Praying for Peace

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Praying for Peace Page 4

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson


  She stared at her hand and brushed something I couldn’t see from it. “I believe Pastor Alabaster blames Acel for his father’s death. He said it was time to put things to rest, and there was only one way that was goin’ to happen.” She blew her nose in another tissue.

  Jeremiah Alabaster shook his head. “You’re upsetting her. You need to leave.”

  “Was that argument recently?”

  She swallowed hard. “Last week, I think. But it wasn’t the first time I’d heard them argue about the fire. Just a few weeks ago I heard them discussing it, and Acel was so upset he left work early that day.” She buried her head in her hands. “It’s just awful. Just awful.”

  My eyes shifted between Alice Mae and the ghost. “Miss Alice Mae, I think it’s best we table this discussion. You’re upset, and I don’t want you feeling any worse. Have you told the police what you heard?”

  “Yes, yes, of course. And you’re right. I think I need a moment to myself. All that’s happened, and my allergies from the dust in the basement, it’s just too much. I hate to rush you out like this.”

  “No, no, really. It’s fine. I’ve got a lot to do, so don’t you worry about it one bit, okay?” A wave of guilt swept over me. “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’ll be fine. I just need to go home and rest.”

  “I think that’s a great idea.”

  I left her to gather her things and went to the restrooms just off the chapel. I’d glanced at Jeremiah Alabaster and signaled for him to follow, but he wasn’t behind me.

  When I closed the door to the women’s restroom, he appeared. “You must leave. This is upsetting everyone.”

  “Pastor, I can help you. Just tell me what happened that night, and I can help you find peace.”

  “I am at peace, and you cannot help me. If God wants my story told, he will tell it. It is not for you to decide.”

  “Maybe he’s given me the job of telling it for him.”

  He grimaced. “There has already been enough pain.”

  “What about Acel? What happened? Did your son kill him?”

  “Please, leave things be,” he said, and then he disappeared.

  I groaned. Pastor Alabaster was hiding a lot of things from me, and I was determined to get him talking.

  Georgia Alabaster sat on the front porch of her small white two-story home rocking in an old wood rocking chair that needed a new staining and maybe a screw or two tightened. She smiled when I approached. “Hello, if you’re looking for my son, he’s at the church.”

  “Mrs. Alabaster, I’m Chantilly Adair, I’m working on the restoration project for the church with the historical society.”

  “Oh yes, I read about the possibility in the paper. It would be lovely having the church back to its original design. My husband would love that.” She held out a pale hand to shake mine. I watched as it trembled. “He’s there you know. Still watching over his members. I’ve seen him, but he doesn’t know. Snuck a peek at him just last Sunday during my son’s sermon. Such a lovely light surrounding him. Was the first service I’ve gone to in months. I don’t get out much these days. It’s harder for me to get around at my age.”

  She was right. The pastor did have a bright light surrounding him, so I couldn’t help but wonder if she did really see him. “I’m sorry for your loss. I wasn’t alive when it happened, so I didn’t know your husband, but I understand he was a lovely man.”

  “That’s true, he was.” She sipped a glass of ice-cold sweet tea. “So, what would you like to know about the church?”

  "I'd like to ask you some questions to help me with my proposal for the restoration project." Realizing Georgia Alabaster might not have known about Acel’s demise, I treaded carefully. "Did your son talk with you about what happened today?"

  “You mean what happened to poor Acel? I saw the police cars and the ambulance and called Newton. I wanted to go there and see what was happening, but I don't get around too good much these days."

  She’d already mentioned that. Maybe Del was right. Georgia Alabaster had suffered mentally and physically after the fire. "Yes, it's a tragedy. And because of it, the mayor is concerned the restoration project isn't a good idea. He’s trying to shut it down, to tear down the church and rebuild it from scratch."

  “Oh, heavens, he might could reconsider?"

  "Absolutely. I am still moving forward with the restoration plans, and I thought if I sat and talked with some of the people that have been involved with the church for years it might help show the desire and the need for it to stay in the community."

  "Well isn't that just sweet of you, dear. I know my son would appreciate that. He was all kinds of upset when he came by a little while ago. He and Acel had made their peace years ago, after I told them both I was responsible for the fire, that is.”

  “You were responsible for the fire?”

  She smiled and rocked in her chair as she gazed out toward the cemetery.

  “Mrs. Alabaster?”

  “Oh, hello there dear, how are you today?”

  Georgia Alabaster was definitely two beers shy of a six pack. "Mrs. Alabaster, could you tell me what happened the night of the fire?"

  “Jeremiah is waiting for me. He’s waiting until it’s my time.”

  "Mrs. Alabaster,” I tried one more time. “About the day of the fire—"

  She interrupted me. "It was a day much like today.” She tapped her toes onto the cement front porch, pushing the rocking chair back and forth as she spoke. "Jeremiah needed to work late, said he had a sermon he wanted to finish before the evening ended. The church was hot as blazes. The air conditioning never much worked well in that big chapel but that didn't stop people from coming. They loved to hear Jeremiah. They loved his messages and said they always felt closer to God in that chapel, hearing his messages from Jeremiah." She smiled at me. "I think the stained-glass windows and the details on the pews, the carvings, those helped.”

  She gazed out into her front yard and across the way to the small cemetery attached to the church. My eyes followed her, and I noticed two women standing next to a large tombstone. They smiled and waved when they saw us watching.

  Mrs. Alabaster waved back.

  When the women disappeared right before our eyes, I gasped. I wasn't the only one who could see spirits in Castleberry, Georgia.

  “He was there so late, and I worried he’d get a headache if he didn't eat. Jeremiah always forgot to eat, and that poor man, he ended up with a headache because of it. I tried to tell him over and over he had to take care of himself, but he just focused on his parishioners and their needs, never thought about himself. So, I brought him over a sandwich and some sweet tea. He always did like my sweet tea. And when I got there, I heard him arguing about running his church in the way he felt it should be run. I stayed back and listened. Then I just left the food on his desk and left.”

  "Who was he arguing with?"

  She glanced down at her feet, gently pushing the cement once again, rocking harder as she thought about the answer to my question. She raised her shaking hand to her face and touched her chin. "William Chamblee."

  "William Chamblee? Are you sure it wasn’t Acel Grimes?”

  "Oh, dear, I don’t know for sure.” She smiled. "You'll have to ask my son, Newton. I've told him time and time again that Alice Mae should go to jail for what she’d done, so maybe if you talk to him, you can get him to call the police about it.”

  “Are you saying Alice Mae started that fire?”

  She glanced down at her feet again and then back to my eyes. I watched as her face softened with resignation and a hint of sadness. "Now sweetie, why would you think Alice Mae started that fire?”

  I sighed. As sweet as she was, Georgia Alabaster’s mind was not working properly. Her son was right, and I understood why he was concerned about me talking to her. “Thank you for your time, Mrs. Alabaster. It was lovely talking to you.”

  “It’s a pleasure talking to
you. Please, bring your family over for supper next weekend after service. Jeremiah and I love the company.”

  I made another pit stop at Community Café before heading back to the museum. I was tired, and a caffeine boost was just what I needed to pick me up and give me energy, let alone clear the fog Georgia Alabaster caused in my brain. When I walked in, the fresh, floral scent of lavender hit me smack dab in the face. Vases filled with bunches of the purple hued flower sat at every table.

  Del finished up with a customer and smiled. “Didn’t expect to see you back today.”

  I covered my mouth and yawned. “I’m give out. This research is exhausting, and besides, I just had the weirdest conversation with someone. I see you’re a happy camper this afternoon.” I’d added that last part because the frown and grouchy eyebrows were clearly a display of utter unhappiness on her part.

  She grunted. “My nose is tingling. Can’t make it stop.”

  I examined her face more closely. “It is a bit on the red side.” I glanced at a vase of lavender on her countertop. “Maybe it’s got something to do with these? You’ve got them all over the café. What gives?”

  “They’re for Thelma. She loves them, and I thought it would help cheer her up.”

  “Oh, my goodness, Delphina Beauregard, you really do have a heart.”

  “Shut it. I don’t want word getting out, you hear?”

  I laughed. “Yes, ma’am. Loud and clear.”

  “I’m just worried about the old coot. She wasn’t her usual self, before, and it ain’t right that she didn’t come back earlier and hasn’t been hanging out here driving me crazy all day. Things got to be balanced or it messes up the feel of my restaurant here. Can’t have problems like that screwing with my bottom line.”

  “Yes, I understand. It’s your bottom line you’re worried about. I get it.” She lied like a dog on a rug, and we both knew it, but pretending seemed to work for her, so I obliged.

  “I think I got me an allergy though. Hope I can make it until she comes by again in the morning.”

  “I’m not sure you have an actual allergy.” I scratched my nose. “That’s a lot of smell you’ve got here. It is a bit overwhelming. Maybe it’s less of an allergy and more of an irritant?”

  “Could be, but either way, I hope it helps.” She poured me a cup of coffee. “Between you and me, it’s hard seeing her like this. I like picking on her and all, it’s what we do, but when my friend is upset like this, I can’t handle it.”

  I patted her on the shoulder as we walked the short distance to my favorite table. I wanted to discuss the things that Georgia Alabaster had said, but it wasn’t the right time. What was important was being there for Del and Thelma. “Can you tell me about her and Charlie?”

  She smiled. “He was a good man. Loved that woman to death. You know they’d been together since grade school? Sure, they had their moments, but that man loved her like the dickens, and she loved him just as hard back. Tore her up when she lost him.”

  I exhaled. “Did he used to bring her flowers? Maybe lavender and carnations?” I had a hunch, and I wanted to see if I was right.

  She smiled. “At least a few times a month. Thelma used to come in bragging, and I’d get on her about it. Said us spinsters didn’t need to hear about all that happily ever after stuff. But you know that was just a front. I loved knowin’ my friend was happy as a pig in mud.”

  “I know. You’re a softie on the inside.”

  She smiled. “Don’t share that secret, or I’ll have to ban you from the café.”

  “My lips are sealed.” I pressed my lips together, not realizing I mimicked what I’d just said. “What did Charlie look like?”

  She smiled. “Like he needed a haircut and a shave.” For a moment, her eyes glossed over, and I worried she might cry. “Thelma didn’t seem to mind though. She liked the way his graying hair tickled the sides of his ears, and said she giggled every time he’d rub his scruffy face against her chin.” She sighed. “Used to drive me crazy. I never knew a love like that.” She surveyed her café filled with customers sitting at tables, sipping sweet tea, and enjoying their company. “This was always my first and my only love. Don’t think I had much patience for a man, but not Thelma. She had all the patience in the world for her Charlie. He used to call her Dolly, too, ‘cause of the wigs. Said she was better looking than the real one, and she’d giggle every time he said it.”

  I was right. “I don’t want you to say anything to her, because I’m not sure yet, but I think Charlie came to me at the church.”

  Her eyes widened. “Charlie? What makes you think it was him?”

  “Because he said he always got his wife carnations and lavender, and he called her Dolly.”

  Del smacked her hand against the table, and in a voice louder than necessary, said, “Darn straight that was him.”

  The crowd in the restaurant all stopped what they were doing and stared at us. Del blushed, pushed herself up from the chair and said to the crowd, “I’m just having a conversation with my friend here. Nothing for you to see, so quit being so nosy, or I’ll ban y’all from coming back.”

  Everyone knew she wouldn’t really ban them, but just in case, they went back to their own conversations.

  Better safe than sorry.

  She sat back in her seat and grimaced as she adjusted her backside on the hard chair. “I’m beginning to think Thelma is right about these chairs.”

  I laughed. Karma had a way of coming around and teaching lessons, both big and little ones.

  “So, what did Charlie say?”

  “He said he used to get his wife lavender bunches. Would walk to town a few times a month to get them. And he had a message for her.”

  “A message? What was it?”

  I loved Del, I really did, but I wasn’t sure it was right, sharing a private message from a spirit with someone other than the person for which it was intended.

  When she noticed my expression shift ever so slightly, she backed off. “It’s okay. It ain’t my business. But are you going to tell her? Might cheer her up.”

  “I just want to make sure it’s really him. I don’t want to give her a message intended for someone else.”

  “Makes sense, but my guess is it’s from him. That’s why you asked what he looked like, right?”

  “Yes, and I’ll tell her when the time is right.” I gathered my things into a pile. Hey, I think you’re right about Georgia Alabaster.”

  “That she’s not right in the head? Told you that. What happen? You talk to her? Surprised that son of hers let you near her. He won’t even let her come to church. Says she’s too sick.”

  “I think he’s right, she is too sick.”

  “So, you did talk to her?”

  “I did, and her story changed several times in a matter of minutes. I’m just not sure she’s all there mentally. It was sad, really.” I stuffed the last of the papers into my bag. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a bunch of work to get done and not a lot of time to do it. Austin’s got lacrosse tonight, and I don’t want to have to be working on the bleachers.”

  5

  I tried to complete the final details of the church’s restoration plan, but I just couldn’t focus. Something kept nudging me, theoretically speaking, on my shoulder, telling me the two deaths were somehow connected. I knew if I figured out the true details of the fire and Pastor Jeremiah’s death, I’d find Acel Grimes’s killer.

  I just had no idea how to investigate something that happened before I was born. Time changed details, it always did, no matter what the situation, and I’d already been told so many conflicting things about the fire, I didn’t know what to believe.

  But I knew if I didn’t figure it out, there was no way the mayor would allow for any restoration project funding to clear the city council, and without that funding, the church didn’t have a chance at becoming what it once was.

  Jack attended lacrosse practice after all, and though I tried hard not to, I found myself watch
ing him from across the field more than the boys. Just before practice ended, Jack sent one of the boys to the bleachers and reminded the parents about a quick meeting afterward. I’m glad he did, because I’d completely forgotten about the email he’d sent the day before about it, though I was surprised he still had time for lacrosse with the murder investigation in full force.

  The parents gathered inside the fenced in turf field. When Jack approached, he smiled at everyone, but let his glance linger on me a little longer than the rest.

  Bless my heart, it made me dizzy.

  “I’m sure you’ve all heard what happened at the church earlier,” he said.

  Everyone nodded.

  “Unfortunately, it’s bad timing on the murderer’s part, given that we’ve got the lacrosse tournament.”

  A few parents chuckled in an awkward way.

  “And because of that, I’ve asked for another detective to partner with me on the case, so I can still be here as much as possible.”

  The parents clapped.

  “Most murders are solved in a matter of a few days, and I’m confident this will be one of those. But in the event it’s not, I’ll still do my best to make it to the tournament. I don’t want to let the boys down. They’ve worked hard preparing for this, and I want to be there when they win the championship game.”

  The parents clapped again.

  “But I also don’t want a killer loose in Castleberry, so you’ll understand if my priorities are divided.”

  I nodded along with everyone else.

  He clapped and rubbed his palms together. “Okay, now that that’s taken care of, we’re taking a break tomorrow, but I still want them all working on their stick skills at home, and I’m going to count on you to make that happen. Maybe fifteen, twenty minutes, that’s it. Let’s not have any over used muscles going out on us this weekend.”

  When he finished, I headed to the parking lot with the rest of the parents, but Jack stopped me before I got to my car. “Hey, you hungry?”

 

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