Dan felt the dampness soaking through the cuffs of his jeans. That, combined with the ever-refreshing clarity that came with distance from Brookline, made Dan pause. Would the church even be open at eight o’clock on a Thursday?But he felt like he had to try. He needed to know if he was crazy, possessed, or the victim of an elaborate framing job, and right now his only lead was his possible connection to Warden Crawford.Rounding a curve in the path, Dan was relieved to see there were lights on in the church. Off to the right was the dense tunnel of trees through which Dan’s cab had driven on that very first day.Dan broke into a jog as the drizzle became a steady rain. There was a tiny awning over the front doors of the church, and Dan huddled under it as best he could, first trying the door handles, and then, when they were locked, pounding loudly with his fists.“Coming! Coming!” came a faint voice.The doors swung inward to reveal a kindly-looking old man in a suit and tie. He came up to about Dan’s shoulders, and he smiled warmly even though Dan had clearly just interrupted him.“Well come in, come in, I can’t have you catching your death on the church doorstep.”Dan stepped into a small vestibule with just enough room for a few long tables.
