Saints & Sinners Ball

by Stacy M Jones

  Harper was troubled by something. She studied the photos more closely. The way Fr. McNally looked in older photos was somewhat different when compared to now. She did an exhaustive search for a recent photo for comparison but oddly came up short. Harper tucked them in a file to explore more later.

  Then Harper made a few phone calls attempting to dig more into Fr. McNally’s life. She wasn’t finding much since he arrived in Little Rock. It seemed for a priest who was overseeing such a large parish as St. Joseph’s, Fr. McNally was really flying under the radar.

  Harper looked out her bedroom window to see if Jackson was across the street. His truck wasn’t there. She retreated to her bed to take a quick nap. Just as Harper was drifting off to sleep, she heard the floor outside her bedroom creak. Harper leaned forward and opened one eye to take a peek into the hall, expecting to see one of the dogs. There was no one there. She shrugged and laid back down, thinking she had imagined it.

  Again though, Harper heard the creak. This time it was louder and almost like steps. Harper sighed loudly, got up and went to look in the hall. That’s when she saw something move past the doorframe in Hattie’s bedroom. It looked like the back of a person just passing by but not quite as solid. It was more like a shadow. Harper blinked once and then twice, questioning what she really saw. Then fear took hold. Harper raced down the hall, not sure what she would find.

  Looking in Hattie’s room, there was no one there. Sparkle and Shine were sleeping peacefully on her aunt’s bed. Harper stood there, surrounded by the silence of the room. The only thing she could hear was the soft snores of the dogs. Harper relaxed. She laughed to herself.

  As Harper turned to leave, she caught sight of someone out her aunt’s bedroom window. Fr. McNally was in the clearing, looking down at the grass and then in the wooded part where Tucker’s body had fallen. Harper watched him for a few minutes. Fr. McNally was so lost in his mission, he never looked up. Eventually, he gave up and went back to the parish property.

  Harper got an idea. She went back to her bedroom and dug through her closet for her comfortable cross-trainers. She hadn’t been to the gym in months, but they were comfortable enough to hike through the woods. Harper laced up and went outside the back way. She retraced the steps she had taken the night before when she chased the prowler. Then Harper crossed the threshold into the woods and carefully watched the ground.

  Harper took careful step after careful step. The ground wasn’t flat. There was a bit of a hill to climb that then led to more flat ground. Hattie had told her that the woods eventually connected to other houses several blocks away. It was an undeveloped part of land that connected neighborhoods in the Heights. Standing at the top of one hill, Harper could make out much of the parish property through the trees. Not much was going on. Harper had no idea how many people worked in the buildings, but all seemed quiet.

  Harper went farther. She had been walking for close to twenty minutes since she left the house and was just about to give up when she saw something flashy on the ground. It caught her eye. Harper picked it up, and then wished she hadn’t when she saw what it was. It was a bright gold letter D key chain. The keys were missing and the latch was broken. It must have fallen off. Harper wished she hadn’t gotten her fingerprints all over it. She slipped it carefully into her pocket.

  Taking a few more steps around the area, she saw a screwdriver laying among the leaves and sticks. Harper contemplated going back to the house to get a bag to put it in, but she wasn’t sure she’d ever find the spot again. Harper took a leaf and used that to pick up the end of the screwdriver, not touching the handle at all. Harper started a quick jog back towards her aunt’s house.

  As she was approaching the hill that would take her back down to the yard, Harper noticed a man moving suitcases into the small brick building Hattie said led to the storm shelter. At first, Harper could only see his back. He was average height and had short dark hair. When he came out of the building, Harper saw his face and thought at first it was Fr. McNally. But it wasn’t. Their facial features looked incredibly similar. They had the same oval-shaped face, high forehead, straight pointed nose, and thin lips. They were both pale. Harper watched him bring suitcase after suitcase into the shelter and down the steps. Harper had no idea what she was witnessing.

  Feeling brave, Harper continued her walk down the hill, keeping the screwdriver out of sight on her right side. She gave it a toss into her aunt’s yard when she was close enough and then looped around to the parish property. Cutting through the woods, Harper came up to the door of the building just as the man was walking out.

  “Hi,” Harper said cheerily.

  When the man didn’t say anything she added, “I live next door. Just got a bit turned around exploring the woods.”

  “You’re not supposed to be here.” The man scowled.

  “Right, I know,” Harper conceded. “Just heading back next door. How’s it going today?”

  “Fine,” he snapped.

  Harper extended her hand, “I’m Harper.”

  He begrudgingly shook her hand. “Evan.”

  “Are you related to Fr. McNally? I thought it was him as I was walking down the hill,” Harper said eagerly, pointing behind her to the way she just came.

  “Brother,” was all he said. Then he walked away from Harper, leaving her standing there.

  Not wanting to come off too suspiciously, Harper headed back to Hattie’s, watching Evan pull more suitcases out of the car. It was the same car she had seen the night before. Maybe Fr. McNally was letting family stay there. Harper thought that might make more sense, but it still was strange. Calling over her shoulder as she turned the corner into the clearing, Harper yelled, “Nice to meet you, Evan.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Harper quickly ducked back into Hattie’s yard and ran into the kitchen to find a plastic bag big enough to put a screwdriver. As Harper came running out, she bumped right into Jackson who was poised on the steps about to knock on the door.

  “What’s the hurry, sunshine?” Jackson inquired, looking down at the bag and towel she had in her hands.

  “I think I found the screwdriver you saw the guy carrying last night,” Harper explained as she quickly moved around Jackson and scurried into the yard. Harper looked around until she found the screwdriver and used the towel to pick up the end, again not touching the handle. She carefully placed it in the bag.

  Jackson was watching her. “Where did you find it?”

  Harper pointed up into the woods. “I went for a walk. I wanted to follow the same path as the guy last night but in daylight. I found two things of interest right near each other. The screwdriver and a key chain with the letter D. I need to go put that in a bag next. It’s in my pocket.”

  “Sounds like you had an interesting day,” Jackson commented as he looked at her a bit funny.

  “What?”

  He didn’t respond, but instead reached out and removed a twig from her hair and ran his thumb against her cheek. “You had dirt on your face,” he said explaining his action.

  “Thanks, I always seem to be a mess when I see you,” Harper said a bit embarrassed. From the moment Harper met Jackson, she was not her usual poised self. First, Harper thought he was a handyman, then she showed up to dinner fresh from a shower with her hair all wet. Then Jackson saw her first thing in the morning and last night barely dressed at all.

  “I don’t mind,” Jackson said, his voice deeper than normal.

  Harper thought Jackson was acting a bit strange, but it had been such a strange day. She really didn’t have time to get into it. She started walking towards the house. “We need to catch up. Did you find anyone that saw Inslee at the party all night?”

  “No, I’ve pretty much talked to everyone that would talk to me. The consensus is the same. Inslee was definitely there early in the evening, and then he was gone. Last time I could get anyone to tell me they saw him was near eight, roughly two hours before you found Tucker’s body.”

&
nbsp; “I wonder where he went. That’s so strange to be there and then disappear, only to show up later like he’d never been there at all. Could Inslee have gotten called out to those burglaries?”

  Jackson shrugged. “That’s possible. That’s been an ongoing case for a while. Maybe they found something, and they wanted him at the scene.”

  “You think Det. Granger would know if Inslee was there or not? I remember him saying something about the burglaries having been his cases before he got pulled off of them to handle Tucker’s murder.”

  “You can always ask,” Jackson said. Pointing to the screwdriver, he added, “You’re going to have to call him to pick up that evidence anyway.”

  Harper walked back into the house with Jackson right behind her. She went to the tall cabinet near the stove and pulled out a smaller bag. Harper pulled the key chain from her pocket and dropped it in. She washed her hands and then pulled out the bread and meat and cheese from the fridge to make a sandwich. “Investigating makes me hungry,” Harper joked and offered to make Jackson a late lunch.

  Once they were sitting at the kitchen table, eating their turkey sandwiches and washing it down with Hattie’s sweet tea, Harper said, “I’ll call Granger when we’re done. What were you doing today?”

  Jackson took another bite and was quiet for a moment. Tentatively he said, “I had to go to a lawyer’s office to sort some things out with my divorce.”

  Harper didn’t press the issue. She gave him a sympathetic smile.

  They ate in silence for a few more minutes, then Harper remembered Jackson didn’t know about Roxy. Finishing the last of her sandwich, Harper told him, “I didn’t tell you. I was in Hattie’s shop today, and Granger paid us a visit. Roxy was murdered last night.”

  Jackson looked at her with his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. “Are you kidding me? Tucker and then his girlfriend? It’s obviously connected, right?”

  “I would think so.” Harper then added quietly, “Hattie feels pretty bad about it. When she was in the shop yesterday, Roxy had gotten a personal reading and all Hattie saw was bad cards including death. She assumed the energy was off. Hattie feels like she could have protected Roxy.”

  “Well that’s just silly,” Jackson concluded. “I’m sure Hattie is gifted, but she couldn’t have known.” He stood and picked up his plate and Harper’s. He took them to the sink, ran water over them and poured a little dish detergent. He stood there washing their dishes.

  Harper watched him with amusement. Nick would never have done the dishes, even if she had begged for his help. “That’s one of the reasons I don’t want to tap into these gifts Hattie says I have. Who would want the responsibility of knowing something like that before it happens? Sounds like a curse to me.”

  “Depends on how you look at it. Cops have any leads?” Jackson queried as he finished the last of the dishes and started drying them.

  Harper got up and put away the dishes as Jackson finished. “Det. Granger didn’t say. They found a note Roxy hid indicating Hattie knew everything she did. I’m concerned for her safety even more. Mine too. Granger didn’t think anyone else found the note, but who knows if Roxy told anyone she talked to Hattie.”

  “You want me to start spending the night here?” Jackson offered.

  Harper laughed. “You just want to show off those sexy legs.”

  Jackson stood back appraising her. “You think my legs are sexy, huh?”

  Harper blushed. She could start the flirting, she wasn’t very good at seeing it through. She said demurely, “Not bad. But at least we’re even now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You saw me early in the morning, and I’ve seen you in your undies.”

  “You’re not letting that go, are you?” Jackson laughed and shook his head.

  “Nope.” More serious, Harper added, “I think it would be great if you could crash in Hattie’s spare room until this all is solved. I’d feel safer with you here. I’m sure Hattie would, too.”

  Then she remembered something else. Excitedly she tugged on Jackson’s arm and said, “Come upstairs to my bedroom, there’s something I want to show you.”

  The look on Jackson’s face was priceless, a mix of uncertainty and amusement, but he followed Harper all the way up to her bedroom.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  It was late in the afternoon, and Hattie was exhausted. After the excitement the night before, she never really got back to sleep. All Hattie had done was toss and turn. Then Det. Granger telling her about Roxy had set her on edge. Hattie had wanted to cancel her afternoon readings, but she knew clients were on edge too, hoping for answers so she prepared as best she could. Hattie smudged the reading room with sage. She had Beatrix smudge her, and then Hattie spent a good twenty minutes in meditation, just clearing her mind. The readings went well, but it wiped what was left of her energy.

  Hattie was sipping some coffee at one of the tables, going over some accounting files on her laptop when Dan entered the shop. Hattie looked up, surprised to see him. She couldn’t remember a time he’d been in there. She called over to him, “This is a pleasant surprise, Dan. What can I do for you?”

  Dan came over to the table and pulled out the chair across from her. He sat down and folded his hands on the table. He looked stressed. Dan’s brow was furrowed and the wrinkle between his eyes more apparent. Hattie looked at him for an explanation.

  “I heard Roxy is dead.”

  Hattie nodded. She thought back to what Harper had said about his anonymous source. Hattie said, “She is. Did you know her?”

  “Yeah, we had met several times,” Dan said but didn’t elaborate.

  It was clear to Hattie that Dan was hesitant to speak about it, but he must want to otherwise he wouldn’t be there. “Would you like to find a more private spot to talk?” Hattie offered.

  “No, this is good. I’m not hiding anything anymore,” Dan snapped. Then he apologized and said in a more normal tone, “Roxy was my source. She was giving me information about Tucker and what he was investigating with the parish. The police were at my office earlier today and are ransacking my house as we speak. They told me I couldn’t be there.”

  “They searched my place, too, Dan. I think it’s pretty routine. I’m not sure how I can help.”

  “There’s more going on than you know,” Dan said seriously.

  She wondered why Dan came to her of all people. She also noted Dan never asked Hattie if she knew Roxy. Dan had either made an assumption or knew she had.

  Dan hesitated. “I’m not sure how much I should tell you.”

  “Well,” Hattie started, “you came here so you must need someone to confide in. We can just take our time.”

  Hattie clicked out of the accounting files, closed her laptop, and pushed it to the side. She got up and went to the counter. Hattie pulled out a mug and poured Dan a cup of coffee. She asked if he wanted cream and sugar. He shook his head no to both. Coming back over, Hattie sat the hot coffee in front of him. “Why don’t you tell me your concerns, and I’ll see what I can do.”

  “I’ve had a few threatening phone calls. At first, they were asking me what Roxy had told me. They said they’d spare me if I just told them,” Dan explained. He took a long sip of hot coffee and sat with his hands around the mug. “First Tucker and now Roxy. Clearly he was on to something.”

  “Why did Roxy come to you?” Hattie inquired. She thought back to what Tucker said. If he was confiding in Roxy, he had a reason. Did he want the story to break?

  “I’ve known Roxy from way back,” Dan admitted. “She was a source on some stories back from when I ran the newspaper. Roxy had a knack for getting gossip. She had affairs with powerful men, and they let their secrets slip. I guess she thought she could trust me again.”

  “And could she?” Hattie asked directly.

  “Of course,” Dan said wearily. “What’s with you and Harper suspecting me?”

  “No one is suspecting you, but right now, given all th
at’s happened, the questions have to be asked,” Hattie explained matter of fact. “Go on. What did Roxy tell you?”

  Dan dug through the messenger bag he had carried in with him, which was flung over the chair. He pulled out a small iPad. He touched the keypad and pulled up a note file. Dan read it over, and explained, “All Roxy told me was that Tucker was working on something big connected to the parish. At first, Roxy wasn’t sure who it was connected to. Then a few weeks later Tucker had let slip that Fr. McNally wasn’t really who he portrayed himself to be. I still don’t know exactly what that means though. There was information about him being in Brazil, and something happening there, but no real solid details. But it was enough for me to press Tucker for more. It was something we had argued about.”

  “But you never found out specifically?”

  “No, to this day I don’t know more,” Dan said defeated. “I didn’t tell Harper this last night, but I have some leads to run down that I’ve dug up on my own, but now Tucker is dead. Roxy is dead. Am I next?”

  “Let’s hope not.” Hattie breathed out an exasperated breath. “Do you think Tucker wanted you to break the story?”

  “No, definitely not. We argued over that. So that was the weird thing. I assumed that’s why he was telling Roxy at first, but after I talked to him, he definitely didn’t want me to know. Tucker was frustrated and angry that I knew.”

  Hattie agreed, “Tucker was too smart to spill secrets like that casually. He had to have had a reason to tell her.”

  Dan looked to Hattie. He asked, “I heard Roxy came here to talk to you. What did she tell you?”

  Hattie acted surprised. “How did you hear that?”

  “Just around, but did she tell you what she told me?”

  “I can’t get into what a client told me, Dan, but I’ll say I don’t know any more than you just told me,” Hattie explained cautiously. She wasn’t in the habit of exposing her clients’ secrets even if they were dead.

  Dan looked frustrated. “Where does this leave us? There’s not enough information to break the story, and we certainly can’t find out why Tucker told Roxy. I don’t even know if it’s safe for me to keep digging.”