The Greatest Gift Read Online Free PDF Page B

highlighting our supposed incompetence. They’re laughing at us. Have you seen what they’re saying on TV and the Internet about the FBI? This makes me angrier.”
    He frowned. “Pastor, I will tear this place apart, brick by brick, pew by pew, curtain by curtain. No one disappears in front of me. We had this entire church surrounded. The only way he could have escaped is through a passageway we haven’t found yet. You know this church better than anybody. I believe you helped him escape.”
    Dennis pushed the black book across the desk. “Read it. I didn’t believe it at first until I heard another member of our church tell me about his experience.”
    “Who is this person?”
    “George Farmer.”
    Hewitt opened the book and read the first page. “How do I get in contact with Mr. Farmer?”
    Dennis sighed and rubbed his chin. “You can’t.”
    Hewitt frowned. “Why?”
    “He passed away recently.”
    “Does he have any living relatives?”
    “Yes. His wife.”
    “Terrific. I’ll get his address and number through my office.”
    “Please leave his widow alone. She’s been through so much. She’s old and frail.”
    “I’m here to solve this case. If she can somehow help me find that poor girl, I’m going to sure as hell knock on her door and get some answers.”
    Dennis stood, placing his foot in the small garbage can. He pressed down on a newspaper article, mashing it into little pieces. He grabbed an empty Styrofoam cup, dropped it onto the crushed article and wiped his face with a tissue. He tossed it in and turned around.
    “I have to bring a special unit in here to lift fingerprints and gather more evidence,” Hewitt said.
    Dennis glanced past Hewitt. When he didn’t respond, Hewitt reached over the desk and grabbed his arm. “Did you hear me?”
    “I heard you.”
    Hewitt’s phone rang, and he answered it. “Hello. Yes.” He turned his back on him. Dennis leaned back and grabbed the garbage can. “I need to take this out before the men come for the pickup.”
    The special agent grabbed the black book and put it in his pocket.
    Dennis looked back and saw Hewitt was following him out of the church. He stared at him as he placed the garbage into the big, green metal bin at the rear of the parking lot.
    “You do everything around here, don’t you?” Hewitt asked.
    Dennis shot him a nervous grin. “We’re not exactly a profitable church, Mr. Paul.”
    “You can call me, Hewitt,” he said again.
    “I don’t feel comfortable doing that.”
    “Why is that?”
    “I’d rather keep my distance from you. Number one, you don’t trust me. Number two, you don’t believe me. Number three, you don’t have much faith.”
    Hewitt shrugged and grabbed his arm. “I don’t care about faith. I deal in reality. I have a job to do. And I’m going to do it until I find Mr. Stewart and his daughter. I’m going to feel like a mosquito on the back of your neck during a hot August night, buzzing around your head even when you’re sleeping. I’m going to find that girl, dead or alive, if it kills me. No one is above the law. Not even you. A collar doesn’t give you immunity.”
    “I want to find them, too,” said Dennis, shaking his arm loose. “But you won’t find them pushing those around who can help you.”
    “Prove to me you can help,” Hewitt shouted, kicking at the bin. “Show me that you are willing to help me, or I will make your life miserable here.”
    Dennis smiled like he had done so often when consoling angry churchgoers. “And what good would that do, Hewitt?”
    Hewitt took a few steps away. “I won’t sleep until I find Elizabeth Stewart. I don’t care about the religious babble you spout with your microphone every Sunday. You’re just like any Joe out there. With or without you, I will solve this case.”
    Dennis sighed. “I know, but you’re going about it the wrong way. Do you realize where Michael has gone is someplace many have read about in history books but can