Chapter 8
It was Sunday again, after a late night at yet another promotional venture, and Mark was inclined to stay in bed until noon. But old habits die hard so, as usual, he was up and dressed at eight. Checking to be certain he had everything, he headed out to make the walk to the cathedral for the nine o’clock service.
The morning was wintery and very cold, his breath coming out in clouds in the frigid air as he pulled his coat tighter around him. When he neared the cathedral he saw other members of the congregation dressed as warmly as he was as they hurried inside. Then one man veered off toward the building housing the diocese offices.
Now why would he be going there? Mark wondered, recognizing Nate Phillips. And at this hour on a Sunday morning?
It was the second time he’d seen
