloons, off-sale liquor stores, and gas stations. Another mile took them to the outer edge of town, where a large cluster of older houses clung to the land near the interstate. Most of the houses dated back before the 1940s, when they were modest but comfortable units serving ship workers. The houses were mostly ramshackle now, and the neighborhood was a magnet for the handful of drug dealers who called Duluth home.
"Marrying Graeme was quite a step up the social ladder for Emily," Maggie said. "You have to give her credit for landing him. I wonder how she did it."
"Well, the good reverend says she was quite a dish just a few years ago."
"He said that?"
"I'm paraphrasing. But Emily is obviously still close to Dayton, and it looks like he knows more about her and Rachel than just about anyone."
"But will he tell us anything?" Maggie asked.
"He agreed to see us. That's a start."
Stride navigated a series of snow-covered streets through the quiet neighborhood. The parked cars were lumps of little white hills to steer around on the narrow streets.
The church in which Dayton Tenby served as pastor was a beachhead from which the neighbors were battling back crime and vandalism. The churchyard was meticulously clean and landscaped with neatly trimmed bushes, sporting white snowcaps, carefully planted across the wide lawn. There was a large swing set and a cedar jungle gym for children. The church itself boasted a fresh coat of paint and bright red trim around the tall narrow windows.
They made the first set of tire tracks in the lot as they pulled in and parked. When they got out of the car, the air was crisp and cold. They kicked through the snow to the main door of the church. The wide lobby inside was chilly, with the heat vanishing into the high ceiling. They hugged themselves and looked around. Stride noticed a bulletin board crowded with notices about drug rehabilitation, abuse prevention, and counseling for divorce. In the middle of the board was a missing-person notice, with Rachel's photo prominently displayed.
"Hello?" Stride called.
He heard movement somewhere in the church, then a muffled voice. A few seconds later, appearing out of the shadows of a long hallway, Dayton Tenby joined them in the lobby.
Tenby wore a pair of dark dress slacks and a gray wool sweater with leather patches on the elbows. He greeted them with a nervous smile, and his handshake, as it had been when Stride first met him, was damp with sweat. His forehead, too, was lined with moisture. He had a yellow pad, crammed with spidery writing, under his arm and a pen wedged behind one ear.
"I'm sorry I wasn't here to greet you," Tenby said. "I was in the midst of writing tomorrow's sermon, so I'm a little distracted. Let's go in the back where it's warmer."
He guided them down the hall. Tenby's church apartment was boxy and small, furnished in dark wood, with a large oil painting of Christ hung above the mantel of a modest fireplace. A fire burned there, making the room pleasantly warm. Dayton seated himself in a green upholstered chair by the fire and laid his yellow pad on the ornate end table beside it. He gestured at an antique, uncomfortable-looking sofa. Stride and Maggie sat down. Maggie fit perfectly, but Stride wriggled to find a position that suited his tall frame.
"When we first met, you told me you thought Rachel had run away," Stride said. "Do you still feel that way?"
Tenby pursed his lips. "This is a long time to carry a joke, even for Rachel. I would never say so to the Stoners, but I'm beginning to fear this may be more than a childish game."
"But you have no idea what else it could be?" Maggie asked him.
"No, I don't. Do you feel she was abducted?"
"We're not ruling anything out," Stride said. "Right now, we're trying to find out more about Rachel's relationships and her past. We're trying to construct a picture of her. Since you've known her and her family for a long time, we thought you could help."
Tenby nodded. "I see."
"You sound reluctant," Maggie said.
He folded his hands in his lap. "It's not reluctance, Detective. I'm trying to decide what I can say and what I can't. There are things I've learned in my role as a religious advisor that naturally must remain confidential. I'm sure you can understand."
"You mean you counseled Rachel?" Stride asked.
"Briefly. A long time ago. I've worked with Emily much more. She and I have tried to work through the problems with Rachel for many years. Without a great deal of success, I'm afraid."
"Anything you can tell us would help," Maggie assured him.
"In fact, I did talk about your visit with Emily," Tenby said. "I had a suspicion this kind of topic might come up, you see. Emily was gracious and gave her permission for me to talk about our conversations freely. Naturally, I don't have Rachel's permission, but perhaps, under the circumstances, I would be doing a disservice to keep things hidden. Of course, I have to say that Rachel told me very little that shed much light on her soul."
"Maybe if you started at the beginning," Stride suggested.
"Yes, indeed. Well, you know that many of the problems between Emily and Rachel date back to her first marriage to Tommy Deese. He drove a wedge between Rachel and Emily, and the gap only widened after Tommy's death. Of course, I only learned about most of this in retrospect. I knew both of them from church, but neither one made an effort to confide in me."
"They lived near here?" Maggie asked.
"Oh, yes. Right down the street, in fact."
"Did Rachel have many friends?" Stride asked.
Tenby drummed his fingers on the end table. "She was never really close to anyone. Except, perhaps, for Kevin. He always had quite the crush on her, but it was a one-way thing."
"This is the same Kevin who was with her in Canal Park on that last night? Kevin Lowry?" Maggie asked.
"Oh, yes. Kevin and his family still live here. I expect he'll be a lawyer or vice president someday, a real success story. I'm afraid his one weakness is Rachel. He always seemed to want to save her, but Rachel didn't have much interest in being saved. Well, that's all right, he's better off with that girl Sally he's dating now. I'm sorry, that sounds rather cold, doesn't it? It's not that I have any ill feelings toward Rachel, but she would never have been right for Kevin."