Free Deadliest of Sins by Sallie Bissell Page B

get any of the root, so no DNA there.”
    Mary asked, “You think he drove to the truck stop for a brief encounter and got more than he bargained for?”
    â€œThat’s a possibility,” admitted Galloway. “Except he never showed up on any of the lot security cams. Didn’t buy gas or go in the store, or go to the men’s room.”
    â€œSo maybe he just got lucky in the parking lot. You know, in the back of a semi.”
    â€œThat was my first thought, except for this.” Galloway pulled another picture from the file—this one of Bryan with his arm around another young man. “This is Leo Maiello, Bryan’s husband. They got married in New York six months ago. Bryan was a newlywed and, according to his parents, very happy.”
    â€œToo happy to go prowling around truck stops?”
    â€œHe texted Leo at nine thirty-four that night, saying he was on his way home. Can’t wait to see you was his last message.”
    â€œAnd Leo was in New York, equally thrilled that Bryan was coming home?”
    Galloway nodded. “Leo checks out. He’s the stage manager at some Broadway theater. He was at work that night. No less than Bernadette Peters backed up his story.”
    â€œYou really talked to Bernadette Peters?” Mary was impressed—on her last trip to New York she’d seen the red-headed actress bring down the house in a Stephen Sondheim play.
    â€œI did,” said Galloway. “She was really nice. Sympathetic, you know?”
    Mary flipped through the file, looking at the crime scene photos, notes of the interviews with Taylor’s parents and friends. She stopped at a group photo of the ball team, grinning at the camera. “All of his teammates check out?”
    â€œThey do. The rest of them stayed at the bar until the Yankees game ended, then they went home. A typical night in church league ball.”
    Mary frowned at the picture. “Who was St. Alban’s playing that night?”
    â€œThis is where it gets interesting.” Galloway grinned. “Reverend Trull’s One Way Saints team. I happen to be their newest left fielder.”
    Suddenly, she remembered where she’d seen him. At church last night, sitting toward the front, along with some other broad-shouldered young men. “You were there last night, at the church service, weren’t you?”
    His brows lifted. “How do you know?”
    â€œI was there, too. The governor called me yesterday and I booked it down here in time for the Wednesday night prayer meeting.”
    â€œCan I ask why the governor is so interested in this one particular crime? Is she a friend of Taylor’s family?”
    Mary wondered what she should tell him—she wasn’t sure how much of her agenda Ann Chandler wanted known. “The governor’s concerned about the number of crimes against gay people in this state. Since that Trull video went viral, businesses are starting to look elsewhere to expand, simply because they fear their gay employees won’t be safe.”
    â€œThey sure as hell wouldn’t be safe around here,” said Galloway.
    â€œDo you think Reverend Trull has anything to do with that?”
    â€œI think Reverend Trull has a lot to do with that, Ms. Crow. I grew up Catholic, thought I’d heard every weird interpretation of Christianity on the planet. But this guy spins it in ways that would make Jesus blush.”
    â€œWhat’s this Warriors for Christ group?” asked Mary. “They mentioned it last night at church.”
    â€œFrom what I can gather, they’re God’s own shock troops of mercy. Anything bad happens—a flood or a tornado or a blizzard—they load up this van and take food and medical supplies. You’re supposed to be able to drop everything and leave at a moment’s notice.”
    â€œWhat about people who have jobs?”
    â€œThey need to have jobs they can leave,” said