Anna watched bemusedly as Dexter laughed at the others, Xandus looked confused and Charles looked close to rage. St michaels was their best bet, but somehow they'd gotten sidetracked with talk of Australia. As much as she liked Austrailia, or at least she'd liked it in the fifties, England was top of her list of places to go.
"Xandus, that church there," she motioned to the painting, "is in England, and considering that we've been called to this church here, I'm willing to bet a fair fortune our next clue is going to be there, in St Michaels."
She walked away from the painting and leant against a pew. "I hope the others come back soon." she said lightly. "For the record, I had my throat cut, but my personal favourite streak was being burnt at the stake as a witch for a whole week. That was an interesting time for me." Running a hand through her hair, she huffed. "The sooner I get out of New Orleans, the better. I always hated the French."