Feeding Ground

Searching for Answers

Dedicated to:  @LatishaJahoor  @fiarfn  @Ahyoka4bs

🔥🔥 Sexual Content 🔥 🔥

"I will talk to Mr. Hoskins again, and I want to interview the owners of Darby's; Maeve seemed to have information," Dan said, pulling out his typewriter. "I need to type up some questions."

"I'm going to get ready for bed," Molly said. "I'd like to go to mass in the morning, it's Sunday.

Sunday morning

St. Gregory's Catholic Church was a small, white clapboard church with a bell tower on the right side and a cross on top of the bell tower. It sat in a manicured neighborhood surrounded by well-maintained houses.

Molly strolled around the small plot of land that St. Gregory's sat on, and found a tiny prayer garden on the right side of the building, with stone benches and a statue of the Virgin Mary. Molly sat and prayed for a few minutes.

The church itself looked like a house that had been converted to a church, very different from the large Cathedral that Molly and her family attended in New York. They attended St. George Ukrainian church; it was on East 7th St, the same street Molly's family lived on, and it was not far from their home.

St George's Cathedral contained high flung ceilings and expensive tile flooring in a diamond pattern. Molly imagined this St Gregory's would be plain inside by comparison.

She walked through the doors, stopped at the fount, crossed herself with holy water, and then looked around the church. There were four short pews, a small platform, and no accouterments like St George's had. Still, Molly felt an air of serenity. She had never been in a small country church like this before; it was quaint.

Dan wasn't with her; he had wanted to sleep. Most of the seats in the church were full, but Molly spied an empty seat in the last pew. The curious gazes of the churchgoers followed her as she made her way there. Molly smiled and nodded politely, and most of the people smiled back. There were a few curmudgeons whose expression seemed to say that they thought their faces might crack if they laughed, but Molly was used to that; her home church had a few of them. The priest stepped up to the pulpit, and the mass began.

Molly hadn't been to church in a long time; it didn't move her the way it used to. She felt like something was missing, but she couldn't pinpoint what it was. She left the moment the mass ended and didn't make eye contact with anyone. She hadn't been to church since the miscarriage happened, and she felt like God was far from her, she did not feel the peace and happiness that she used to feel. Feeling cold, she drove Dan's mustang back to the trailer.

* * *

Monday morning

"I'm going to call Darby's, the waitress, Maeve, seemed to have information, I think it will be a good idea to interview her and her husband." Dan looked up the phone number in the book. "Hello?" a woman's voice answered, with an Irish brogue. "Darby's Celtic Pub, how may I help you?"

"Maeve! Glad it was you that answered, this is Dan Murphy, my wife and I were there a couple of nights ago."

"Oh yes, I remember! Did you find out any information for your story?!" Maeve asked, her loud voice high with excitement.

"That is why I'm calling, you seem to have some knowledge about the missing people, I'm calling to find out if we can schedule a good time to interview you and your husband."

"Well, sure. I will have to talk hubby into it though." Maeve laughed cheerfully.

"Great! What is his name?"