Hello, campers, grab your marshmallows and gather around the true crime campfire.

We're your camp counselors.

I'm Katie.

And I'm Whitney.

And we're here to tell you a true story that is way stranger than fiction.

We're roasting murderers and marshmallows around the true crime campfire.

For people of faith, a minister is supposed to be a figure of trust, a rock to support you in times of trouble.

Not everyone who holds that position meets those ideals, though.

This week's story is about a man whose minister's robes and carefully practiced smiles

hit a heart burning with violence and dark

desires, someone who would betray every trust given to him and leave pain, not salvation,

in his wake. This is our latest sinister minister. Tell death do us part the crimes of A.B.

Shermer.

So, campers, for this one, were in the tiny community of Reader's Pennsylvania, up in the wooded hills of the Poconos. October 29, 2008. Secretaries arriving early at

the United Methodist Church were alarmed to see the door to the church office standing open,

the window in it broken. They cautiously looked inside and discovered an awful scene.

50-year-old Joe Musante, a builder and carpenter and longtime congregant of the church,

sat on the chair behind the pastor's ornate desk, a desk Joe himself had built.

Joe Mousante was dead.

He had shot himself in the head with a handgun, and as his body slumped in the chair,

blood had run down his left arm

to pool on the floor. Joe had been a well-liked member of the church, always ready to help anybody

...