Behind Closed Doors

Chapter 47

Dr. Garcia stared at the table, lost in thought after hearing the news about Emily. Donna stood beside her, hands folded. Her eyes were heavy, as if she'd been crying for days, but now, she stood emotionless.

"She... wanted you to have this," Donna said, pulling out a recorder and placing it on the table beside Dr. Garcia. "I think you gave it to her... I don't know the full story. I just..." She paused, swallowing hard as if holding back emotions.

Dr. Garcia sat up and picked up the recorder. "Oh my God," she murmured in surprise. "She actually kept it."

Donna stared at her, still expressionless.

"What's it for?" she asked.

"It's a recorder," Dr. Garcia explained, clicking a button to play it. "She recorded their conversation."

Donna snapped out of her daze and leaned toward the table. "What do you mean she recorded?"

"The conversation she had with her husband before this tragic incident—it's all on here," Dr. Garcia said, her voice steady as the recording began to play softly in the background.

Donna pulled a chair closer and sat down.

"We gave her this recorder in case he tried something," Dr. Garcia continued. "She was terrified he'd catch her with it and do something worse. It took a lot of encouragement to convince her to wear it."

Static crackled through the recording.

"How could a man say something like this to someone he claims to love?" Dr. Garcia muttered in disbelief, pausing the recording and looking at Donna.

Donna sat silently for a moment before speaking. "I've heard enough," she said, standing abruptly and adjusting her coat. "I'll be going now. Take care, Dr. Garcia, and please... make sure she gets the justice she deserves. I don't know if she's going to make it, but..."

"I want to see her," Dr. Garcia interjected.

"The sight is horrible, I wish I could get it out of my head," Donna said flatly. "But here's the address." She grabbed a pen, scribbled it on a notepad, and walked out without another word.

****
"There are two possible places he could be—at home or in the church. Hopefully, his schedule is clear today," She muttered to herself as she entered the church building. "The service starts in a few minutes. If he isn't here, I'll go to his house."

Her eyes scanned the hallway. "His name should be on one of these doors. I've been here once... My brain has to remember. Think. Think. Think." She stared at the nameplates on the office doors. "Pastor Adams... Evangelist James... Senior Pastor Mark Smith. Good." Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the doorknob.

As she opened the door, Donna immediately pointed her gun at the first person she saw. She wasn't taking chances. But as the door swung open fully, she regretted not going to his house instead. Here, Mark wasn't alone—several men were seated, listening as he gave a lecture.

The room erupted into chaos.

"She's got a gun! Who is this woman?!"

Donna turned her glare to Mark, her face burning with rage. She wanted to pull the trigger so badly. He, however, remained seated, his expression calm, almost as if he had been expecting her.

"Donna," he said finally, breaking into a warm smile, "I didn't expect you here today. Take a seat."

"You son of a bitch..." Donna hissed through clenched teeth. Before she could act, a guard grabbed her from behind, knocking the gun out of her hand.