Immaculate Deception

by Hannah Weston Price

  Damn that woman! Even from beyond the grave she was making his life impossible. It was hard enough being a respected politician, let alone in this day and age of social media and trial by facebook. He didn’t need her death dragging up all his bloody secrets.

  A sharp pain shot through his fingers, up to his chest and he moaned, his hand pressing to his lips to silence his soul shuddering sobs.

  Why had Elsa Murphy lied to him? Had she simply been playing with his affections? Had it been a test? If it had been, he’d failed, and Marcus never failed.

  Now that damned detective was going to dig up all the things Marcus had worked so hard to bury. All the old hurts, old humiliations.

  He heard the door to the manor house open and looked up to see Vivian standing in the doorway, waiting for him. Now there was the perfect wife. She was beautiful, poised, and knew her place in his life.

  “Hello, darling,” she said as he approached.

  “What are you doing here?” He snapped, walking past.

  To her credit she only flinched slightly, and her smile stayed fixed in place.

  “I came to see you, silly.” She punctuated that with an almost childish giggle. “I know you and Elsa weren’t close but…”

  He let out a long sigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “But, Marcus, I can see it’s … “

  “We were together for a blink of an eye, years ago and she was a lying bi—" The sound of Vivian’s gasp made him stop sharply. Damn, he needed to get himself under control or everything he’d worked so hard to create would fall around his ears.

  “I’m sorry,” he murmured and pulled his fiancé into his arms, placing a kiss upon her soft forehead. “You’re right, I’m just cranky about everything. Her death has reminded me of just how fragile we all are.” He smiled as he rested his mouth by her ear. “I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you like that.”

  “Oh, Marcus!” Vivian threw her arms around him and hugged tight, completely oblivious to the way he rolled his eyes at just how easy she was to manipulate. “I promise, you’ll never lose me.”

  “I know, darling,” he murmured, unable to shake the smug smile as he pressed another kiss to her temple and led her up to the bedroom.

  If only everything could be so easy. But that was fine, he could clean up the mess that stupid girl had made, the way he always took care of everything. By the time he was done he might even come out looking like a hero.

  “Oh, by the way,” Vivian said as she let him kiss a trail across her cheek, down her throat. “That Vicar was asking about Elsa’s boyfriends.”

  His jaw clenched. First the detective, now a nosy vicar?

  “Ouch! Darling you’re hurting me.”

  He immediately loosened his grip and soothed the sore spots with his lips. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “Did you say anything?”

  “No, of course not. But why would it matter? After all, you said it was over two years ago.”

  He didn’t like the questioning tone in her voice but let it go. She would never understand how hard it was to be a man constantly in the public eye and always under scrutiny by everyone.

  “You know how private I am,” he replied. “And you also know how the media like to grasp at even the slightest hint of a story.”

  He could just imagine the headline:

  Marcus Blackwell in Sunday School Suicide Scandal

  He needed to show this vicar that he could be a very dangerous enemy.

  Chapter Ten

  “Am I speaking to the parish vicar?” A clipped male voice said through the phone as Reggie laid down a fresh bowl of cat food, frowning at the way the cat sniffed at it only to throw her an utterly disgusted look.

  “Yes, I’m Reverend Regina Watson, how can I help?” She replied turning away from the ungrateful beast. Did it appreciate how long she’d spent comparing the many brands to pick one she’d like?

  “I’m Charles Murphy. I was Meredith Murphy’s brother. I recently received the news that her daughter passed away.”

  The complete lack of emotion in his voice and the way he referred to Elsa as his sister’s daughter rather than his niece made something silent and cool settle in Reggie’s stomach.

  “I know they were having a hard time finding a next of kin. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

  He grunted. “Reverend, I haven’t seen my sister in over two decades and never knew her daughter.”

  Reggie opened her mouth then shut it again. What does one say to that? “How can I help you, Mr. Murphy?”

  His line went quiet for a moment before he said. “The truth is that this has all happened at a rather inconvenient time. I’m right in the middle of several crucial business dealings and won’t be able to get down there for at least a month or more.”

  There was a sound like shuffling paper and some muffled talking before he continued.

  “I’ve made arrangements for my solicitor to oversee the selling of her estate and other affairs, but I thought perhaps someone from the village should make the funeral arrangements.” He made a little tittering sound. “Who better and more trustworthy than the parish priest?”

  It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she had only just arrived and really didn’t know Elsa at all.

  “There’s some money,” he said quickly, before Reggie could say anything. “Both Meredith and her daughter had funeral insurance, so I’ll go ahead and forward the complete sum to you. If there’s anything left over, feel free to accept it as a donation to the church.” He did that little tittery sound again.

  There were so many things Reggie wanted to say. Part of her wanted to tell him exactly where he could stick the money. But this wasn’t about her or him.

  “Elsa was a sweet and loving young woman. It would be my honor to take over the funeral arrangements.”

  This time his pause was even longer, and Reggie realized that neither of them had said Elsa’s name until this moment.

  Finally, he said, “Thank you.” And the call ended as briskly as it began.

  But while Charles may have simply shaken off the conversation, possibly relieved to be free of the burden, Reggie stood in the kitchen, staring at her phone for a long time. Finally, she placed it down, walked to her small living room, and took a seat.

  Reggie had heard about and even met her share of genuinely bad people. People who enjoyed causing pain some who simply reveled in their power over others. But this complete lack of emotion was somehow worse. She tried to imagine how she would feel if a relative she’d never met died. She supposed perhaps she’d feel much the same.

  But it made her sad. Reggie admitted that she really didn’t know anyone in the village yet, but Elsa had seemed like a very sweet young woman who worked hard to both help the people of the village and be liked by them. But in the end, she was all alone.

  “Meow.” The cat jumped up on the seat beside her and pressed his head against Reggie’s arm till she lifted it, so the cat could settle on her lap.

  Reggie couldn’t help smiling. “You’re very bossy.”

  The cat settled and began purring contentedly as her slave scratched behind her ears and gently ran her hand over the cat’s back.

  ***

  Elsewhere, Charlotte Manning covered her mouth with a hand to muffle a moan of horror. She shook her head and felt her legs give way, making her drop to the sofa.

  Her husband, James, his face a mask of concern, crouched down beside her and took her hands. “Dearest, what is this? I thought the news would bring you comfort. Surely it’s better than...”

  “Oh, James,” Charlotte sobbed. “How could you not tell me this before?”

  “You know I can’t break patient confidentiality, even with my wife. I shouldn’t have said anything now, but I didn’t think it would matter since...” Dr. Manning couldn’t say the words. Not yet. “Well, I could see how much all this was hurting you. But surely one death is better than two.”

  Charlotte’s sobbing beca
me a wail and she gripped her stomach as her entire body crumpled. “There shouldn’t have even been that! Oh, if I’d only known.”

  “Known what?” James felt something sick settle in the pit of his stomach. “Charlotte what is going on?”

  “James — I’ve done something terrible.”

  ***

  “Regina!” The voice spoke directly into her ear and her eyes popped open to find herself alone in her dark bedroom.

  She looked about, moving only her eyes but even in the dark she could feel that she was alone. Had it been a dream? What kind of dream said your name in your ear with a voice so familiar yet impossible, loud enough to jar you from sleep?

  A dream that wanted to wake you up.

  That was a strange and unsettling thought. It made Reggie frown and pull her blanket up a little higher as the little hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention.

  Her feet felt comfortably warm and a quick look showed that the cat had left its bed to settle on hers. The little green numbers on the clock showed that it was just past midnight.

  Everything was quiet. No loud wind or rain that might have woken her, she supposed some manner of critter might have scuttled over the roof. The parsonage was still new, and she hadn’t quite accustomed to the normal settling sounds.

  Her heart was beating erratically in her chest and the unexplained panic made her lay very still. She knew it was ridiculous. This wasn’t the city any more, Patchwork Hill was a small village. Things like break-ins and murders were nearly non-existent here.

  And yet a girl may have been murdered just days ago now, not far from where she was laying right now.

  It was suddenly hard to swallow, hard to breath.

  It was in that still silence that she heard the crunch of a footfall on the grass outside her window.

  Before she could think, Reggie rolled out of bed and sprinted to the window, whipping open the curtains, determined to face whoever was skulking about red handed. In her newfound courage she even let out a little battle cry as she shoved the curtains aside and glared out the window.

  Nothing. Even though it was midnight she could make out the grass and a tree by moonlight but couldn’t see anyone. If there had been someone walking on the grass outside, would she really have been able to hear it anyway? Wasn’t it more likely that she imagined it?

  The cat stood and arched her back in a long stretch but otherwise didn’t seem annoyed to be woken in the night.

  “Well it looks like we’re up,” Reggie said, mainly to fill the quiet. “How about a cup of tea and a saucer of milk?”

  “Meow,” she replied and jumped down from the bed to lead the way to the kitchen.

  But downstairs the feeling of unease returned. She felt that crawly feeling on her back like she was being watched. A look around confirmed that curtains covered all her windows and after turning on all the lights she was sure nobody was in the house.

  “I’m being crazy,” she muttered then looked at the cat. “Am I being crazy?”

  She looked up at her as if to say, “Well, you’re talking to a cat so…”

  Reggie made a face at her and pulled out the milk to give her a little while the kettle boiled.

  “You know,” she added. “It’s been a pretty stressful few days. I think I’m allowed to be a little antsy.”

  Somewhere in the distance she heard a car start. Who would be out driving at this time of night? That was when she noticed the sheet of white paper, folded in half and laying on the mat in front of the mail slot.

  She had a familiar feeling before she even unfolded the note. After all she’d read her share of mysteries and seen plenty of movies.

  You’re new and seem like a clever girl.

  Just do your job. Say your prayers.

  And mind your own business.

  Chapter Eleven

  The letter continued to burn in her pocket later that morning as she and Sarah prepared for her first Sunday Service. Had she really only been in town a few days? It felt like weeks.

  She should call Detective Thornton and tell him about the letter. It could be a genuine threat. But what if it was nothing, just some kids playing a joke. The detective already thought she was a nuisance and it wasn’t like she was some damsel in need of protection.

  “I can hear you thinking from here, Vicar,” Sarah said. “I expect you’re nervous. First sermon in a new village, and all.”

  “I am a bit.” Reggie frowned at her reflection and straightened her collar. “I wish I could start on a happier note.”

  “Well, you know what they say?” Sarah handed Reggie her glasses. “If wishes were fishes, we’d all drown trying to catch them.”

  “That,” Reggie said, smothering a laugh. “Is not what they say.”

  “It’s what I say.”

  Reggie peeked out to see a full house and barely managed to muffle her nervous peep.

  “There are a lot of people out there.” She turned back to Sarah. “Is that normal.”

  “It’s to be expected.” Sarah shrugged and did a palms-up gesture. “With a recent and quite disturbing death, a new vicar, and our first lady vicar to boot. I’m surprised there aren’t people sitting in the aisles.”

  “There’s been lady vicars since the nineties. It can’t be that shocking.”

  “To be fair, half the people out there have been retired since the nineties too.”

  “I thought you were supposed to be helping me?”

  Sarah laughed and added a hug for good measure. “You’re going to be fine.”

  “And you’re sure you don’t mind the extra readings?”

  “Will you just get out there!”

  Reggie got out there.

  Sucking in a breath and sending a silent prayer for forgiveness if she totally ballsed up, she pulled aside the curtain and stepped out onto the little stage to a polite smattering of applause. Next, Sarah stepped out and situated herself before the enormous bible at the Lectern and flashed a nervous smile.

  “I’m so pleased to see so many faces this morning. I was nervous last night, I could barely sleep a wink. So, you must be patient with me if I accidentally call them Hers instead of Hymns.”

  That earned her a nervous titter of laughter but also a very unamused expression from Headmistress Wilcox, so Reggie continued quickly, leading the congregations into the first hymn, God Has Forgiven All My Sins.

  After the song Reggie and Sarah began their slightly altered sermon. And for the first time in a long time, Reggie felt as though her sermon was poignant and necessary.

  She’d spent a long time in the early hours wondering about how to approach the issue of gossip within Patchwork hill. She knew gossip was rife in all small towns, and this one was no exception. But what she’d seen here, regarding Elsa was truly an example of the damage such loose talk could cause.

  She didn’t want her first sermon to be a lecture or to make anyone feel as though they were responsible for what happened. But she knew a teachable moment when she saw one.

  After a quick few words, she nodded to Sarah, who read the first lesson. A single verse on the dangers of gossip. Starting at Leviticus 19:16, Sarah read a verse then after a moment of silence, Reggie began her sermon. Sarah moved on to James 4:11 and it continued like that. Sarah would read a chosen verse and Reggie would sermonize about it. The hope was that a back and forth between Sarah and the Vicar would be more engaging than a lecture.

  By the end there were several downturned eyes, but none held resentment. In fact, some of the older parishioners were nodding their approval.

  “See,” Reggie said, smiling up at the sun beam shining through the window behind her. “I told you I wouldn’t embarrass you or tell that naughty story about you turning water into wine.”

  That earned her a few more laughs and she felt the tension crack slightly and quickly launched them into another hymn.

  Finally, she completed her sermon with words of forgiveness. Luckily Jesus had plenty of wisdom in that rega
rd, both forgiving enemies, neighbors, and even forgiving the self.

  By the time she was finished there wasn’t a dry eye in the audience and most were smiling. Reggie looked over at Sarah, who gave her a subtle thumbs up.

  “I know you’re all eager to go enjoy your Sunday, but I wanted to let you know that Elsa’s uncle is detained and has asked that I handle the funeral arrangements.” This was met with some mild murmuring. “I know that I’m the newcomer though so if anyone would like to lend a hand or has any stories they’d like to share, you can come and see me any time. Also, if anyone would simply like to talk, about the loss, or anything really, I’m available to you, twenty-four-seven. It’s my absolute privilege to be at your service.”

  At the door, as the congregation filed out, Reggie shook so many hands her fingers ached. But at the same time, something warm swelled in her chest. The overwhelming response from the parishioners was that they were so glad they’d come, and there was a lightness and genuine relief in several expressions.

  Dr. and Mrs. Manning were almost the last to leave. But while Dr. Manning merely shook her hand and complimented her on her first sermon, Mrs. Manning gripped both Reggie’s hands and brought them to her lips.

  “I knew you would be good for this village,” Charlotte Manning said, her eyes slightly red. “Thank you.” And with that they were gone.

  “That was odd,” Sarah said.

  “These last few days have been tough on everyone, I guess.” Reggie shook hands with the last couple of people, accepting their praise and wishing them a joyous day.

  Of course, Summer came forward, asking to be a part of the funeral service, much to Reggie’s relief. It didn’t feel right to organize a funeral without at least some input from Elsa’s friends.

  “Reverend Watson,” said an authoritative voice from just inside the doors. “I’ll have a word, if you don’t mind.”

  Reggie stifled a groan. She doubted the headmistress would care one jot if she did mind.

  Once again, Reggie followed the older woman into the quiet prayer area.

  “How can I help you Miss — Ms. Wilcox?”