by Glen Ebisch
“That’s how it ended.”
“Give me a break. You know that with my nonexistent love life I have to live vicariously through you, and this is all I get.”
“If you want more, maybe you should go out and get a boyfriend of your own.”
“I may have to do that, as much as I’m not too keen on the idea. You’re really letting me down. I didn’t think you were so shy about things.”
“You have to be discreet when you’re a minister. People pay a lot of attention to what should be your private life.”
“Yeah, but you’re a minister, not a nun. You’re allowed to have sex.”
“Some members of the congregation would insist that should only happen after marriage, if then.”
“But you don’t believe that.”
“No, but I do believe in being circumspect. And remember my last two relationships were quite the topic of public discussion. I don’t want a repeat of that.”
“Then get a motel room out of town.”
Clarissa shook her head slowly. “There’s more to it than that. In the last three months or so, I’ve broken up with my fiancé and a boyfriend I went out with for a while. I’m not in the mood to rush into another serious relationship.”
“How about a relationship based on casual sex?” asked Ashley with a wink.
“I’ve never been much for that. In my mind sex is linked to having serious feelings for someone.”
“And you’re not sure whether you have those feelings for Rudinski?”
“I’m not sure. Given the way my last two relationships ended, I guess I’ve lost confidence in my own feelings. I want to be doubly sure it’ll work out before I get involved with someone again.”
“I guess I can understand that, but Rudinski isn’t going to wait around forever. He’s a pretty attractive guy for a cop, and in a small town like this, there’s a lot of competition for eligible bachelors. If I were you, I’d rope him in while I had my lasso around him.”
Clarissa smiled. “I wasn’t aware of how familiar you are with rodeo terminology.”
“Men and cattle have always seemed a lot alike to me.”
“Maybe that’s why you don’t have a boyfriend,” Clarissa said, smiling to take the edge off the remark.
Ashley stuck out her tongue. “I don’t have a boyfriend because I’m not willing to give up my Goth dress to impress some conventional guy. I’m choosy.”
“Nothing wrong with that. You’re choosy and I’m careful.”
“Yeah, that’s why we’ll both end up alone.”
“Anyway, it’s dangerous to be intimate with someone you don’t share a bubble with as long as the pandemic is raging.”
“You could wear your masks when you do it.” Ashley’s eyes glinted mischievously. “In fact, it might add a touch of excitement to the experience.”
Clarissa shook her head. “I’ll be in my office working on next week’s sermon. If anyone calls, put it through.”
Ashley nodded absentmindedly and returned to working on the computer.
A large mahogany desk dominated Clarissa’s office. It was an inheritance from the last pastor, who had a penchant for polished wood. The walls and all the furniture reflected his taste. Although Clarissa had at first disliked the excessively masculine feel of the room, she’d gradually come to accept it, even enjoying the soothing effect of being surrounded by the dark wood. She would never have spent the church’s money on such an expensive redecorating effort, but since it preceded her, she chose to enjoy it without guilt.
Clarissa began to take notes on her sermon for the next Sunday, which was going to be on the topic of finding a sense of community in difficult times. She decided to begin with a discussion of the family, expand to a consideration of friends and acquaintances, and conclude with a discussion of the church community. She’d been working for three hours when her phone rang.
“Brenda Fisher is on the line, and she sounds upset.”
“Put her through,” Clarissa said. The only thing she could imagine Brenda contacting her about was the house she was selling for the church. Clarissa hoped that disaster hadn’t struck in the form of the house burning down.
“Sorry to bother you,” Brenda said when Clarissa came on the line. “I just didn’t know who else to call.”
“What’s happened?”
“You know that I handle a lot of rental units?”
“Sure.”
“Well, I had one that rented for a few days at the end of last week. The person renting it was supposed to return the key today, but she never did. So I went to the unit this morning to see if she might have left it in the condo she rented.”
There was a long pause. Clarissa could hear her gasping for breath and waited for her to go on. “And what happened?” she finally asked.
There was a choked sob. “She was dead. Someone had murdered her. There was blood all over the place. I don’t know what I’ll tell the owners. The cleaning bill will be astronomical.”
Clarissa paused to consider how people under stress frequently focused on the nonessentials. She wanted to know more, but this wasn’t the time to grill Brenda for specifics.
“Have you called the police?”
“Oh, yes. As soon as I saw the body, I went outside and called them. I couldn’t stay in there. It was horrible. I just don’t know . . . ”
“Have the police arrived?”
“They just left.”
“What did the police say?” asked Clarissa, trying to keep Brenda on point.
“A detective took a statement from me, and made an appointment for me to come in this afternoon to answer some questions. I have to bring in the rental information I have for the woman who was killed. That’s why I called; I was hoping that you could come with me. I know you’ve worked with the police in the past, so they know you. I thought that maybe you could sort of vouch for me.”
“Of course, but surely they don’t think you had anything to do with the murder.”
“Who knows,” Brenda exclaimed. “I knew she lived there. Who else in town was even aware that she was in Shore Side? I had a key to the condo. The police might be looking to come up with a quick solution to the murder, and I look guilty. They could easily frame me for it.”
“I think that happens more on television than in the real world,” Clarissa said, although she admitted to herself that she might have been equally worried if she were in Brenda’s position. “You didn’t have any motive for killing this woman, did you?”
“Of course not. I never set eyes on her before she rented the condo.”
“Then I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”
“But you’ll come with me, won’t you?” Brenda pleaded.
“Certainly, I will. What time are you scheduled to go to the police station?”
“Two o’clock this afternoon.”
“Fine. I’ll meet you out in front of the town hall. I know it’s hard, but try not to get too upset about all this. I’m sure you’ll be fine.”
“I . . . I just can’t stop seeing her there on the floor in a pool of blood. I don’t think I’ll ever forget it.”
“It will fade with time,” Clarissa said, thinking about some of the things she’d seen in last few months and wondering if she was telling the truth.
“I hope so. So I’ll see you at two?”
“Definitely.”
“Thanks, Clarissa.”
“Don’t mention it, and don’t worry, we’ll get through this together.”
Clarissa went out to the main office where Ashley was staring at the computer.
“Brenda just found a dead women in one of her rentals. It appears that the person was murdered.”
Ashley looked up with a blank expression while her mind processed what she had just heard, and then her eyes opened wide.
“Are you kidding me?”
Clarissa shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”
“How was she murdered?”
“Bren
da didn’t say, and I didn’t want to ask. She seemed pretty upset. She said there was a lot of blood.”
“Maybe the police didn’t tell her exactly what happened. They might see her as a suspect.”
“That’s what Brenda is worried about.”
“What are you going to do?” Ashley asked, eying her carefully.
“Brenda has an appointment with the police this afternoon to give a statement. She wants me to go with her.”
“She’d be better off taking along a lawyer, so the police don’t railroad her.”
Clarissa shook her head. “I really don’t see Lieutenant Baker and Sergeant Rudinski doing that.”
Ashley glared at her, which in her Goth attire made her look like an angry witch.
“Just because you’re sweet on Rudinski doesn’t mean that he won’t go along with his boss and arrest the first suspect they come across.”
“You know Lieutenant Baker. Do you really think he’s like that?”
Ashley paused. “Well, maybe not, but Brenda still should have a lawyer along to protect her rights.”
Clarissa gave that some thought. “You have a point. If I don’t like the way the interview is going, I’ll tell Brenda to keep quiet until she gets legal representation. I don’t think Lieutenant Baker would ignore me if I advised Brenda to wait for a lawyer.”
Ashley nodded. “Since he’s a member of the congregation and you’ve helped him a lot in the past on a couple of other cases, I guess he’d take what you say seriously.”
“I hope so, but ultimately he’s the one in charge.” Clarissa stood up and headed toward her office. “I hope I can get back to concentrating on my sermon.”
“What’s it going to be about?”
“Community.”
“I guess somebody out there didn’t have much of a sense of community if he or she killed someone.”
Clarissa nodded. “Murder is the ultimate attack on community.”
Chapter 4
Clarissa stood out in front of the town hall waiting for Brenda. She enjoyed the feel of the warm late September sunshine on her face and took several deep breaths of the salt air. She wondered how she felt about getting involved in yet another police case. Just like the last two times, she hadn’t chosen to investigate a crime, but her relationships with those involved had drawn her into the situation. It appeared that this was going to happen one more time.
She saw Brenda walking down the street and quickly put on her mask. When Brenda was three feet away, Clarissa could see by the smudges under her eyes that she’d been crying. Clarissa wanted to hug her and comfort her, but she stopped short of doing so and with a quick gesture directed Brenda not to come any closer.
“I think we should maintain a safe social distance. The last thing either one of us needs right now is to get sick.”
Brenda nodded, but appeared disappointed. She glanced at her watch. “I guess it’s time for us to go in anyway.”
They went into the brick building behind them, and Clarissa led the way to the police department. They entered a long room divided in half by a counter. A young uniformed officer stood behind the counter and asked how he could help them. Brenda introduced herself and said she had an appointment with Lieutenant Baker. The officer nodded and glanced quizzically at Clarissa.
“I’m Pastor Clarissa Abbot, and I’d like to accompany Ms. Fisher during her interview.”
“Are you her lawyer?” the officer asked.
Clarissa shook her head. “I’m her minister.”
He looked a bit perplexed. “I’ll have to ask Lieutenant Baker if that’s okay.”
“Lieutenant Baker knows me. I think he’ll agree.”
The young officer nodded and left through a door on the far side of the room, and they sat down on a hard wooden bench.
“What was the name of the woman staying in the condo?” asked Clarissa.
“Karla Evanston.”
“Do you know where she was from?”
“The northern part of the state, the city of Montclair.”
The officer returned and held the door open.
“You can come in now.” He paused. “Both of you.”
He led them down a hall to an interview room and told them to have a seat and someone would be with them shortly. Clarissa and Brenda sat down on the same side of the table, but stayed several feet apart.
“I feel like a criminal being in a room like this. It’s like they’re going to interrogate me,” said Brenda.
“You didn’t do anything wrong, so you don’t have to worry. The police just want to get to the bottom of what happened.”
The door opened and Lieutenant Baker and Sergeant Rudinski entered. They sat on the opposite side of the table from the women. Rudinski gave Clarissa an almost imperceptible nod.
“Thank you for coming in,” said Lieutenant Baker. “I understand, Pastor Abbot, that you and Ms. Fisher are friends.”
“She’s a member of my congregation. I’m surprised you’ve never seen her at church,” she said, pointedly reminding Baker that he was a member of the church as well.
Baker shrugged. “Can’t know everyone.” He turned to Brenda. “I just wanted to find out, Ms. Fisher, if you’ve remembered anything more than you mentioned at the scene of the crime.”
She shook her head. “When I saw the body and all that blood, I just blanked out. I don’t think I saw anything else.”
Baker ran a hand over his gray crew cut. “I understand. And you said that Ms. Evanston never told you why she was here in Shore Side.”
“She only said that she was down for a little vacation. We really didn’t talk much. She seemed in a hurry to get her key and go to the condo.”
“How long had she rented it for?”
“From last Friday night until Monday morning.”
“You didn’t have any contact with her after Friday? She didn’t call you, perhaps to ask about any problems?”
“I didn’t hear a word from her after she came and got the key.”
“And she was supposed to return the key to you this morning?” asked Rudinski.
“That’s right. I was in the office by nine. But tenants can slip the key through the mail slot in the door if they leave town before I get there.”
“And when did you decide to find out what had happened?” asked Baker.
“She was supposed to be out of the condo by eleven, so when I hadn’t gotten the key by then I decided to check up on her. Renters sometimes forget to drop off the key. Some leave it on the counter in the condo. Some even get all the way home and then find it in their pocket. It’s my job to see that they send it back. You can’t have a lot of keys floating around, that’s bad for security.”
“Was the door to the condo open when you got there?” asked Baker.
Brenda frowned over her mask. “Not open, but it may have been unlocked. I rang the bell several times and no one answered. So I put my key in the lock, but I think it was already open. Then I went inside and . . . ”
“How did Ms. Evanston die?” Clarissa asked.
The Lieutenant paused. “She was stabbed to death,” he finally answered.
“Was she stabbed once or several times?”
“Several times.”
“So the killer was emotional?”
“Or wanted it to appear that way.”
“Was she sexually assaulted?”
“It doesn’t look that way, but we’re waiting on the findings of the autopsy.”
“Did you find the murder weapon?”
Lieutenant Baker sighed, as if he didn’t enjoy being the one to answer questions. Clarissa suspected that Rudinski might be smiling under his mask. “No,” Baker said, “but a knife from a carving set on the kitchen counter is missing.”
“Do you have an estimated time of death?”
“The coroner thinks it was around midnight Sunday night.”
“Did you find Karla’s computer or cell phone?”
He shook his head. “Of cours
e, we wouldn’t if it was a robbery gone wrong.”
“When did someone last stay in that condo before Evanston?” the Lieutenant asked Brenda, attempting to get back in control of the interview.
“I checked the records,” Brenda replied. “It was the last week of August. So almost a month ago.”
“And you said that Ms. Evanston didn’t mention having any family or friends in Shore Side?”
Brenda shook her head.
“Did she have any family?” Clarissa asked.
Lieutenant Baker paused as if deciding whether to answer. “She had two sisters up in northern New Jersey and parents in Florida. There’s also an estranged husband.”
“Do they know why she was down here?” asked Clarissa.
“I spoke with the sisters. They claim they didn’t even know she was here,” Rudinski replied. “They’ll be coming down tomorrow, so we’ll have a chance to interview them.”
“It seems that finding out why Karla drove three hours down to Shore Side might help you to find out why she was killed,” Clarissa said.
“So far that’s easier said than done, since no one knows where she went or what she did while she was here,” Baker said. “We’re going to put her picture in the paper and hope someone will come forward who saw her between Friday and Sunday night.”
“So she was married?’ asked Clarissa.
“According to her sisters, she was in the process of getting divorced,” the Lieutenant replied. “And before you suggest it, we definitely plan to ask her sisters about the husband.”
“Do you need me for anything more?” Brenda asked softly. The other people in the room turned to her as if they had forgotten she was there.
“I think we’ve got all we need, Ms. Fisher. Thank you for coming in,” Lieutenant Baker said.
When Clarissa and Brenda were once again outside the town hall, Brenda said, “You asked them as many questions as they asked me.”
“I hope you didn’t mind. I thought it would be helpful to find out what happened.”
“I didn’t mind at all. It took some of the pressure off.”
“I don’t think you have anything to worry about. It sounds like whoever killed this woman had a strong reason to do so, and wasn’t some disgruntled real estate agent, angry because the key hadn’t been turned in on time.”