Home Sweet Murder

by Eliza Brookes

“She made regular contributions to the church?”

  “Yes, she was quite generous. I wanted to be around more, but she was adamant that she only wanted to see me once a week. She said I made her feel strong again,” the Pastor seemed to be quite pleased about this information.

  “She would have needed that, the poison would have made her very weak,” Allegra commented, watching the Pastor’s reaction carefully.

  “Yes, Xosyn Sirtunade has that effect,” Pastor Rob agreed, shaking his head forlornly.

  “I can’t believe anyone would want to poison her,” Allegra said sadly, allowing real emotion to creep into her voice. Grumpy Dot was loud, but she could not imagine anyone wanting to hurt her.

  “Neither can I,” the Pastor commented, “she was such a gentle soul. But don’t worry child, she had many visitors. She was not alone.”

  “Many visitors? Like who?” Allegra asked, subtlety flying out the window. The Pastor was behaving strangely, and this was her first opportunity to get some information from one of the townspeople. Her friends were helpful, but she had not had a chance to speak to anyone else yet.

  “Many people from the village came to see her,” the Pastor said vaguely, taking a step back. Greta gave her a strange look, which she ignored. “She had so much tea with people, it would be impossible to try and guess which of the guests did it.”

  Bud leaned back and regarded the Pastor carefully. Eric tugged on his pants, but his father just patted him absent-mindedly. Eric shrugged and gave up, so he turned to his mother and tugged at her pants. Greta bent down and listened as he whispered in her ear. She nodded, and the little boy ran to the break room.

  “Well, thank you for your visit, Pastor, you have given me a lot to think about.”

  Pastor Rob nodded kindly, then turned back to Bud to finish their conversation. Every now and then, Greta would interject with some of her own input, but Allegra remained quiet, her mind was racing as she tried to sort through the information the Pastor had given her.

  “He is so nice,” Greta commented once the Pastor left.

  “One of the nicest,” Bud agreed, returning to his writing with a sigh.

  “I never knew you wrote a novel,” Greta said suddenly, turning to Allegra. Allegra shrugged and began playing with her hair, trying not to think about the memories her first book brought back.

  “It was my first book,” Allegra said nonchalantly, “Grumpy Dot had it printed for me.”

  “You’re a writer?” Bud piped up from behind his desk.

  “Oh no, it’s just a hobby,” Allegra said hurriedly, “did anyone else find that odd?”

  “What?” Greta asked, looking confused at the sudden subject change.

  “All of that,” Allegra answered. “Dot was not mild, she was the loudest person any of us ever knew. She only ever went to church if they were selling something.”

  Bud and Greta looked at each other, communicating silently. Bud shrugged, and Greta turned to her friend with a concerned expression.

  “Honey, that was the Pastor, he probably said those things because he didn’t want to speak ill of the dead.”

  “Okay, but come on, Dot never gave money away. She held on to money more tightly than Ebenezer Scrooge.”

  “Maybe she really did change toward the end,” Greta suggested gently, looking worried for Allegra.

  “How would she know it was the end?” Allegra pointed out, “She was murdered.”

  “Maybe he was saying that to make you feel better,” Greta said slowly, but she did not seem convinced in her own theory. She looked at Bud to back her up, but Bud was staring thoughtfully into the distance. Greta scoffed and tossed one of Eric’s bread crusts at his head.

  “Wha—?” he jumped, startled.

  “Back me up here,” Greta insisted, “Pastor Rob was not being suspicious.”

  “He did look uncomfortable when you asked him about his visits.”

  “Anyone would look uncomfortable when they’re being interrogated!” Greta protested, looking at her husband like he betrayed her. Bud held up his hands in surrender and leaned back in his chair.

  “He mentioned the poison by name,” Bud pointed out. Greta turned on him and was about to say something, but she closed her mouth and frowned.

  “I’m sure that name is all over the town by now,” Allegra pointed out. Greta jumped up again, smiling broadly.

  “Yes, see, that’s it.”

  “But he mentioned that she drank a lot of tea,” Allegra mused. Greta sat back down again and frowned. She looked conflicted.

  “This is all circumstantial,” Greta grumbled.

  “I agree,” Allegra said soothingly, “but it is worth looking into.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “I don’t understand why we have to do this,” Greta grumbled. Allegra shushed her friend and continued creeping through the churchyard. The church was another old building that faced the town square. It was a lovely stone building that had ivy growing all over it. Tourists often stopped by to take pictures of the historic building, but they did not stay for much else.

  “You understand, you just don’t agree,” Allegra whispered as they crept through the rose bushes that lined the building. It had been decided that Eric should stay at home during this dangerous mission, since he was just a child and they had to draw the line somewhere. At least, that was what Bud insisted.

  “Look, Pastor Rob is just a nice man, he didn’t kill Grumpy Dot!” Greta repeated. She was convinced of the Pastor’s innocence. That, and being on the church grounds made her panicky for some reason.

  “Then there is no harm in us looking around,” Allegra hissed, motioning for Greta to speak more softly. They could feel the air swarm with bugs around them. Summer was ending, but the bugs had not gotten the memo yet. Since this was a covert mission, the pair had waited until it was dark to begin. Allegra was regretting her decision not to wear bug repellant, and Greta was wondering how she found herself in this position.

  “What if we get caught?” Greta hissed, slapping at her face. A mosquito buzzed away, causing Greta to scowl in its direction. Her curly red hair was escaping her beanie, and her dark eyes glittered nervously.

  “You said that Pastor Rob has a youth program on Friday nights,” Allegra pointed out. The sound of teenagers singing drifted through the walls and Allegra had to stop herself from wincing. The teenagers were loud, off-key and too unenthusiastic to lend anything to the mediocre guitar music.

  “What is the plan here?” a deep voice asked, causing Greta to jump up and hold her hands out in front of her in a defensive position.

  “We’re looking around to see if Pastor Rob has any Xosyn Sirtunade lying around,” Allegra answered Jason, peeking through the well-lit windows. Pastor Rob was in the middle of a circle of bored looking teens, singing his heart out. Allegra felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor man. At least he tried.

  “I bet he wouldn’t have left it in the rose bushes,” Jason quipped, looking amused. He was wearing a light pair of jeans and a blue T-shirt, a stark contrast to Greta and Allegra’s all-black attire.

  “What are you doing here?” Greta hissed, finally relaxing her defensive stance but still glaring at the intruder. Jason held his hands up in surrender, his mouth twisting into a bemused smirk. Greta continued glaring at him, burning holes through his head with her gaze.

  “I’m here to help,” Jason defended, still holding his hands up. The material of his t-shirt strained against his defined arm muscles, leaving one to wonder if he chose to wear the shirt for that reason.

  “How did you know where we were?” Greta hissed, sinking down to a squat. She pressed herself against the wall, away from the light emanating through the window when the sound of singing stopped.

  “Bud told me,” he answered casually. Greta drew in a sharp breath and Allegra shook her head. Bud was a smart man, but sometimes he did not think things through.

  “You know, if you want to catch up, you could just take me to dinner,�
� Allegra suggested, motioning for her two friends to follow her.

  “Yeah, but solving a murder is much more exciting than dinner at the diner,” Jason pointed out, whispering loudly. Greta smacked his arm and he put a finger in front of his lips. She rolled her eyes and smacked his arm again.

  “You know,” he said,” I just can’t win with you.”

  The trio made their way round the side of the building and paused suddenly. Allegra waited for a few seconds, and when the singing started again, they continued their journey. Behind the old church, there was a quaint little cottage lit up by a floodlight. It was a pretty little house that belonged to the church. The Pastor was allowed to live there as long as he fulfilled his duties. The last time Allegra had seen it, it was covered with rolls of toilet paper. After which she had been banned from Friday Night Youth Evenings.

  “This is our last chance to turn around,” Greta whisper yelled, refusing to leave the safety of the bushes.

  “Think about it, Greta,” Allegra said suddenly, “do you want to leave now and spend the rest of your life wondering if he did it?”

  “Yeah,” Jason interjected, “we could leave it. And then we would never know the truth.”

  “I already know the truth,” Greta protested, “he’s innocent!”

  “Then why are you here?” Allegra asked, starting to feel exasperated. Greta opened her mouth, but then closed it with a frown. She stood there for a few seconds, squirming under Allegra’s steady gaze.

  “Look,” Jason said, breaking the silence, “The Pastor can’t keep those teens entertained for much longer. I say, we get in there, look for the poison and get out. Then we will know for sure who is right about this.”

  Greta shook her head and looked at the building worriedly. She bit her lip and clung tightly to one of the branches in the bush she was hiding in.

  “I’m not going to force you,” Allegra promised, “you can come if you want to.” With that, she and Jason made their way up to the old house. They heard a strangled sound behind them before Greta’s footsteps rushed to catch up to them.

  “We are grown adults,” Greta grumbled behind them causing Jason to smile broadly.

  “Do you know how to pick a lock?” Jason asked when they finally made it to the front door. It was made of wood and partially concealed under a pretty little whitewashed arch. The arch was covered with delicate ivy, making its way to the roof. The door itself had stained glass panels decorating the top half. The entire scene belonged in a fairytale.

  “Yes,” Allegra answered, she took a step forward and the other two leaned in to see what she was doing. But instead of picking the lock, she turned the door knob and opened the door. “This is Llewes Cove,” she reminded them when they both gave her incredulous looks, “no one ever locks their doors.”

  The three cautiously stepped into the tiny little cottage. The light from the floodlight outside gave the front rooms an eerie glow. It smelled like ink and old books, and everything had a faded, look to it. The wooden floor creaked slightly as they stepped on it, and it felt like they were stepping into another world. The noise from the teenagers was muted, and the air felt warmer inside.

  “I forgot how beautiful it is in here,” Allegra said softly, her voice full of awe. It was the type of house that made you feel comfortable as soon as you walked in, and made you dream about winter nights in front of the cozy fireplace with a mug of cocoa in your hands.

  “I can’t see a thing,” Greta sniffed, switching on the lights.

  “No!” Jason said, rushing forward to switch them off again, “We’re on a covert mission, Greta! No lights,” he held his hands over the light switch to keep her from switching them on again.

  “Oops,” Greta apologized, covering her cheeks with her hands, “I’m not used to sneaking into the Pastor’s house on a Friday night!”

  “Guys!” Allegra snapped, looking through some of the documents on a cluttered desk, “can you please go check if he has the poison?”

  “Right,” Greta said, snapping her fingers, “if I were poison, where would I be?” she scurried off in the direction of the kitchen and Jason walked up to help Allegra.

  “What are you looking for?” Jason asked, taking a book from a nearby shelf.

  “Grumpy Dot’s will,” Allegra admitted, putting the papers back on the desk neatly.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, wincing sympathetically, “I heard about what happened.”

  “You and half the town,” Allegra shrugged it off. She was learning to get used to how news travelled in the town. If you didn’t want anyone to know your business, you had to have none. Even then, they might make up some business and assign it to you. She always suspected that there was a secret council who assigned gossip on a rotating schedule.

  “If you ask me, that was the first sign that something was wrong. She would never have left you nothing. Even if she was mad at you, she would have left you that old typewriter.”

  “You think?” Allegra asked hopefully, paging through a file that was on the desk.

  “Of course,” Jason stopped his search and turned to her, “she was always talking about how you were going to publish a book someday.”

  “She had such high hopes,” Allegra smiled fondly. It was nice to know that someone had faith in her future, even when she had given up on that dream.

  “Well, she had reason to be. You wrote an entire novel that first summer you were here.”

  “She only liked it because it was about her,” Allegra joked, squinting to read the writing on one of the documents. It looked like Pastor Rob kept a record of all the elderly people in the town.

  “It meant the world to her,” he told her, smiling fondly, “what did you call it again? Oh right, ‘The Mad Aunt’.”

  “She did like being called mad,” Allegra mused, frowning at the file. A loud clang from the kitchen pulled both their attention away from their tasks.

  “Sorry!” Greta yelled, her voice muffled.

  “I’m serious,” Jason said, taking a step toward Allegra, she looked up at him, her eyes wide, “she thought of you as a daughter.”

  Allegra shook her head at him, a frightened look on her face. She opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

  “Hey now,” he said gently, “it’s true.”

  “No,” Allegra whispered, “I think I found a clue.”

  “You what?” Greta asked shrilly, appearing from the darkness. Jason looked shocked and moved to her side to see what she was looking at in the file.

  “This is the police!” Crane’s voice sounded suddenly. It was amplified, he was probably using a megaphone or the church’s loudspeakers. “We have the house surrounded, come out with your hands in the air!”

  Greta let out a frightened squeak and looked at Allegra with big eyes. Jason and Allegra shared a startled look.

  “Come out, right now!” Crane said again, sounding more upbeat than they had ever heard him. This was probably the type of thing that he lived for.

  Allegra sighed, and put the file under her arm before squaring her shoulders and walking out into the light. Jason and Greta followed her reluctantly and were met by a group of curious teenagers, a frightened looking Pastor, an annoyed looking Matty and Crane holding a megaphone.

  ***

  “Do you know what retirement is?” The Chief demanded, sitting across from three sheepish adults.

  “Look, Chief,” Allegra began.

  “No,” he cut her off with his deep voice, “I asked you a question.” He glared at her sternly and she shrugged, sensing it was a rhetorical question. “It is a time in a man’s life when he is supposed to be spending his days playing golf. Or enjoying the company of his wife and grandchildren!”

  “But you’re not retired yet,” Jason pointed out.

  “No, but I am training my replacement. Which means I’m supposed to go home early and let him do his work. Not chastise three full grown adults!”

  “We were-” Greta started, but t
he Chief silenced her with a glare. Greta sat back and folded her arms over her chest, looking mutinous. Allegra looked around her and couldn’t help but feel a sense of Deja-vu wash over her. The three of them had been in this position a few times before.

  “What possessed you to break into our poor Pastor’s home?” he asked, looking at Allegra.

  “I thought he had something to do with Dot’s murder,” Allegra told him, repeating what she had told Crane and Matty from the back of the squad car.

  “You better change your answer, missy,” he warned, wagging his finger at her, “because that means Crane has to take over and he is itching for his first arrest.”

  “It’s the truth!” Allegra protested, “the Pastor said some strange things that got me thinking. I wanted to see if my hunch was correct.”

  “Your hunch was wrong,” the Chief told her, “because you are not a detective. Now, thank your lucky stars our Pastor isn’t pressing charges.”

  “My hunch was right,” Allegra protested, “I showed you what I found in the file.”

  “What you found was useful,” the Chief admitted, “but inadmissible in a court of law since you stole it from the man’s house.”

  “But now you can look into him!” Allegra cried, feeling frustrated.

  “No,” the Chief snapped, “not me. I am retiring. Crane is going to look at it. If you had stayed put, he would have found it eventually. Now, you lost a clue because you were sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

  “If I had left it, he would have burned it long before Crane did something useful!”

  “You are not qualified to do this,” the Chief cried in exasperation, removing his large hat to run his hands through his hair in frustration.

  “What choice do I have?” Allegra asked angrily, “look at who is leading the investigation. I got more done in one day than he got done in a week!”

  “Allegra,” the Chief sighed, “you found one clue. That doesn’t make you a detective. It makes you a trespasser. I know Dot meant a lot to you, but don’t you think it would be better if you just went home and let the professionals handle the case? We’ll call you as soon as Crane finds the murderer.”