Chapter 4: The Sins of Havenwood

Chapter 4: The Sins of Havenwood

Havenwood Community Church looked like a postcard from a life Elias had lost just a few days ago. Manicured lawns, a pristine white steeple piercing a cloudless sky, and the gentle murmur of parishioners mingling after a Wednesday prayer luncheon. The wholesome facade was so perfect it made the acid churn in his stomach. It was a beautiful lie, and he was here to prove it.

“Okay, remember the plan,” Chloe said, adjusting the strap of her messenger bag. She had transformed into her role completely: the bright-eyed, ambitious journalism student. A notepad was already in her hand, her expression a perfect blend of professional curiosity and disarming friendliness. “I’m doing a piece on dynamic ministers who’ve successfully revitalized modern youth programs. David Cain is my star case study. You’re my quiet, note-taking photographer. Try not to look like you’re plotting a seven-act revenge tragedy.”

“I’ll do my best,” Elias said, his voice flat. He kept his camera, a prop Chloe insisted on, hanging around his neck, a physical shield to hide behind.

Their initial foray was a textbook exercise in futility. The church secretary, a sweet-faced woman named Doris, gushed about “Brother David.” She spoke in practiced platitudes, praising his energy, his fundraising prowess, and the way he’d “really energized the congregation.” Every question Chloe asked was met with a perfectly polished, uninformative answer. It was a wall of pleasantries, as impenetrable as granite.

As they sat in the back of the fellowship hall, sipping lukewarm coffee, frustration began to creep in. Elias watched Chloe work her magic on a few other members, but the result was the same. The official story was that David Cain was a saint who had moved on to a bigger, better calling. Any whispers to the contrary were buried deep.

“This isn’t working,” he murmured to Chloe as she returned to their table, a tight smile plastered on her face. “They’re stonewalling you.”

“I know,” she hissed back, her cheerful facade dropping the moment she sat down. “It’s too perfect. People don’t talk about a former minister like he was a visiting celebrity. There should be some lingering affection, some sadness. This feels… rehearsed.”

As Elias scanned the room, watching the polite smiles and forced laughter, the frustration inside him coalesced into a sharp, focused point. He knew there was something wrong here. He could feel it in the air, a tension just beneath the surface. He needed to see more, to see what they were hiding behind their eyes. The desire was so intense that the System responded.

[Condition Met: Investigative Deadlock. New Skill Unlocked: Eagle Eye Observation.]

[Eagle Eye Observation (Lv. 1): Enhances host’s observational abilities, allowing for the detection of micro-expressions, physiological stress indicators (elevated pulse, perspiration), and subtle inconsistencies between body language and speech. Passive ability.]

Suddenly, the world snapped into a new level of focus. It wasn’t a glowing wireframe like [Social Analysis]; it was far more subtle. As he looked at Doris, the secretary, laughing with the pastor, a faint shimmer highlighted the frantic tapping of her foot beneath the table. He saw the tiny beads of sweat on the pastor’s upper lip, despite the cool air-conditioning. He saw how people’s shoulders tightened ever so slightly whenever Cain’s name was mentioned.

The idyllic scene fractured into a thousand tiny tells of fear and anxiety. They weren’t praising Cain; they were placating his ghost.

His gaze swept the room, cataloging the subtle signs of distress, until it landed on a group of three women in their late fifties, huddled around a small table in the corner. While the rest of the room was filled with performative cheer, their conversation was low and tense. One of them, a woman with a severe haircut and a pinched face, clutched her teacup so tightly her knuckles were white.

Elias subtly nudged Chloe with his foot and angled his head towards the table. “Try them,” he whispered. “The one in the middle. Ask her specifically about the church budget under Cain.”

Chloe’s eyes flickered with trust and she gave a near-imperceptible nod. She stood up, her student persona back in place, and approached the table.

“Excuse me,” she said with a warm smile. “I’m so sorry to interrupt. My name is Chloe Reed. I was just speaking to Doris about the wonderful work Reverend Cain did here, and she mentioned he had a real gift for financial stewardship. I was hoping you might be able to share some insights for my article?”

The atmosphere at the table instantly dropped ten degrees. The woman with the teacup, whose name they learned was Eleanor, looked up at Chloe, her eyes cold. “A gift? Is that what she’s calling it now?” The words were laced with a bitterness so potent it was startling.

Another woman immediately tried to smooth it over. “Eleanor, please. The young lady is just doing her research.”

“David Cain had a gift for spending money, not managing it,” Eleanor snapped, ignoring her friend. “He had a gift for convincing people to open their wallets for his… projects.” The way she said the word ‘projects’ made it sound unspeakably dirty.

Chloe seized the opening. “Oh? So his methods were a bit… unconventional?” she probed gently.

“His methods were whatever served David Cain best,” Eleanor said, placing her cup down with a sharp clink. The dam of rehearsed pleasantries had cracked. “He was a wolf, and he convinced this entire flock they needed him to protect them.”

A horrified silence fell over the small table. The third woman, who had remained quiet until now, looked around nervously, her eyes wide with fear. She leaned forward, her voice a frantic whisper that only Chloe and Elias, who had subtly moved closer, could hear.

“You should go,” she urged. “You shouldn’t be digging into this. It was all handled. It’s over.”

“What was handled?” Chloe pressed, her voice soft but insistent.

The woman’s fear was palpable. She looked from Eleanor’s defiant face to her other friend’s panicked expression. She took a deep breath, a decision made in a split second.

“If you really want to know about the sins of David Cain in this town,” she whispered, her voice trembling, “you don’t talk to us. You find Marcus Thorne. But for God’s sake, be careful. And you did not hear his name from me.”

The name landed in the space between them with the force of a physical blow. Marcus Thorne. It wasn’t a casual suggestion; it was a warning. The woman stood up abruptly, pulling her friends with her. “We have to be going. It was a pleasure to meet you.” They practically fled the fellowship hall, leaving Chloe and Elias standing in the sudden, deafening silence.

They walked out of the church and got into their car, the weight of that name settling over them. The beautiful facade of Havenwood Community Church was gone, replaced by the image of a rot so deep it had terrified its members into a code of silence.

“Marcus Thorne,” Chloe said, typing the name into her phone’s search bar. “She sounded terrified, Eli. This is bigger than stolen donation money.”

As she began to scroll through the search results, the familiar blue screen flickered to life in front of Elias.

[Objective Update: Uncovered pattern of financial exploitation and psychological manipulation.] [Key Witness Identified: Marcus Thorne.] [Mission: The Serpent’s Trail – 80% Complete] [Warning: The trail of a serpent often leads to the lair of a dragon. Proceed with caution.]

Elias looked at Chloe, whose eyes had just gone wide as she stared at her phone screen. “Eli,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “You’re not going to believe who this guy is.”