Resolved, I made a list of people to talk with. First was Barbara Ziebold. Maybe she’d be able to give me some information on what was happening. Second was Father Tom. It would be good to find out what he had told the detective. And third—deep sigh—was Rob Jenson. He certainly had been trying to get information from me. Turnabout is only fair play. The clock chimed. Barbara’s kids should be in school by now.
Barbara lived only a few blocks away, and she had a famous sweet tooth. Deciding to take a quick detour to the Morning Pastry, I examined the shelves to see what looked appetizing. Suzie Krump, the owner, was behind the counter. “Hi, Suzie, how’s the morning been?”
She smiled. “Busy—just the way I like it. What can I interest you in?”
“I was thinking about a coffee cake. What kind do you have?”
“I just pulled an apple-and-cinnamon swirl out of the oven. It’s got a drizzle of vanilla icing on it and some toasted almond slivers.”
My mouth watering, I nodded. “That will work.”
After paying, I strolled the two blocks to Barbara’s house. As I stood admiring the fall wreath on her door, I rang the doorbell.
Barbara opened it. “Merry, what a pleasant surprise. Come in.”
I held the box in front of me. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Mmm. I smell cinnamon.”
“It’s a coffee cake from the Morning Pastry.”
“That will hit the spot! I just made some coffee. Let’s go in the kitchen.”
Sitting at her counter, we savored our first bites of the coffee cake. Barbara’s eyes closed, and she had a slight smile on her face. “Not that I’m complaining, but what brings you by today?”
“Ben Ford’s murder. I spoke with Patty Twilliger last night, and she said they’ve been questioning her daughter, Cindy.”
She shifted in her seat, and her face became flushed. “You should leave this in my husband’s capable hands.”
“I know that, but there is no way Cindy was involved in this.”
“All I can say is I’ve known Cindy all of her life, and it would be difficult for me to believe as well. However, Jay has to go where the evidence leads him, and right now there’s not a lot, and what there is raises questions. I shouldn’t say, but after everyone left the rectory the other night, he confiscated the paper towels from the trash. The techs were able to match the blood on the towels to some of the blood on the knife. That means Cindy was in contact with the knife.”
“Her hand must have hit the knife when she fell over him. That must be how she cut her hand.”
“That’s not all. Jay searched Ben’s house the other day. He mentioned that Ben seemed to be making large, regular deposits to his money market account.”
“Why would that be suspicious? He was getting paid for his work as a postman, right?”
“Of course, but his paycheck was direct deposit. This was a set amount of $15,000 per month in cash. Jane Wilcox at the bank said he came in like clockwork on the third of the month for the past few months. They don’t get many nonbusiness people with large cash deposits anymore.” She took another bite of the coffee cake and stood. “I’m sure Jay will work it out. I hate to cut this short, but I have about fifteen loads of laundry to get to. I love all my boys, but they do generate a lot of mess.”
I rose. “Thanks for being so straight with me. I appreciate it.”
“You’re a good friend.” Holding my shoulders, she stared into my eyes. “I trust my conversation with you will not go any further.”
“You can count on me.”
I trudged out the door. Cindy was the only person they were looking at. Taking a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and headed for the rectory. Father Tom’s assistant answered the door.
“Good morning, Belinda. Is Father Tom in?”
“Yes, he’s in his study. Come in and give me a moment to see if he can take a break.”
The entryway had such beautiful wood molding that always seemed polished to a high sheen. I reached out and sketched one of the curves with my finger.
“The father will see you now.”
I jumped. “Thanks, Belinda. I appreciate it.” She led me to his study.
I shook his hand. “Good morning, Father.”
“Good morning, Merry. To what do I owe this pleasure?” We both sat.
“I’m worried about Cindy Twilliger and the murder of Ben Ford.”
“The police will catch the guilty party, I’m sure. There’s no need to worry.”
“Patty’s really worried, and when Patty’s worried, I’m worried. What do you think happened?”
“I don’t know. However, the police mentioned the knife that was used was from my pantry.”
“Your pantry? How many people would have access to that?”
“Quite a few, unfortunately. As you know, I meet with any parishioner who has need of me, and most of the people in town have been through my door.”
“But don’t you see most of them in your office?”
“Yes, but my office is right down the hall from the kitchen.” He pointed. “You’ve been in my kitchen many times yourself.”
“That’s true. When did you discover it was missing?”
“Neither Belinda nor I noticed it until Detective Ziebold asked about it. The last time Belinda remembered using it was a few days before Ben died.”
“Well, then it should be easy to figure out who was here in that small window of time.”
“As I told the detective, I do know who had appointments with me. However, sometimes people come unannounced, such as your pleasant arrival this morning.”
I moved forward in my chair. “Do you remember who you saw prior to Ben’s death?”
“I gave the police a list as well as Belinda and I could remember.”
“Would you share it with me?”
“No.” He shook his head. “When people come to me, they have an expectation of privacy, and I intend to respect that.” He sighed. “However, I can tell you two of the people who had access.”
“Really? Who?”
He smiled and waited a beat. “Cindy and Jenny.”
I sighed. “Thanks for your time, Father. I appreciate it.”
This was going to be a tough slog. Picturing Cindy’s lovely face, I resigned myself to soldiering on. Gritting my teeth, I punched in Rob Jenson’s number on my way back to the office. “Hi, Rob. It’s Merry March. How are you today?”
“Merry, it’s good to hear from you.”
“I wondered if you’d be free for a drink this evening, say around five thirty?”
“That would be great. Where would you like to meet?”
“How about the Pickled Herring?”
“I’ll see you there. I’m looking forward to getting to know you better.”
I grimaced. “Me too.”
Chapter 7
My afternoon was productive. At four thirty, I ducked out so I could prepare for my meeting with Rob. Letting the cats out for a few minutes, I touched up my makeup and ran a brush through my hair. Texting Jenny I was going out, I brought the cats in by tempting them with treats. That done, I went to the Pickled Herring. A few minutes early, I grabbed a table and asked for a glass of water. At five thirty exactly, Rob came in the door. I like a man who is punctual. We shook hands and sat.
“I’m glad you suggested this, yet somewhat surprised.” Rob said.
“What do you mean?” I asked, my eyes wide. “I told you I’d get back to you in a few weeks.”
He grinned at me. “I know, but I thought you were just letting me down easy.”
Darn. What a great smile. I smiled back. “Not at all. How are you finding the newspaper business?”
“For a small town, there’s a lot going on.”
“What do you mean?”
Leaning forward, his eyes narrowed. “The murder was a biggie.”
Shifting in my seat, I came to attention. “What have you found out?” Just then, the waiter approached.
“Let’s order first. What would you like?”
“I’ll have a glass of the Cabernet. Would you like to share an order of the calamari?”
“That would be great.” Rob turned to the waiter. “The calamari and I’ll have a pint of your house ale.” After the waiter left, Rob smiled at me. “Now, where were we?”
“You were going to share what you found out.”
“That’s right. To be honest, I haven’t gotten very far. I’m the new kid in town, and people are reluctant to talk to me.” Rob rolled his cocktail napkin and then unrolled it. He fixed me with his brilliant green eyes. “I do know that the knife came from the priest’s house and that the police believe the prime suspect is Patrick and Patty’s daughter.”
“It can’t be Cindy. Have you heard anything else from the police?”
“Apparently, the priest—”
“Father Tom.”
“Yes, Father Tom gave the police a list of people who had access to the rectory during the time frame in question.”
“Were you able to get a copy of it?”
“No. They are playing it very close to the vest.”
Our drinks and calamari arrived. Sighing, I bit into one. “I love the fried calamari here. It’s nice and crispy, and it comes with a very tasty marinara sauce.”
Rob ate a piece and smiled. “I agree. Some places don’t cook it enough, and others overcook it so it tastes like rubber. If the rest of the food is as good, I’m going to come here more often.”
“It is. I can attest to that.”
Rob lowered his voice and moved closer. “I do know one person who was at the rectory.”
“If you say Cindy Twilliger, I’m going to scream.”
Sitting back in his chair, Rob gave me a strange look. “Why would I say that? You already know Cindy and your daughter were there.”
“Never mind. I had a run-in with someone who thought he was being funny earlier. Who was there?”
Rob moved even closer and again lowered his voice. “John Gordan. He mentioned it when I ran into him after you left the Morning Pastry the other day.”
“How did that come up?”
“We were commiserating about all of the things you have to do when you move. He talked about meeting with Father Tom to join the parish and the fact that they had coffee in the kitchen. He remarked on it because he said it was a departure from the larger parishes he had been a part of.”
“Well, I can’t see the superintendent of schools being a murderer.”
“You never know. Stranger things have happened.”
I swirled the wine in my glass. “What would you think about working together on this?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m concerned about Cindy, and I know everyone in town. They’re more likely to talk to me than to you.”
“What about your feelings on reporters?”
“I’m willing to set them aside to tackle this issue.”
Rob smiled. “Deal.”
I clinked his glass. “So what’s next?”
“I have a request in to see the autopsy report. Luckily this is an open-records state.”
“When do you think you’ll get it?”
“In the next day or so. I’ll call you when it comes in.”
The check came, and Rob moved to cover it with his hand. I snatched it up. “My treat. I invited you.”
“Okay, but the next one is on me.”
We both grinned and shook hands. “Do you need a lift?” he asked.
“No.” I laughed. “Don’t read into this, but I’d rather walk. Thanks for the offer.”
Stretching my legs on the way home, I replayed our discussion. I was still concerned about working with him, but I was hopeful that between the two of us we would figure out who the killer was. When I opened my garden gate, Nancy waved to me from her porch. I joined her.“Good evening, Merry. Coming home a bit late, aren’t you?”
“No, not really. Just met a friend for a quick drink.” I reached into one of her container mums and touched the soil, my hand coming away dry. “Do you want me to water this?”
“I’d appreciate it. It’s difficult for me to reach up like that.”
Retrieving the watering can, I poured a steady stream onto the plant. “I have a question for you.”
“What is it?”
“You mentioned you and Ben Ford were friends the other day. I was just wondering if he seemed different or more worried in the last few weeks?”
“No, not especially. Though now that you mention it, he was kind of quiet the last time I saw him. He also said he might be planning a trip, and that was really odd.”
I put the watering can next to the porch swing and sat. “Why?”
“He was a real skinflint. He hated to spend money, and he told me on more than one occasion that he never took vacations because they were just a waste of money. He’d say, ‘Why go on vacation when you have a perfectly good roof over your head right here?’”
“That doesn’t sound like someone who would be planning a trip.”
“That’s why I thought it was strange.” Nancy sat back in her chair. “But we just had a quick conversation. I wish I had had more time to talk with him.”
“If you think of anything else, please let me know.”
“I will. I know you are concerned about Patty Twilliger’s daughter.”
“I am. Thanks.”
Waving one last time, I let myself in the house. There was a note from Jenny that she was at the library studying, so I took a pad out and wrote down everything I had learned so far. Quickly heating up some soup and eating it, I headed upstairs for a long bath.
Chapter 8
Meetings all day helped keep my mind off the murder. There was a message from John Gordan on my desk when I returned. Smiling, I punched in his number.
“Hello?”
“Hi, John, it’s Merry. I’m returning your call.”
“Merry, it’s good to hear from you. I wanted to follow up after you ran off the other morning.”
I laughed. “I did not run off. It was just time to leave.”
“Regardless, I wanted to see if you were free for dinner on Saturday?”
“That would be great. What time?”
“How about if I pick you up at six thirty?”
“I look forward to it.”
Smiling like a girl about to go on her first date, I stuffed some things in my briefcase and walked out the door. The last one in the office, I locked the outer door. As I turned, Belinda Harper, Father Tom’s assistant, scooted by. “Belinda.”
“Hi, Merry. How are you?”
“Glad this busy day is over.”
She looked at her watch. “You and me both! Father Tom has been having so many visitors it’s hard to keep up.”
“I’m sure it is.” I tried to keep her talking. “That reminds me. Belinda, do you remember who visited the rectory the day Ben Ford died?”
She shifted her packages from one hand to the other. “I wasn’t there the whole day, but let me think. You, of course, and Jenny, Patty and Cindy, that reporter fellow—”
“Rob Jenson?”
“Yes, that’s him. Let’s see, who else? Oh, that’s right—the new superintendent, John Gordan. And, of course, poor Ben Ford came by late with the mail, God rest his soul. I think that’s everyone. Oh, and Gloria Krump came by from the Morning Pastry. She brought a coffee ring for the evening Bible study group. I love their food, don’t you?”
“Yes. It is tasty.”
Belinda stopped fidgeting. “Why are you so interested in who came by the rectory?”
“I’m trying to see if I can help Patty with Cindy.”
“I’m sure she had nothing to do with it. She’s just a child.”
“Belinda, would it be okay if I called you if I have other questions?”
“If I can help, I will, but I need to be getting home now.”
“Thanks.”
After stopping to pick up a few thin
gs for dinner, I rounded the corner to my house. Patty Twilliger sat on my front porch. Quickening my steps, I gave her a big hug before sitting beside her. “How are you?”
“Exhausted. And Patrick isn’t much better.”
“Are you running away from home?”
“Thinking about it. They’ve asked Jenny and Michael not to leave town. Needless to say, they weren’t planning on it, but the fact that the police told them not to is really troubling.”
I rubbed her shoulder. “I’ve started investigating, but it’s been slow going. I’ve even teamed up with Rob Jenson.”
Patty slowly raised her left eyebrow. “Isn’t that interesting?”
“Nothing more to it than that, no matter what you are implying. In fact, I have a date with John Gordan on Saturday night.”
She smiled. “You’re becoming quite the popular lady.”
“As I remember, you’re the one who set me up.” I leaned into her shoulder.
“I wasn’t thinking you were going to go out with both of them. Plus, I thought you had sworn off men.”
“Just weighing my options. It’s early days yet. I may end up being just friends with one or both of them.”
“Friends.” She laughed and completed it with air quotes. “I need to get back.”
“Let me know if there is anything you need me to do.” I gave her a quick hug.
Finally opening the door, I put down my briefcase. Jenny sat at the kitchen table with four books open. Her elbow marked her place in one, a coffee mug another, and her hands the last two. I gave her a quick squeeze. “What would you do if you had another book?”
Without looking up, she quipped, “I still have my feet.”
I laughed. “Are scallops okay for dinner?”
“Always!”
“I’m going to run up and change.”
Coming back down in my sweatpants and T-shirt, I grabbed a glass of wine. I asked Jenny, “Have you talked to Cindy?”
“We’ve texted a few times, but she really hasn’t had a lot of time to talk.”
“Did she explain why she left with Michael the day you were helping Father Tom?”
Murder So Sinful Page 4