The Cinderella Murder

18

Steve Roman knew that Martin preferred to receive any bad news quickly, the proverbial bandage being pulled from the wound. After parking his pickup truck at the discount monthly parking space he paid for south of Market, he pulled up AG’s number.

“Yes?” That high-pitched yet assertive voice.

“Nothing essential to report,” Steve began. Yesterday’s check-in had been easy: the target had left the house only for trips to Costco, a fish market, and a strip mall for something called Pilates. Now he had to keep Martin calm. “But she did hit the road, a straight shot from her home to a company in Palo Alto. Something called REACH. It looks… I don’t know, modern.”

“It’s a computer company,” Martin said. “Good to know. Keep watching her.”

Steve felt a churning heat working its way up from his stomach. “Before, when you called me, you said something about sending a message? When the time was right. Is that something I should be doing now?” No, Steve thought to himself, please don’t make me hurt anyone. I might not be able to stop.

“Nothing yet. Just watch her. And, as you did today, tell me where she goes. And, this is important-find out to whom she speaks.”

Steve was always impressed by Martin’s proper grammar. He swallowed, knowing how much Martin despised being questioned. For every loyal follower, the church seemed to have ten critics doubting AG’s mission of advocating for God’s goodness through service to the poor. While Steve had been so inspired by AG, cynics assumed the worst about the church’s fund-raising efforts. As a result of all the scrutiny, Martin could be secretive. And just as he had fully devoted himself to the word of God, Martin expected his followers to devote themselves to him.

“Is she someone I should be worried about?” Steve finally asked. He had practiced the wording of his query.

“No,” Martin said definitively. “She was-in the past. Just between me and you…”

Steve now felt a different kind of warmth encompassing him. Martin was letting him further into the AG circle.

“Between me and you,” Martin continued, “I was younger then. I trusted Nicole too quickly, before I should have. But now she’s an impediment to our advocacy of God’s goodness, to say the least.”

“Got it,” Steve said.

It wasn’t a complete explanation for why he was driving all over the Bay Area, but it was more knowledge than he had before. Steve merged onto I-280, reinvigorated.