A tall, thin woman with a wispy pouf of gray hair flecked with stray strands of black, Julia Meyers Alger greeted everyone with a serene smile, conceding loving hugs only to her great-grandchildren.
The smile was guarded, Ronnie could tell. Nana’s eyes looked tired, and the crow’s feet underneath appeared more pronounced on a face that normally defied it’s true age by about fifteen years. There was no question that her grandmother had not taken the news of Lorena’s disappearance well.
“I’d love a glass of tea, thank you, dear,” Nana said to Gina, and she turned to the Sanderses as Father Joel made introductions. Arthur, hanging back by the door and observing the party with some timidity, quietly refused Bill’s offer of a drink.
“I really can’t stay, anyway,” Arthur added, shifting uncomfortably in place. “I have some extra work at the office that unfortunately cannot wait, sorry.”
Nana seated herself next to Brenda Sanders and scoffed. “Pish. Arthur, I swear, the way they work you over there.” In an aside to Brenda she whispered, “You’d think he was the only insurance agent in northern Florida.”
“If you like, Uncle Arthur, I’ll drive Nana home when we’re done,” Ronnie offered. “It’ll save you the trip of having to come all the way here from Jacksonville then back home. If you’re working late, too, who knows when you’ll be back?”
Arthur’s eyes brightened at the idea, and Ronnie smiled. It would be nice, at least, to spend a few minutes alone with her grandmother on the drive home and talk. She rarely got the chance during Nana’s visits to the Hayes’s home, having to compete with Gina and the boys for her attention.
Arthur agreed and bid a hasty farewell, passing Lew down the gravel path that led to the front door. The sheriff called out the man’s name in greeting, but only the crunching of rocks underfoot was heard, followed by the slam of a car door.
Lew handed Ronnie a nondescript paper bag filled with Michelob Light. “What’s eating him?”
“High insurance payouts, what else? You need to renew any policies?”
“Don’t I ever.”
No more introductions were needed. Lew nodded benignly to Arlen and Brenda, and shortly afterward Gina called everyone to the dinner table. Conversation maintained a light and pleasant atmosphere throughout the salads and most of the main course, but as Ronnie took a bite of steaming hot lasagna she wondered who would be first at the table to broach the subject of Lorena and Paul Dix. Everyone appeared to eye each other anxiously, probably thinking similar thoughts, she noticed. Only Ian and Elliott appeared more focused upon their food, and only to finish it quickly and wait to be excused. In exchange for their good behavior, Ronnie and Gina had promised to let them watch television in Ronnie’s room, as Ronnie had a separate cable hookup with a wider variety of channels.
“So.” Bill coughed into his napkin. “Arlen, Brenda. You said you had not heard about Lorena being buried in Ash Lake until recently?”
Ronnie could see the couple visually twitch, as if they were the ones responsible for all the trouble. Did this count as broaching the subject?
Arlen swallowed a bite of noodle. “Well, I had read about Lorena’s pending canonization in our paper back home. Then I went online and checked the Florida Times-Union website for more information,” he began, looking to the priest for confirmation.
“Actually, a date for canonization hasn’t been set yet,” Father Joel corrected him. “Hopefully, our case to Rome will be accepted, and hopefully it won’t take as long as it did during the beatification process.”
“But now,” Nana sighed sadly. “Oh, and the new altar is almost completed, too!”
“They were gonna put Aunt Lorena in this cool glass coffin under the altar of the new BLACC,” Ian explained to Arlen’s quizzical expression, but was further silenced with a gentle swat by his mother.
“You know I don’t like it when you say that,” she scolded. “You say the name right, even if it takes forever,” she added to the boys’ open-mouthed protests. Many of the younger parishioners called the church BLACC, after Blessed Lorena Alger Catholic Church. Ronnie feared the moment the canonization actually happened, when the term would change to SLACC. She could imagine Ethan Fontaine having some fun, referring to local Catholics as slackers.
Arlen laughed nervously. “Anyway, we don’t have a sample from a saint’s grave, or rather an almost saint, so here we are. If everything’s okay, we’ll be heading out in the morning to go back home. Our vacation is almost over, and though we had hoped to get up to Georgia I think we should just get back.”
“Everything is okay,” Lew assured them. “There have been no charges filed against you. Far as I’m concerned, you’re free to go.”
Brenda’s face was still tensed. “You’re sure? Usually they tell people not to leave town when there’s been a murder.”
“True, if you’re a suspect,” Lew leered mischievously at the Sanderses, “if we have reason to suspect you.”
“Lew, stop it.” Nana chided him. “There’s no sense scaring the poor thing.” She gestured to Arlen and Brenda. “We owe them a debt of gratitude. I know they tried to clean up the trash from the site, even though you see it as tampering with a crime scene. I want this solved as much as everybody else, but I don’t find any fault with their actions.”
Arlen affirmed this and thanked Julia for her support.
“Did you get your dirt sample, Mr. Sanders?”
“It’s Arlen, please, and no.” Arlen finished his lasagna. “We weren’t allowed to remove anything, and besides I was no longer even thinking of that when we found...”
“Really?” A haughty glare aimed at Lew. “I find that interesting, since it’s my family’s property—”
“Miss Julie.” Lew said in his defense, “your property is also a crime scene, you said so yourself. It can’t be disturbed. Once everything is secured and we have all the evidence we can get, you can permit people to take dirt souvenirs if that’s what you want.”
“But they’ll be gone tomorrow,” Nana said with a sigh. “Well, I’ll see to it you get your sample for your collection. I mean, one scoop of dirt isn’t that invasive. Make sure one of us gets your address.”
“So, Sheriff Caperton, who is your number one suspect?” Father Joel asked anxiously. He looked about ready to burst.
“Not at liberty to discuss any more, sorry, Father.” Lew shrugged. “However, if you—”
“I know, I know.” Father Joel nodded wearily. “I’m expecting a ransom call any minute now, and I’ve alerted all the board members to screen incoming calls. I just don’t know what whomever did this is expecting. The committee just barely gets by with all our expenses, and we need every penny.”
“It’s true.” This from Nana. “The airfare for Rome came out of my pocket. Arthur had a hissy fit when saw the bill.”
Gina had her sons collect dirty plates and Ronnie rose to help with dessert. Elliott tugged his aunt’s sleeve, causing her to miscut the Bundt cake.
“Mr. Sanders says they’re gonna get dirt from Princess Di’s grave,” he bragged, “and he’s gonna give me some to start my own collection.”
Ronnie kept her head down. “Princess Diana is buried in the middle of a lake on her ancestral property. No visitors allowed. Do they plan on skydiving in the dead of night to get there?”
“Mr. Sanders says they have contacts. What do you think of that?”
Ronnie handed him two plates and forks. “I think if you and Ian don’t make a mess you can take these into my room and watch the Cartoon Network.”
The boys happily took the desserts and dashed away as Ronnie fixed eight more plates. Gina set a pot of coffee to brew and Ronnie inhaled, savoring the smell as the liquid sizzled into the pot. She watched the conversation in the dining room; Nana nodded quietly along as Lew and Father Joel chatted up the Sanderses. What the Ash Lake police wouldn’t do for a few good contacts, she thought.
~ * ~
Thanks and niceties exchanged, Arl
en and Brenda Sanders bade farewell to the rest of the dinner party, toting a sack of leftover cake and a jar of chow-chow relish made from the vegetables Bill grew in the backyard.
“I hope we were able to show them how friendly a town Ash Lake is,” Gina whispered to her sister as they waved the tourist couple down the gravel path. “I’d hate for Ash Lake to get a bad reputation.”
“Gina, relax. Who are they going to tell? Besides, they had a great time. The murder and grave robbery notwithstanding.” Ronnie could not help noticing how Arlen studied the small glass jar cradled in his hand. Whose graveyard dirt would eventually end up in there, she wondered.
Soon afterward Father Joel took his leave, but not before extracting a promise from Lew to be kept in the loop with regards to the case. “Whatever you need from me, it’s yours,” he said emphatically. “I want that girl back, in one piece, and I don’t want any more obstacles getting in the way of her being declared a saint.”
Leaving the rest of the dirty dishes for morning, Ronnie met Lew on the back porch swing with the six-pack. Behind them in the brightly-lit den Nana sipped her coffee as Gina chatted with wild gestures.
“Thank you for not pressing charges against the Sanderses.” Ronnie took a long pull from her beer bottle.
“Not a problem. They were very cooperative. I only hope Mr. Sanders’s fingerprints didn’t cover up those of the perps, assuming the perps handled the lock as well.”
“Yeah, well there’ll be other prints on that lock, too. Paul Dix’s, for one,” Ronnie said. “What else did you get from the cemetery?”
Lew scratched his chin. “Not a whole lot, I’m afraid. We’ll know soon enough whether or not there were any prints or fibers on the fast-food wrappers and beer cans left behind...”
“Which Arlen Sanders also handled.” Ronnie rolled her eyes. She could not stay mad at the man, however. His heart was in the right place.
“...and the one good partial footprint we did find came from a Reebook shoe, maybe men’s size 10. I got a pair just like ‘em.”
“So does Bill. So does half the state, I’m sure.” Ronnie upturned the bottle for one last swig and set it down on the hardwood deck floor before reaching into the paper bag resting between her and Lew for seconds. The alcohol was fast taking affect of her senses—she felt lightheaded and slightly euphoric, yet the stress of the day continued to weigh her down. It would take more than just a few beers to erase the image she invented in her mind of Paul Dix’s lifeless, cold body reaching up from a little girl’s grave.
She glanced over at Lew, who looked jaundiced underneath the stale yellow porch light. The lack of a smile aged him as well, which for a fleeting moment surprised Ronnie. His job could not have been more stressful than, say, that of a police officer in any other small Florida town. Lew had worked in Jacksonville prior to coming back to Ash Lake to work, and no doubt had to deal with homicide cases there. Perhaps this murder investigation well made up for lost time.
“You think this, uh, committee is counting on more than spiritual glory should Lorena be canonized?” Lew asked.
“What do you mean? Are you asking if Father Joel hopes to make money off the whole thing? Is that why you think he’s so anxious to get Lorena back?” Ronnie huffed.
Lew nodded slowly with a crooked smile, as if aware he was treading dangerous waters.
“He plays the part well, Ron. You can’t deny that Ash Lake will benefit from a canonization.”
“Nana wants her back, too, you know! Are you going to accuse her of being an opportunist as well?” What was Lew implying, Ronnie wanted to know. Could he possibly be thinking Lorena’s absence was staged to gain publicity? “Didn’t it ever occur to you that perhaps Father Joel just admires Lorena so much that he wants to do this out of the goodness of his heart?”
Much to Ronnie’s shock, Lew echoed her thoughts. “It’s my job to read people, Ron, and I’m sorry, but there was something about Father Joel that didn’t seem right to me.”
“Sorry, I forgot how fashionable it is these days to bash Catholic priests and lump all the good ones in with the sex offenders.” Ronnie stood abruptly and swayed back slightly, as if she was still on the swing. She held the half-empty bottle to her lips but thought better of drinking; Nana would not let her behind the wheel if she appeared the least bit intoxicated, which she was not. Having the sheriff nearby was not a bonus, either.
“I’ll admit perhaps there are people on the committee who see Lorena more as a commodity than a saint,” she continued cautiously, keeping her voice low. She swore she saw Gina glancing in her direction with some concern. “Though I’m not involved with the process myself, I can tell you that Father Joel doesn’t feel that way. He’s been researching the cause for years, and judging from the great pains he’s taken to keep Lorena’s grave in good shape, I don’t fault him for anything.”
She noticed Lew’s frown and could almost read his mind. If Father Joel busted his behind to protect Lorena’s grave, how was it that she was still grave-napped?
“Ron—”
Ronnie held up her hands to silence him. “Yes, people hope the canonization will bring some money into Ash Lake. Hell, Arlen and Brenda Sanders drove clear up the state to see for themselves, and that could be the beginning of something big. But Father Joel has promised Nana that Lorena won’t be turned into a sideshow.”
“What, no T-shirts?” Lew flashed a wry smile and received a scowl in return. He nudged his head against the window. “Look, it’s getting late. I’m sorry if I’ve ticked you off, but you of all people should know—”
“I know, I know,” Ronnie interrupted. She argued often with Jim over his case procedures. She knew the drills and accepted them, though she did not always agree.
Out in the dark of the backyard the croaking and chirping of nature rose to a crescendo, and a myriad of tiny winged insects swarmed the porch lights, with the occasional mosquito swooping down for a snack. It was time to go inside, and Lew reached for the door to hold for Ronnie.
“What’s your schedule like next Friday?”
Ronnie snorted. “School will be out. I have no schedule.”
“I got tickets to see Ted Nugent in Jacksonville. Wanna go?”
Ronnie froze in place, her heart fluttered. Just like that, he asked her out. No shy shuffling of feet, no stuttering. Just asked her out the way a person asks for extra ketchup packets at McDonald’s.
Why now, she wondered. Lew never seemed to show much romantic interest in her. Then again, she had always been with Jim. Since his death, Ronnie saw Lew sporadically, usually passing each other downtown during lunch or at a pizza place for dinner. Ronnie imagined Gina would have had him over for dinner more often if Bill was not so jealous of their past relationship.
“Ron?” Lew motioned her inside. Deep inside Gina was hollering at them to shut the door.
“Criminy, you guys! You’re letting the bugs inside!”
“Huh? Oh, sorry,” Ronnie called and stopped quickly inside. Behind her Lew brushed up against her shoulders and her skin prickled. She sensed he was waiting for an answer, and feeling perhaps a bit silly for asking.
“You remember my cousin John who lives on the Northside,” he said. “He was going to go but he can’t get off work, so I got the extra ticket.”
“Oh, yeah. No, I’d love to go.” Ronnie tried to sound nonchalant. She did not want to lead him to think she was open to a relationship, if that was his intention. She did not expect to date again. Nobody could match up to Jim, not even his best friend and partner.
Chapter Seven
“Look at that moon, would you?” Nana tilted her head against the passenger side window of Ronnie’s Firebird and gazed dreamily as tall, darkened trees blurred past at sixty miles an hour. “Like a giant snowball. I should have asked Bill to get out his telescope so we could get a better look at it.”
“Plenty of time for that. Best time’s in the summer when the sky is clear, next time we have a cookout.” Ronnie
knew her brother-in-law was itching to get the grill out of mothballs; barbecues at the Hayes house were legendary.
“Mmm,” Nana murmured and rolled her head to face her granddaughter. “Just as well I stayed inside anyway. I didn’t want to disturb you and Lew.”
Ronnie frowned. “Nana, you know you’re never a bother. Lew loves hanging out with you.”
“I know, dear, but he seemed to want to, ah, hang out with you more.” There was no mistaking the innuendo in the older woman’s voice.
“What?” A brown, furry flash sped across the path of the car, prompting Ronnie to swerve slightly. Nana grasped the counter console for balance. “Sorry about that. I just can’t believe you’re implying Lew would be romantically interested in me.”
Mystery Bundle (Saints Preserve Us, Pray For Us Sinners, Murder Most Trivial) Page 6