Praying for Peace

by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson

  “I thought you had an investigation to run?”

  He nodded. “But a guy’s got to eat.”

  “That’s true.”

  “Pizza?”

  It was always pizza with Jack, but I wasn’t complaining. I loved pizza. “Sure. We’ll see you there.”

  The hostess sat us at a table at the front of the restaurant.

  “So, about the investigation,” I paused, and he jumped right into a lecture.

  “There you go, sticking your nose where you shouldn’t.”

  “I am not.” I smiled as I touched my nose without even realizing it.

  “Don’t worry.” He smiled. “It’s not big. It’s kind of cute.”

  I blushed.

  “Gross,” Austin said. He’d had his head stuck in his phone, and I didn’t realize he was paying attention.

  Jack pulled his wallet from his pocket and tossed Austin a ten-dollar bill. “Go play some games.”

  Austin’s eyes lit up. “Wow, cool.” He snatched the ten spot, jumped out of the chair, and raced to the small game room in the back of the restaurant.

  “That’s a lot of money,” I said.

  “Gives us a few minutes to talk alone.”

  My heart skipped a beat.

  “We got an anonymous tip today.”

  While I was happy to be included in the private details of the investigation, a tiny piece of my heart had hoped we’d talk about something other than murder and mayhem. I moved closer to the edge of the table, my curiosity piqued even though my heart was a touch disappointed. “What kind of anonymous tip?”

  “Looks like Acel’s son’s got himself involved with a gang in the city.”

  “Oh, no.”

  “Caller said he’s been targeted by a rival gang over a robbery a few weeks back.”

  “So, they killed his father? Is that what gangs do?”

  “Sometimes, if it’s convenient.”

  “Coming this far north to Castleberry from Atlanta doesn’t sound all that convenient.”

  Our appetizer arrived, garlic bread knots with marinara sauce. As if we weren’t already going to carb load with bad for us food with the supreme meat and veggie pizza we’d ordered.

  “I’m not a gang expert, but they are less random than most people think, and if Acel’s son did something to warrant a statement like that, you can bet they’d come here to make it.”

  “Do you know which gang?”

  “We’re working on it. I’m meeting with someone from Atlanta’s gang control unit tomorrow morning.”

  “I’ve talked to a few people here, and I think Acel’s murder might be related to the fire.”

  He raised an eyebrow and popped a garlic knot into his mouth. Once he swallowed it down, he said, “You think a fire from sixty something years ago is connected to Acel’s murder?”

  I nodded.

  He leaned back in his seat and rubbed his hands on the tops of his legs.

  “It’s just a feeling, but there was a lot going on when Pastor Alabaster died. Have you talked to anyone about that?”

  He shook his head. “Not really. It doesn’t fit. An accident from the 60s and an intentional murder now? If they’re connected, why so long between the two?”

  “Maybe the murderer didn’t know they were connected until recently? Maybe they just discovered the truth.”

  “And what truth is that?”

  “Acel started the fire that killed Pastor Alabaster.”

  “So, someone killed him to get revenge?”

  “It’s possible.”

  “Possible, yes. Probable? I don’t think so.”

  “But you can’t rule it out. Ask around, there was a lot of discord at the church back then, and Acel was in the thick of it. There were rumors he was going to be fired and that he and the pastor had an argument the night he died.” I tore apart a small garlic knot and chewed on it. “Oh, and William Chamblee, you have to know the story about him.”

  “Issues with money management at the church.”

  “Yes, and he wanted to fire Acel. Thought the church members could do his job for free. Said it would give the church more money.”

  “But Acel wasn’t fired.”

  “No, because that argument happened the same night as the fire, too, or at least one of them. They’d had a few arguments apparently.”

  That gave him pause, but not for long. “Acel’s been at the church since long before that fire. Don’t you think if Chamblee wanted him gone that bad, and he’s the one responsible for the fire, he’d have done something in the past fifty years to get him out?”

  He had me there. “Maybe he was waiting for the right time?”

  He kept his eyes focused on me.

  “Or maybe something else happened and it got William Chamblee’s undies in a bunch and he decided to take action?”

  He smirked. “Undies in a bunch?”

  I blushed. “It’s something my mother always said.”

  “It’s cute.”

  I blushed even more, so I glanced down at the half full plate of garlic bread knots to avoid eye contact. “It’s possible though, isn’t it?”

  He shrugged. “Anything’s possible, but that doesn’t mean it’s what happened. I’ll have someone ask around, see what they find, but from what I’ve learned Grimes’s son was into some serious stuff in the city, and if he messed with the wrong people, they’ll make him pay.”

  I didn’t disagree with that. After all, he was the professional, but something told me Acel’s murder was connected to the fire, and I just couldn’t shake that feeling.

  “There’s more.”

  “Okay.” He eyed me, waiting for me to talk.

  “Georgia Alabaster said she started the fire.”

  He blinked.

  “And then she said Alice Mae did it.”

  “You do know that woman’s not well, right? She hasn’t been for years.”

  “Yes, because then she basically said Alice Mae didn’t.”

  He smirked. “We’re running with the gang lead. If that doesn’t pan out, I’ll reconsider two old women and a hermit for Acel, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  6

  I hollered to Austin from the kitchen. “Hurry up kiddo, you’re slower than molasses this morning. We’ve got to go.”

  He sauntered into the kitchen like he didn’t have a care in the world, his reddish blond hair a wild mess on the top of his head. Maybe I’d missed something? Maybe school no longer had a tardy policy?

  “Austin, you’re not even dressed. Come on, you’re going to be late.”

  He gazed at me like I was speaking a foreign language. “Mom, we have late start today.”

  I furrowed my brows. “Really? Why didn’t I know this?”

  He pointed to the calendar on the ‘fridge. “You did.”

  I glanced at the calendar and there it was, late start, with a big Sharpie marker red circle around it. “Oh, I must have forgotten.” I gathered my things and stuffed them into my bag. “Well, you’re going to have to rush anyway. I’ve got some things to do this morning before a meeting with the mayor. I need to get going, so get a move on.”

  “Justin’s mom is picking me up. I told you that last night when you were flirting with Coach.”

  I felt my face redden and looked into my bag so Austin couldn’t see. “I wasn’t flirting with Coach.”

  “Mom, I’m not a kid anymore. I know what flirting looks like.”

  “Oh, you do, huh? Well then fill me in because I haven’t flirted in over twenty years.”

  “Looks like you haven’t forgotten how.”

  I smiled. “Yep, your mom’s still got it. Good to know.”

  He grimaced. “Gross.”

  I laughed. “Hey, if the shoe fits.”

  He shook his head, grabbed a bagel from the bag on the counter and tossed it into the toaster oven.

  I rubbed the top of his head. “Do something with this rat’s nest before Justin’s mom gets you, okay? I don’
t want her thinking I raised a pig.”

  He groaned as I smiled and walked out of the kitchen and to my car in the garage. Austin had adjusted to the move well. He’d made friends quickly, and it appeared he’d fit right in. I’d worried about that. Moving from Birmingham with a population of over two hundred thousand to a small town with under ten thousand wasn’t easy for a tweenaged boy, and I worried he’d struggle to fit in. Birmingham wasn’t a big city by any means, but compared to Castleberry, it felt like New York or Chicago. But Austin didn’t flinch with the move. He still connected with his Alabama friends through his video games and his monthly visits to see Scott, so moving wasn’t as hard as I worried it would be.

  I made a pitstop at Community Café for Del’s big event. Well, I considered it a big event, but she didn’t. She’d added a new coffee to her menu, a nitro cold brew that required a fancy piece of equipment resembling a beer tap. I’d read they were all the rage, and came with a bigger boost of caffeine, something I needed just about every morning. I also wanted to check on Thelma, see if she was there, and if the flowers made her feel any better.

  When I walked in, I saw the man from the church hovering near my favorite table. He smiled at me, but I looked away. If he was Charlie, and I was certain he was, the last thing I wanted to do was have a chat with him in front of people that knew him when he was alive.

  Especially his wife, who’d walked in just before me. She sat at the table where her dead husband hovered and chatted quietly with Olivia Castleberry, another employee from the historical society.

  Olivia was the best coworker I’d ever had. Technically, I was her boss, but I didn’t look at it that way. She’d been with the historical society since graduating from college a few years prior, and she was practically a local historian. Her family roots gave her a strong connection to the town, and she took it seriously.

  “Hey ladies.” I pulled out my chair with a smile aimed at Charlie, hoping he’d recognize that I saw him, but wasn’t going to mention his visits.

  “Hey there, Miss Chantilly,” Olivia said. She often referred to me with Southern manners like that even though I always encouraged her not to.

  “Thelma.” I smiled at my friend. “You okay?” Thelma’s eyes didn’t have their usual sparkle, and it hurt my heart.

  She brushed off my concern by completely ignoring it. “Guess who I saw yesterday morning on my way to town?”

  “Who?” Olivia asked.

  Del brought me a small cup of her new super high-octane coffee. “On the house, but only if you promise to love it.”

  “I’m sure I will. Anything with an added boost of energy is good to me.” I redirected my attention back to Thelma who sat solemn and slumped in her chair instead of in her usual matter with her shoulders back and a smile on her face. “I’m sorry, who did you see today?”

  “William Chamblee. First time in ages, he’s walking down the street like he used to years ago. Heading straight to town.”

  Olivia gasped. “Really? That’s the last thing that man ought to be doing considering people are talking like he had something to do with Acel Grimes’s murder and all.”

  “People are saying that?” I asked.

  “’Course they are. It’s like reliving the past all over again.” She shrugged as she sipped her coffee. “Not that I’d know seeing as I wasn’t even a thought in my momma’s head in the sixties.”

  Del snorted. “You momma wasn’t even born yet, so there ain’t no way she could have thought of you.”

  Olivia blushed. “Oh goodness, I hadn’t done the math for that.”

  I smiled. Olivia was smart as a whip when it came to Castleberry’s history, but common sense wasn’t her strong point.

  “What’re people saying?” I asked.

  “Oh, you know, the usual. Mr. Chamblee never did much like Acel. Wanted him fired because the church needed the money, and even after all these years, they never did much get along.”

  “But I thought William Chamblee had become a recluse of sorts?”

  That’s why I thought it was strange to see him walking to town, and given what happened, it don’t look good for him,” Thelma said.

  The spirit hung close to her. When his hand grazed her shoulder, she glanced to that side, and from the tiny smile forming on her face, I knew for sure she’d felt it. I was grateful to see her smile again.

  Olivia picked at a cranberry muffin Del had set on a plate in front of her. “I wonder if it has something to do with the murder?”

  “Of course it does,” Del said. “He’s making sure people see him so they don’t talk about him. Poor man don’t want no more gossip about what happened fifty years ago, let alone this week.”

  “Only they saw him on the day of Acel’s murder, so that’s not good for him.”

  “Only Thelma saw him,” Del said. She mouthed toward me, “And she’s not herself lately.”

  Thelma stared into her coffee cup. “My Charlie used to see him walking to town every now and again. Said he felt sorry for the man. Didn’t think he had a thing to do with the fire and wished there was something he could do to help him. His life changed after the church burned. Poor William was never the same.”

  “She’s right, you know. I never did think William killed Pastor Alabaster. Just didn’t seem like the kind of man that could do something like that,” Charlie said.

  I smiled in his direction.

  “I wonder if Charlie’s around today,” Thelma said.

  “Oh, I have a feeling he’s always close by you,” Del said.

  “Why do you wonder about today?”

  “It’s the anniversary of our first date. He asked me to the town dance sixty-two years ago today.”

  “Oh, I thought you’d been together since you were kids,” I said.

  “Well, we were sweet on each other back then, but we were too young to do anything about it. It wasn’t until I was thirteen that we started dating.” She smiled again. It was good to see Thelma smile.

  “And we spent every day of my life together from that day on,” Charlie said. “I couldn’t have asked for a better life, or a better woman.”

  A tear threatened to drop from my right eye, so I swiped it away. I didn’t want to get emotional in front of Thelma for fear they’d push me to say something I wasn’t ready to say.”

  “Oh, Thelma, that must be a wonderful memory for you,” Olivia said.

  “I got me a lot of wonderful memories. My Charlie, he was a good man.”

  Charlie beamed with pride, a bright white glow surrounding him. I knew I’d have to give Thelma his message, I just wanted to do it privately. I didn’t feel it was something I should share with others around.

  “Excuse me,” Olivia said, “but I am starting a side business, and I was hoping I could use y’all as models.”

  “A side business?” Del asked.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m a sales representative for a new skin care line, and I thought maybe y’all might could come by my place this evening, and I could give you facials? ‘Course they’ll be on me. I need the practice for my parties.”

  Thelma caressed her face. She had the skin of a fifty-year-old woman, soft and creamy, and barely wrinkled. It was beautiful, even with the outrageously colored makeup. Thelma liked her makeup, and the more colorful, the better. Though I noticed she’d barely worn any that morning, and I wondered if it was the day that caused that.

  “I might could come, but it depends on the time,” Del said.

  “I have an idea,” I said. “Austin’s got a day off from practice today, so why don’t we do it at my place? I’ve got to cook for my son anyway, so y’all can come to my house. We’ll have dinner and get our facials.”

  Del nodded. “I can, but it’ll be around seven o’clock.”

  “I’ll have to come in my pajamas because that’s a little late for me," Thelma said.

  “If you’d like, I’ll pick you up, Miss Thelma,” Olivia said.

  “That would be nice,” Thelma s
aid.

  I wanted to talk with Charlie and see if he’d seen anything at the church the day before. “Ladies, I hate to rush. I have to get some things done this morning. I’ll make sure to have something ready for dinner by seven.” I glanced at Charlie and wiggled my head, hoping he’d get my message to come along.

  I hopped into my car and nearly threw my bag on him when he appeared in the seat next to me. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re Charlie?”

  “I thought you knew?”

  I shook my head as I drove the short distance to the historical society museum office. “I figured it out later, but I didn’t make the connection.”

  He laughed. “You didn’t know I called her Dolly?”

  “I don’t think she’s mentioned it around me, but I haven’t been back all that long.”

  “She likes you. She tells me all the time. Talks to me every day. Says you’re a good egg.”

  “I like her, too. She’s a beautiful woman inside and out.” There weren’t many women in their forties in Castleberry. Most were either younger or older, and other than Olivia, I preferred the older ones. Their lives were filled with stories, and their grace, including Delphina’s, was something lacking in my generation.

  My Dolly, she’s still a looker after all these years.”

  I smiled. I hoped I ended up with someone to love me like Charlie loved Thelma. I had a feeling that kind of love was rare. “I’m going to give her your message, but I want it to be when we’re alone. I’m not sure how she’ll react. She hasn’t been herself the past few days.”

  “It’s the anniversary. She gets down every year around this time. I try to show her I’m there, but I’m not sure she knows.”

  “I think she does. She felt you touch her shoulder earlier, I could tell.”

  His eyes lit up. “You think? I talk to her, but she don’t hear me. Don’t know what else to do, so when I heard about you, I knew I could get her a message through you.”

  “Heard about me?”

  “We talk, us spirits. Word gets out about the living that can see us. Death ain’t a whole lot different than life when it comes to gossip.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. Hey, Charlie, can we talk about what happened at the church?”