by Carol A. Guy
The Englers, Rudy and Tina, were in an animated conversation with Lloyd Fletcher. Adelaide’s stomach lurched at the sight of Lloyd, who she didn’t recall seeing at the funeral. He never missed an opportunity to promote his casino cause. She seriously doubted he’d change the Englers’ minds. They were very vocal about their opposition to the idea.
Julie Buckner Simpson circulated through the crowd, acting as fidgety as ever. She was probably hoping for some juicy tidbits for tomorrow’s Tribune.
Adelaide’s gaze fell on Mark Cardosa who was dressed in an expensive looking suit that was surely custom-made. He slithered through the crowd with reptilian smoothness, always keeping an eye on anyone approaching Susan, who was now standing with her parents next to the over-laden dining room table.
“I can’t stay long,” said Mary Ellen Oliver, sidling up beside them, “but I felt like someone from the library needed to pay their respects. Jerry was an avid supporter of the Friends of the Library.”
Vernon took off, heading for the food. Adelaide turned to Mary Ellen. “Do you think you could do me a favor?”
Mary Ellen looked immediately nervous. “I suppose…what is it?”
“Could you keep Mark Cardosa busy while I have a private word with Susan?”
Mary Ellen looked about ready to faint. “Oh, I don’t know him. I can’t just go up and talk to a strange man.” She looked in Mark’s direction, her hands twisting fretfully together.
“I just need him distracted for a moment. Look, he’s standing alone over there.” She pointed to the marble fireplace that took up almost a whole wall in the wide, gracious living room. She gave Mary Ellen a nudge in that direction.
Mary Ellen hung back. “But what will I say to him?” She was pale, her turquoise eyes wide with apprehension.
“Talk about what a terrible loss it is. Which is true. Tell him how good Jerry was to the library.”
Mary Ellen haltingly walked toward the suave attorney. He held a drink in his hand. Adelaide surmised by the color that it was straight Scotch or bourbon. She watched as Mary Ellen approached the man. Surprisingly, he smiled then said something to her. Mary Ellen’s stiff posture seemed to relax a little.
Wasting no time, Adelaide rushed into the dining room, swooping in on Susan, who was still standing with her parents. “Let’s have that talk. Where would be a good place?” She glanced at the startled elderly couple. “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Taylor. Mind if I borrow your daughter for a moment?” They looked up at her, confused. “It’s Adelaide Stevens.” She always used her maiden name with older folks who’d known her since she was a kid. “Good to see you looking so well.” Their tan faces cleared. Olivia Taylor started to speak, but Adelaide was already pushing Susan into the kitchen. From there Susan led her into a small utility room.
“Mother hasn’t been the same since that stroke last year,” Susan said. “Daddy’s not in good health either. They both look so old today.”
That’s because they are old.
The Taylors had been in their mid-forties when Susan was born. Olivia Taylor often commented that she thought she was finished with childbearing by the time she became pregnant for the fourth time.
After closing and locking the door, Susan let out a heavy sigh. “I’ll be so glad when this day is over. I want to go off somewhere and hide. Julie, the reporter from hell, has been following me around like a bloodhound. I still can’t believe Lloyd Fletcher showed up to eat my food. He and Jerry hated each other.”
“We don’t have much time, Susan. What is it you wanted to tell me?” Adelaide said.
“Everyone thinks Jerry was killed because of my affair with Douglas. I know that’s not true. Douglas intended to retire at the end of the year. Of course, the police don’t believe that for a minute.” Bitterness was evident in her tone.
“Yes, he told me that yesterday.”
Susan’s eyes widened. “You believe him, don’t you?” Her voice was edged with something close to uncertainty, as though she needed someone else to say they believed what Douglas claimed so she could also believe it.
Adelaide nodded. “I’m finding it hard to think of him as a cold blooded killer.” Or is it just that I don’t want to believe it?
Susan nodded, looking relieved. “Jerry had something on his mind long before he found out about us. In fact he didn’t know I was seeing Douglas until the week before he died. Sometime in mid-October I noticed he was very distracted.”
There’s that word again. Distracted.
“I pressed him to tell me what was bothering him, thinking he’d discovered my affair, which began in late September, by the way, since everyone seems to be so interested in that detail. Anyway, that wasn’t it. Right before Thanksgiving he finally confided in me. He said he was very worried about a situation at the church. He said he’d stumbled on it by accident in October. He said he hoped he could handle it without involving the…police. He said he wanted to keep it in-house. That’s the term he used, in-house.”
“He didn’t go into specifics?”
Susan shook her head. “I tried to press him for more details. But all he’d say is that it was his responsibility to resolve it.”
Adelaide’s mind was reeling. What had Jerry Hatfield discovered? “He didn’t mention it again?”
“No. The holidays were approaching, then there was the bazaar, and he found out I was seeing Douglas so everything got really crazy…then he was…gone.”
Adelaide eyed Susan sternly. “Why did you really try to break it off with Douglas on Saturday?”
She looked a little ashamed. “Douglas told me what he was willing to do to be with me, but I was reluctant to give up my lifestyle. Jerry provided me with everything I wanted. I have this beautiful home. I never had to worry about money. I knew who had the real money in Douglas’s family. It was Fran.” She wiped away a tear. “How would we live? What would Douglas do to earn money if he gave up the ministry? These questions just kept rolling around in my mind. But I love him so much, so very much.”
Adelaide felt her stomach clench. So, Susan’s motives for trying to convince Douglas not to quit the ministry weren’t so self-sacrificing after all. Or was that all a lie? Perhaps the couple had come up with a plan to have their cake and eat it too. “Well, you don’t have to worry about that now, do you? I understand Jerry left a very healthy life insurance policy.”
Susan looked as though she’d been struck. “You don’t believe me. You think we killed Jerry for that money!”
Adelaide recalled her conversation with Harold Purcell at the hospital. “Actually, what you’ve told me goes along with what a couple of other people noticed in the weeks before Jerry was killed.”
“Who?”
“I’d rather not say right now. They noticed Jerry was, as you put it, distracted, not himself.”
“Then you do believe me?” Susan looked beseechingly at Adelaide.
Instead of answering, Adelaide unlocked the door and pulled it open. Mark Cardosa stood across the room, leaning against the porcelain sink, a look of disapproval etched across his face.
Walking past him without speaking, Adelaide went to find Vernon. It was time to visit Carl.
Chapter Twenty-six
Vernon insisted on driving Adelaide to the medical center. “Now tell me what’s on your mind. I saw you hustling Susan out of the room earlier. By the way, Cardosa was hot on your trail.” He expertly maneuvered the Escalade through the slushy streets, turning north onto Dogwood Avenue with practiced ease.
“I think Jerry was killed because of something else he discovered going on in the church.” Adelaide gazed out at the white landscape, her mind furiously trying to put the puzzle pieces together.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. But Susan said he had something heavy on his mind and it wasn’t her and Douglas’s affair, since he didn’t know about it at that point. She said he didn’t want to involve the police, that he wanted it handled in-house. Also, Harold Purcell said something to the same effect
, that Jerry was troubled by something and made references to letting the person make it right. This dates back to mid-October. I’m hoping Carl can remember some other things Jerry might have said. They were together every Monday morning counting the offering. If he was going to confide in anyone, it would be him.”
They found Carl sitting up in his hospital bed eating lime gelatin. He’d been moved to a regular two-bed room on the same floor. The second bed was empty.
Adelaide gave him a hug. His stubble of gray beard felt rough against her cheek. He still had an IV dripping into the back of one hand. Above his bed a cardiac monitor beeped with each heartbeat.
“I hear there was quite a turnout for Jerry’s funeral,” he said. He reached over to put the empty gelatin container on the over-the-bed tray, but Ethel was already on her feet, taking it from his hand. “I can do it. She thinks I’m an invalid all of a sudden.”
Ethel smoothed his bed covers. “He’ll do too much too fast then have a relapse, and I’ll have twice as much to do when he gets home.”
Adelaide was used to the good-natured banter between the two of them. It was always done with affection. She couldn’t recall ever hearing them say a cross word to one another.
Vernon walked to the other side of Carl’s bed. “So, when are they going to spring you from this place?”
“Not in time for mayor’s court tonight, I’m afraid. It’s canceled until further notice,” Carl said.
Vernon chuckled. “I’m sure the defendants won’t mind.”
Carl smiled. Ethel huffed. Adelaide took off her coat and tossed it over the back of Ethel’s chair. They stood around him like sentinels.
Carl’s smile faded. “Adelaide, you’ve got something weighing on your mind. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”
Adelaide sighed. “Harold tells me you’d both noticed a change in Jerry in the two months before his death. I spoke to Susan today after the funeral. She said the same thing. But she added that Jerry told her there was something wrong at the church, which he hoped to handle himself without involving the police. Did Jerry ever mention anything like that to you?”
Ethel sat down in the chair, moving around to accommodate the bulk of Adelaide’s coat against her back.
Carl looked pensive. “He did seem concerned about something.”
Adelaide felt the hairs on the back of her neck stir. “Did he elaborate?”
Carl ran a hand over his close cropped gray hair, then winced. “I keep forgetting I have about a dozen stitches back there. Whoever hit me packed a wallop.”
“You said Jerry was worried about something. What was it?” Adelaide pressed. She noticed her hands were clenched so tight that her fingernails were digging painfully into the palms.
“He said cash giving seemed down. At first, back in September, he thought it was because people were out of work. He said he supposed it was to be expected. He mentioned it again in October. This time he seemed to be a little agitated. I’d noticed it too, of course. I reminded him that our members were having a tough time financially, so that maybe they were just saving their money for the upcoming holiday.”
“How did he respond to that?” Adelaide began to pace behind Ethel’s chair, which was pulled up close to the bed.
“He said that could be one reason. I asked him if he thought there was another.”
Vernon took off his coat, laying it across the foot of the bed. “What was his response?”
“He refused to elaborate.”
“Where is this leading?” Ethel asked.
“I think we can all guess,” Adelaide snapped.
Carl’s eyes widened. “You mean he suspected someone was stealing from the church?”
“It would certainly be like Jerry to refuse to say more until he had proof positive,” Vernon said.
Ethel cleared her throat. “I assume we’re talking about the offering money.”
Carl frowned. “I don’t see how that could be. Only three people had the combination to that old safe—Jerry, me and,” he hesitated for a moment, “…the minister.”
Adelaide looked at Vernon. There was no mistaking the glint in his eyes. If Jerry had been taking money, which was ludicrous, he’d hardly draw attention to it by mentioning that the cash offering was down. There was no way Carl would touch a penny that wasn’t his. That left only one suspect. Once again, it looked bad for Douglas Underwood.
Carl cleared his throat self-consciously. After exchanging glances with his wife, he said, “I also have to tell you that when Ethel and I counted the bazaar money it seemed off, also. I’m sure I noticed four fifties in there on Saturday, but when we counted it on Monday there were only three.”
Adelaide was aghast. “Why didn’t you mention it to me?”
“Ethel asked me if I was wearing my glasses on Saturday. I couldn’t recall. She suggested I might have mistaken twenties for fifties. The more I think about it, though, the more I know I was right the first time.”
Movement in the doorway diverted Adelaide’s attention. Daniel was standing there, staring at Carl. She had no idea how long her son had been listening to their conversation.
“Good to see you sitting up and taking nourishment, Mr. Henshaw,” Daniel said as he strode into the room. He glanced at Adelaide as he passed by.
Ethel glanced around then looked at her husband. “I’m afraid all these visitors might tire you out.” She looked from Vernon to Adelaide. “Daniel set up this time to talk to Carl.”
Vernon picked up his coat off the bed and walked toward the door. “Come on, Addy. We need to get going so Daniel can do his job.”
Adelaide felt her cheeks heat up. Ethel remained in her chair. Carl was fiddling with the hospital bed controls, trying to raise the head up further. The motor whirred but nothing moved. Daniel stared at his mother, his expressive green eyes now full of questions.
Adelaide tugged her coat out from behind Ethel’s back none too gently. Ethel made a small grunting noise but didn’t get up.
In the hallway, after Carl’s door was firmly shut behind them, Adelaide turned to Vernon. “What was that all about? I don’t appreciate being given the bum’s rush.” She strode toward the elevators, tugging on her coat as she went.
Vernon helped her with the garment, trying to keep pace. “I’m beginning to agree with you, Adelaide. I’m wondering why Carl didn’t mention Jerry’s comments to the police.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if Douglas Underwood has become the convenient scapegoat for everything that goes wrong in that church. Why would he steal cash from the offering plate? His wife is rich.”
“Maybe she cut off the tap. He was a chronic cheater, according to what’s come out so far, and Susan obviously has expensive tastes,” Vernon suggested. “A minister’s salary would hardly cover that.”
“The Underwoods have been married for a long time. Why cut off the money now? Besides, Susan didn’t indicate to me that she demanded Douglas buy her expensive things. Her husband supplied her with all the money and trinkets she wanted, which, by the way, is the reason she gave me for not wanting to divorce him. Besides how much could he have taken at a time without it being obvious? Twenty, forty, fifty? That’s pocket change to a man in Douglas’s situation. It just doesn’t make sense.”
The elevator doors slid open. Once they entered the car, Adelaide leaned against the back wall, feeling the vibration as the machinery lowered them to the first floor.
In the Escalade, as they turned from Dogwood Avenue onto Buckeye Street, Vernon said, “I need to get back to the pharmacy. Would you like to have dinner tonight? I’ll cook at my place.”
Adelaide thought that sounded tempting but not tonight. “I’m beat. I have some stops to make, then I’m going home. The only thing in my future tonight is a nice, hot bath followed by an early bedtime. How about a rain check?”
“Sure,” Vernon told her as he turned into the funeral home parking lot where her car was parked. He turned sideways in the seat, staring intently at he
r. “Let Daniel be the detective here, Adelaide. It’s what he’s paid to do.”
Opening the passenger door, Adelaide got out of the vehicle. Turning back to Vernon she said, “There’s something at play here that has nothing to do with Susan and Douglas’s affair. I can feel it. We’re missing an important component. If someone was taking money from the offering and it wasn’t Carl, Douglas or Jerry, then we have a very clever thief in our midst, possibly a murderer as well!”
* * * *
Adelaide didn’t go home. Instead she drove to the parsonage. She saw James Preston’s familiar Ford Taurus in the driveway. Sitting in front of it was Douglas’s Nissan.
She parked as close to the curb as possible, considering how much snow lay piled up there from various plowings. Quickly exiting her Camry, she hurried up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds she rang it again. From inside she heard a sharp bark.
When the door opened she was face to face with James. At his heels was Suzie, his six-year-old blonde cocker spaniel. The minister’s face lit up with a big smile at the sight of her. “Douglas and I were just talking about you, Adelaide. Come in.” He stepped back, gesturing her into the living room with a wave of his pudgy hand. The trousers he wore were gray, his long-sleeve shirt navy blue. There was a chef’s apron folded in half tied around his ample waist. The aroma of chicken and herbs filled the air. She bent to pet Suzie, who wagged her stub of a tail furiously before trotting off in the direction of the kitchen.
“So, I was being discussed? That must be why my ears are ringing. Something smells delicious,” Adelaide said, looking around. The only pieces of furniture left in the living room were a sofa, end table and lamp. Looking through the archway into the dining room, Adelaide could see it was empty.
“We were discussing how helpful you’ve been in solving other crimes in town through the years.”
She knew what he was getting at. “I’m no expert at crime solving, James, you know that.”
His smile widened. “Don’t be so modest. I know you’ll do all you can to help Douglas, won’t you?”