In a world where women were often left to deal with pregnancies alone, while the men were free to simply walk away, Reggie had been determined to not be judgmental. That of course didn’t mean the whole thing didn’t make her very sad.
“Have you told the father yet?”
“Not yet. The test is in my bag. I thought it would be romantic for us to do it together,” Elsa said. “But I wanted to come and say a prayer first. I didn’t think I would ever have a child of my own.”
Reggie smiled indulgently. Oh, the young, so impatient for everything to happen now. Wait, was she agreeing with something that slimy Marcus Blackwell had said? Surely not.
After some quiet prayer, broken by a few gleeful giggles Elsa announced that she should go before it became much darker and after a warm hug, she practically floated out the doors.
Reggie smiled watching the girl go but her gaze Inevitably shifted up to the stained glass that had earlier filtered the late afternoon sun. Surely, they could have chosen a different image. One of hope rather than one of sorrow.
“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,” she muttered.
“Meow.” The tiny voice came from the door that Reggie was sure was closed a moment ago. “Meow!”
A sleek black cat arched its back then stared up at the vicar expectantly. It felt oddly as though the cat her saying, Well, here I am.
“Hello there, Miss Kitty, where did you come from? And more importantly, where should you be?”
“Meow. Meow meow.” The cat pawed at the wooden floor, as though testing it, then padded towards Reggie and wove in and out of her legs, purring as she went.
Reggie reached down and scratched the cat behind its ears then lifted it into her arms. “As adorable as you are, I’m sure you have a home and it’s time for all vicars and cats to find their beds.”
She carried the cat outside and placed it gently on the ground before turning to make her way to her own cottage.
“Meow.”
“And a good evening to you too,” Reggie replied, not looking back but waggling her fingers behind her at the cat.
But once she opened her door, the cat leapt through and sat on the hardwood floor, clearly daring Reggie to remove her.
“Really?” Reggie said. “You’re determined to do this?”
“Meow,” said the cat.
“Well, in for a penny and all that.” Reggie shut the door and went to find some tuna and milk.
***
The next morning, Reggie rose early with plans to practice her sermon for Sunday’s first service. Some churches offered services on other days through the week as well and she planned to do the same, but she’d ease that in more slowly. Nobody could blame an elderly vicar for hosting no more than one sermon on Sunday mornings, and quite late by the sounds of it. But Reggie would change all that.
Her faith might me lacking, but her work ethic was not.
“Are you there, God? It’s me Reggie,” she murmured, grasping her small cross. “Is it enough to bring people to you and offer a safe place to pray? Do I really need to believe it all? Am I just talking to myself?”
“Meow.” The cat stretched, arched its back, then slinked in a graceful circle in front of the door.
It was time to face the world.
She continued to ponder these thoughts as she opened her door, strolled towards the churchyard, then stopped.
She squinted, her mind not registering what she was seeing. Something hung from the ancient tree by the church door. Something in a white dress with limp blond curls hiding the face.
Then someone screamed.
Chapter Four
Reggie didn’t remember much after the initial shock. At some point, someone must have heard her scream and come running to investigate. She remembered random expletives, another scream, then the police arrived.
The next thing she remembered was a cup of tea being pushed into her hands and Detective Harry Thornton talking at her, his voice brisk and impatient. Then Sarah’s angry tone as she told the detective to give Reggie a moment.
“Don’t they train you in how to deal with shock at the academy!” Sarah was demanding just as Reggie started to tune in again.
To his credit, Harry did look shamefaced as he looked up at where Sarah was standing over Reggie like a protective mother hen.
“You’re right,” he said and didn’t seem to enjoy saying it at all. “Bring her to the station tomorrow morning. The whole thing looks pretty open and shut so I guess it doesn’t much matter.”
“Excuse me,” Reggie finally found her voice and apparently with it her temper. “Doesn’t matter? A girl was hanging from the church tree!”
Sarah sat down at her side and removed the cup from her trembling hands. “It’s okay, Vicar,” she said soothingly. “He didn’t mean it like that.” Though she did throw an angry look in Harry’s direction.
“I apologize,” Harry said and reached out to lay a hand over Reggie’s but pulled back at the last second. “That sounded colder than I intended. I only meant that your statement wasn’t urgent. It’s obvious the girl did — that — to herself. It was suicide.”
“Suicide?” Reggie blinked and shook her head. “No. No it couldn’t possibly be suicide. That was Elsa, Elsa Murphy.”
“Yes, it was,” Harry replied and cleared his throat, blinking quickly as though forcing back his own emotions. “It must have been quite shocking to find her like that.”
“No, well yes but…” Reggie tried to regain control of her racing thoughts. “She would never commit such a mortal sin. She was our Sunday school teacher.”
“I know it’s hard to understand,” he said with forced patience but sometimes people— “
“No, you don’t understand, she was happy when I saw her yesterday.”
Now both Sarah and Harry looked pained, but Reggie couldn’t let it go. If she could just get the words to come out right, they would understand what she was trying to say.
“Elsa was so happy. She said she’d been granted a miracle.”
Harry didn’t look any more convinced.
“Elsa came to the church to say a prayer of thanks, because she was pregnant.” Reggie laughed as she said it because of course this whole thing was ridiculous. Elsa wasn’t dead, and she definitely didn’t commit suicide!
But if anything, Harry looked even more sad as he stared back at Reggie. Directing his words to Sarah he said, “I’ll call Dr. Manning, so he can administer a sedative. Can you stay with her today?”
“I’m right here and I’m not crazy or in need of medication!” Reggie snapped. “I am trying to tell you that Elsa was pregnant!”
“I believe you,” Harry said, his voice cracking slightly. “But I was led to believe that you came from an inner-city parish?”
“That’s right.”
“Then you should know that her being pregnant may have been her reason for doing what she did.”
Both Reggie and Sarah gasped.
How could he say such a horrid thing?
“You might be technically correct, Detective, but not in this case,” Reggie said, surer of this than she’d ever been about anything in a long time. “I know I’ve only just arrived and didn’t really know Elsa at all before, but I know the woman I spoke with last night was not suicidal. She wasn’t some scared teenager or victim of abuse, she was a woman who was proud and joyous to be pregnant.”
Harry sighed and stood, clearly preparing to leave.
Reggie jumped to her feet with him. And she could hear her voice rising but could do nothing to stop it. “You don’t believe me! Listen to me, Detective, it is your job to investigate. Somebody did that to her! She was murdered!”
“Do not tell me how to do my job!” Harry yelled back and for a moment the two stood nose to nose glaring at each other.
It was Sarah who interrupted with a hand on Reggie’s arm. “Come on, Vicar. Nothing will be solved with the two of you yelling at each other, will it? Let Harry do his job, so we can
do ours.” When Reggie seemed to soften slightly, Sarah continued quickly. “A lot of people cared about Elsa and they’ll be needing someone to give them solace.”
Reggie risked a look at her verger. She could already feel her temper waning and knew that Sarah was right. Times like these were the reason the calling to the church was such a difficult one.
“And perhaps,” Sarah added to Harry, “The good detective could give it a day or so before closing the case. It’s not like we’re so overrun with crime we can’t take a few hours to look closer.”
Harry frowned but finally nodded. “Come into the station tomorrow morning and give your statement,” he said to Reggie as he headed for the door.
“Oh, I’ll be there,” Reggie replied.
Harry sighed and for a moment looked like he might need to add something else, so he could have the last word. But the adult in him was just strong enough to squelch the need to win this tiny battle.
“Well that was intense,” Sarah said gently easing Reggie back into her seat. “For a moment there I thought the two of you might come to blows!”
Reggie managed a smile as the cup of tea was once again pressed into her hands. “I’m not sure the detective and I will ever be friendly. But, Sarah, you believe me, don’t you?”
Sarah looked a little like a doe in headlights, but she sat and picked up her own tea before saying, “I believe you, Vicar. But I don’t want to lie, you are new here and only really met Elsa for a moment. How could you be sure?”
She was right. Reggie felt a little stung but she always preferred honesty to polite lies even if they hurt her feelings.
“I guess I can’t be sure.” Reggie frowned. “I can’t explain it, I just feel it. I’m sure if you’d been there when she came to the church you’d understand.”
Sarah smiled and placed a hand over Reggie’s. “I’m sure I would, Vicar, but you must understand why that would be worse?”
Reggie blinked.
“That would mean that someone else did that to her,” Sarah said slowly as though explaining to a child. “This is a small village. If someone murdered Elsa, it was someone we knew, someone we grew up with, maybe were friends with our whole lives.”
The reality of the situation slapped Reggie hard in the face.
How could she be so dense? So insensitive? This wasn’t the city any more. This was a small town, where everyone knew everyone, where everyone was family, and now one of them might be a killer.
Chapter Five
Sarah managed to coax the still trembling vicar to drink a second cup of sweet tea then upstairs to take a nap. Reggie, who was an adult, didn’t need a nap, but when she lay on her comfy bed with the verger chatting about soothing things nearby, she soon slipped into dreamless sleep.
She would need the rest for what was to come.
That afternoon they set up tables and tea and biscuits in the church hall, and well into the evening parishioners arrived to get the news and share their sorrow.
Everyone was shocked, several checked multiple times if perhaps the Vicar had mistaken Elsa for another girl or in one case a large hanging branch. There were angry mutterings from a small circle of older residents and a few stern looks in Reggie’s direction as though, she as the newcomer had brought this tragedy with her from the city.
Reggie lost count of how many times she retold her story. Of course, she had the good sense to leave out her suspicions or the part where Elsa told her she was pregnant. Somehow, the pregnancy felt like something much more personal, Elsa’s news to share or keep private and simply because she shared it with the vicar, didn’t mean she intended to share it with everyone.
Besides, that extra part would only bring more pain to the already mourning community. If it came out later, so be it, but it wouldn’t be from Reggie.
Each small grouping of people had stories to tell about Elsa. Funny memories, kindnesses she’d shown, mischief she’d found. This was why Reggie had requested a small village parish. These people genuinely cared about one another. This wasn’t the faceless mass of strangers, some slightly more familiar than others who occasionally attended the inner-city services, this was a family.
Still, Reggie couldn’t help feeling distanced from them, which she supposed wasn’t surprising considering she’d only been in town for a couple of days.
Was one of these people capable of murder? Was she wrong about Elsa? Detective Thornton had a point, she really didn’t know the girl at all. Wasn’t there a kind of depression that made you blissfully happy one moment then darkly unhappy the next?
She fisted her hands and frowned. She really hated not knowing things. Her brother had often nicknamed her Nosy-pants because she could never let anything go, she had to have all the answers even if that meant spying or eavesdropping. Of course, she was only ten at the time and had completely outgrown such impulses.
“She was always so patient with the children,” someone was saying at a table nearby. “But in the end, she was her mother’s daughter, I suppose.”
“Come now, Wendy,” a softly spoken man replied. “I don’t think that’s quite fair.”
“You know I loved her, Lewis, but you must have heard the rumors about her and that teacher and,” her voice lowered to a whisper, but Reggie just made out the words, “Marcus Blackwell.”
“Wendy!” The man returned in a stern whisper. “You should know better than to follow lurid gossip.”
“But, Lewis,” Wendy said. “Judy at the Pharmacy said she saw her buying a __ “
“Oh, Vicar!” A voice called, making Reggie jump guiltily.
She turned to see Summer bounding towards her, face streaked with tears and a hand over her mouth as she sobbed.
Reggie instinctively opened her arms to the girl who rushed to hug her and for a long time she held Summer as the girl sobbed against her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, Vicar,” Summer managed to say as she pulled away then accepted the offered tissue. “I didn’t mean to just ambush you like that.”
“Nonsense,” Reggie waved off the comment. “I’m here to be ambushed.”
Summer laughed then sniffed again, dabbing delicately at her eyes. “Oh, Vicar, I can’t imagine how horrible it must have been for you, finding her the way you did. And on your first day and everything.”
Reggie chuckled, giving the girl’s arm a squeeze. “You’re a sweet girl and I’m sure a wonderful friend. She was lucky to have you.”
Summer laughed, this time it was a bitter sound. “If I was really her friend I could have__ “
“No!” Reggie grasped the girl’s hands. “No, you mustn’t think like that. What happened wasn’t your fault.” It was on the tip of her tongue to tell Summer of her suspicions, but now wasn’t the time.
“It feels like it was,” Summer replied, twin tears slipping down her cheeks, lips and chin crumpling as another wave of sorrow took hold.
“Oh, my dear,” Reggie soothed. “Come and sit. Let me fetch you some tea. Is John here too?”
At that Summer frowned, crossing her arms, but lightened slightly when Reggie played a cup of hot tea and a couple of cream-filled biscuits down in front of her.
“He’s not even picking up his phone or answering his door!” Summer huffed. “I was her friend too!”
Reggie nodded and made sympathetic sounds, pressing the tea into Summer’s hands, much as Sarah had done for the vicar just hours earlier.
“I guess we all handle sorrow in our own ways. Some of us shut ourselves away and some of us seek solace in others.” Reggie pushed the plate of biscuits closer, smiling when Summer took one. “Let’s give him the night then we’ll pay him a visit in the morning.”
Summer looked a little relieved at this and nodded in agreement.
“Do you have any idea — why?” Reggie asked tentatively. “I didn’t really know her, but she didn’t seem…”
“She wasn’t!” Summer exclaimed. “I mean it wasn’t like she was happy every second of the day, but she was nev
er depressed, or if she was, she never confided in me.” Her brow furrowed again, and Reggie suspected that the girl’s sorrow was laced with a little resentment and hurt.
“Sharing is even harder with the people we love.” She tapped her head and chuckled. “Sometimes our minds aren’t very fun places to be.”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“Summer, can I ask you a question?” Reggie waited for the girls nod before continuing. “Do you know who Elsa was__ “
“Reverend, a word if you please.” Alison Wilcox interrupted, her tone making it clear that she would not be kept waiting.
“Of course, Ms. Wilcox,” Reggie replied then gave Summer an apologetic smile and a comforting arm squeeze before following the dower woman into the quiet prayer room.
Once inside, Reggie immediately began to speak. “Alison, I’m so sorry. This must have been such a shock for you, if you need anything you know I’m always __ “
“That’s quite enough of that, and it’s Ms. Wilcox if you please.”
“Of course,” Reggie replied, assuming that the woman’s briskness was simply her way.
“I must say, Reverend, that you certainly know how to make an entrance,” Ms. Wilcox began. “Not two days and we already have one of our young ladies, and a Sunday school teacher no less, committing a mortal sin in taking her own life!”
Reggie felt her face flush hot and something burned behind her eyes. It was all she could do to stand completely still and continue to breath calmly.
“Ms. Wilcox, what happened to Elsa was a terrible tragedy and I’m sure we are all in shock, but I hardly think __ “
The woman made a swishing sound and swiped down with her hand, silencing the vicar as though she were hushing a whining child!
“And worse, now I hear that you are demanding that it wasn’t suicide at all but in fact murder! Here not two days and already you are accusing us of vile crimes. Why we haven’t had a murder in Patchwork Hill in over a decade.”
“Ms. Wilcox, please,” Reggie replied. “I haven’t accused anyone of anything. I simply asked your police officer to do his job and look into the matter more closely.”
Immaculate Deception Page 3