Angels Undercover

by Diane Noble

  “Flowers?”

  Paul grinned. “Hyacinth, Daisy, and Pansy.”

  Eli Weston, who’d been sitting in front of Paul, turned around. “The old gent’s name is Earl Pennyweather. He’s the one who started the Copper Mill Chronicle years ago. Sold it to Marshall Owens when he retired.”

  “Oh yes,” Paul said, nodding. “I’ve heard about Earl. He was quite the man about town in his day.”

  “If you ever want to hear some tales about the history of Copper Mill, these are the people to ask. Hyacinth Barker taught fourth grade here for decades. Probably had most of the people in this audience as students.” Eli grinned. “She retired long before I got into fourth grade, but everyone used to talk about her deadly aim.”

  Paul and Kate exchanged a puzzled glance.

  Eli chuckled. “With a chalkboard eraser. If a student got too chatty in the back row, she’d just haul off and throw an eraser at his head. Her sisters are almost as colorful. Daisy is the sweetest little lady you’d ever want to meet. Comes by the shop just to chat and find out how I’m doing. She dropped by almost daily after my Deidre died.

  “And Pansy’s a hoot. Everybody loves her. Seems to be the nosiest of the three, but in a way you can’t fault her. She has a heart that would take in every stray—animal or person—in the whole world if she could.”

  Eli walked with Paul and Kate as they headed to the library entrance.

  The Barker sisters and Earl Pennyweather made their way across the parking lot to an old station wagon. Just before Earl and the women stepped into the car, Earl turned around and searched the crowd.

  Kate followed his gaze to the object of his attention. It was Caroline, standing at the top of the steps leading into the library entrance. She gave him a smile and waggled her gloved fingers at him.

  With a stately tilt of his snowy-white head, he acknowledged the wave. Behind him, the Barker sisters tittered, then climbed into the station wagon.

  Kate looked at Paul. “You don’t suppose...”

  “That romance is in the air?” He grinned and slid his arm around her shoulders. “It wouldn’t surprise me. And I think it’s delightful.”

  “Wait till Renee finds out.” Kate rolled her eyes. “Oh my...”

  “Now that will be something to see,” he said. Still chuckling, they entered the library together.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday morning dawned bright and beautiful. The air was crisp with a smattering of clouds to the south when Kate went out to check on her new bed of chrysanthemums. She had worried over them since she’d tramped around in the flower beds the night of the break-in. She stooped to pull off a few deadheads, glad to see the opening of new blossoms, the color of sunshine. A light wind lifted her hair, and she closed her eyes as she stood breathing in the fragrance of foliage, dampened by an early morning mist.

  The Lord’s day. Her favorite day of the week.

  Then she remembered this was the Sunday the teens were going to try out their contemporary music in the morning worship service. She whispered a prayer as she headed back into the house, asking for grace for all.

  Paul had, as usual, left for church early, and Kate hurried around the kitchen gathering the ingredients for a slow-cooker meal. Humming to herself, she dropped the beef brisket she’d just browned into the Crock-Pot, then added some chopped onions and garlic, chili powder, cumin, chipotle chili, and canned tomatoes, and plunked down the lid. Sundays were wonderful days to throw a meal together early in the morning, let it cook all day with no muss or fuss—something that seemed to appeal to her more and more lately—then enjoy it later with Paul and, possibly, friends they might invite over to join them.

  She turned on the slow cooker, made sure the setting was correct, then hurried to the bedroom to dress for church. On her way down the hall, she glanced into her studio. There, laying on her worktable, was the strange envelope with her name typed on the front.

  She hesitated at the door. Since that night, the whole thing had nagged at her. She’d pulled out the angel pattern and list more times than she could count, contemplating whether she should begin making the votives or just wait until someone confessed to being the mysterious and inept typist.

  AS SHE DROVE TO CHURCH, she again mulled over the strange missive. On the one hand, she was glad Paul agreed with her that it was time to put more secure locks on their doors. But on the other hand, something irked her about adding more security to their home. Paul felt the same way. A parsonage should be a place of open refuge to anyone in need.

  Which brought her back to the contents of the envelope. Obviously, someone thought the people on the list had needs; otherwise, why would the intruder have gone to the trouble of breaking into the parsonage and leaving the envelope? And why wouldn’t he just have spoken directly to Kate about it? Why be so mysterious?

  She pulled into the church parking lot and slid from behind the wheel of her Honda. Without thinking, she clicked the remote to lock the doors. Then she realized what she’d done and halted midstep. This was the first time in months she’d felt the need to lock her car. Now, with the library robbery and her own unease about the parsonage, an edge of fear tugged at her heart.

  She turned around and hit the remote again, unlocking the doors. She wasn’t about to let any robber-thug keep her from trusting others.

  Kate checked her watch. Recently Sam Gorman, the church organist and choir director, had decided that a quick run-through of their choir selections was needed before each Sunday service. She was ten minutes early, so she slipped into the sanctuary where she knew Sam was working with the three teens who would make their debut that morning—Caleb King, who played guitar; Ashley Walton, who played keyboard and sang; and Denver Price on drums.

  She sat in her usual spot up front and smiled to show her support. A few early bird parishioners dotted the pews. Then it hit her. These weren’t the folks who usually arrived before everyone else. The way they were lifting eyebrows and whispering among themselves, they had obviously come to hear—and judge—the music and the musicians. It didn’t surprise her to see Renee Lambert, but it did surprise her to see the church secretary, Millie Lovelace, and her husband. And she hadn’t expected to see Renee’s mother, Caroline, who was a member of St. Lucy’s Episcopal Church.

  On the platform with the young people, Sam glanced at his watch. “We’ve got a few more minutes to practice. Let’s try the last song again, this time maybe a little slower and softer.”

  The group began playing. It was a melody Kate didn’t recognize—if one could call it a melody. But the youth put their all into it.

  Caleb, with his collar-length mop of dark hair and thin features, played the guitar as if it were part of him—from his heart to his fingers. His expression was intense, as if he somehow existed inside the music.

  After a few moments, Ashley stepped to the microphone. She was a little bit of a thing, with her blonde hair straight and frayed jeans with holes in the knees. She belted out the song with a voice like Aretha Franklin’s. It took Kate a few minutes to recognize the song. She had never heard “What a Friend We Have in Jesus” played and sung quite like this. She blinked in surprise. It was beautiful.

  The music was upbeat and spirited, and Ashley’s face took on a mix of wonder and joy as she sang. There was a sense of curiosity in her expression, as if the words were so new and fresh, she didn’t know what to make of them.

  Of the three, Denver Price looked the most relaxed. With a round face, round wire-rimmed glasses, and a shock of honey-colored hair, he was grinning as if he’d never had so much fun. He sat perched on a raised stool behind his drum set, which consisted of two snares, two high-hat cymbals, three bongo drums of various sizes, and a bass drum. His drumsticks flew this way and that, and he showed no compulsion to either slow down the beat or soften his playing.

  After a few minutes, Denver gave a nod to Ashley, who was now playing the keyboard. Both dropped back on the volume as Caleb stepped forward and began his gui
tar solo.

  Kate sat back astounded. The young man was good. Really good. It was loud, yes. It was fast, probably too fast, yes. But the young man had talent. His fingers literally danced along the guitar’s neck. Again, she was surprised—and pleasantly so—that the upbeat music stirred something beautiful in her soul.

  Kate glanced up as Paul slipped into the pew beside her. “How’s it going?” he whispered.

  “Just listen to this, Paul. They’ve got talent. Real talent.”

  After a few minutes, Sam held up a hand to stop the group. “That’s all we have time for now, kids. You guys are terrific. Every time you play, you get better.”

  As he gave them last-minute instructions about the order of service and when they would perform, Paul stood, then reached for Kate’s hand to help her up. They walked down the aisle to where the young musicians were gathering their things.

  “I want to add my thanks,” Paul said, “for your willingness to bring your talents and energy to Faith Briar. I know we will all be blessed by your music.”

  Kate added a few words of gratitude, then as she glanced at the smattering of parishioners who had come early, her heart constricted. Their faces had taken on the look of thunderclouds.

  Millie Lovelace wasted no time jumping up from her pew and making a beeline for Paul.

  “Pastor,” she huffed, “you know me. I’m pretty tolerant when it comes to theology and such. I figure the experts know more than I do, but this...”—she gestured almost helplessly at the young people who were now heading back down the aisle toward the foyer—“this, this...well, I’m at a loss for words. I just need to warn you, others feel the same way. We’re not going to stand for this if it becomes part of the service. If it’s anything, it’s sacrilegious.”

  Paul’s face remained a portrait of calm, and his voice was gentle when he spoke. “Millie, let’s talk about this later. I understand your concerns and want to hear you out, but now’s not the time.”

  Renee came up behind Millie and almost shoved the younger woman aside. A cloud of Estée Lauder’s Youth-Dew descended as Kisses, on his jeweled leash, sniffed everyone’s shoes.

  Caroline stayed in the background, leaning on her jeweled cane. She met Kate’s eyes briefly, then looked away. There was a sadness in her eyes that squeezed Kate’s heart.

  “I agree with Millie,” Renee said, drawing her lips into a disapproving pucker. “This is an abomination!”

  As Paul talked to the disgruntled parishioners, Kate stepped over to talk with Caroline. “It’s good to have you with us this morning,” she said gently.

  Caroline sniffed and raised a brow. “It’s not permanent, so don’t get your hopes up.”

  Kate ignored the dig. “I didn’t expect so. I just meant we’re glad to see you.”

  Behind her, Paul kicked his tone up a couple notches to kind-but-firm. “Ladies, the service will be starting in a few minutes. We’ll address this issue, believe me, as time goes on. But I ask for now, while we try this out, that you accept these young people. Their music may be unfamiliar, but I think it’s going to be a blessing in disguise. They need us as much as we need them.”

  “Hmmph,” Renee snorted.

  Paul said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me...”

  He left the sanctuary, and some of the others drifted off, still muttering about the new music.

  Renee and Millie joined Kate and Caroline. Renee had obviously been listening to their conversation.

  “Mother’s priest is on vacation,” Renee told Kate, “and the fill-in makes no bones about his proud Yankee heritage. Irks Mother to no end.” Kate had long known that Tennessee was a border state in which families and friends had been tragically divided during the Civil War, but she had no idea the passions still ran so hot.

  She checked her watch. “It’s time for choir practice. We can’t be late.”

  “Hmmph,” Renee huffed again. “If what I heard this morning is an indication of the direction this church is heading with its music, I don’t even know if I want to be in the choir.” She took her mother’s elbow to help her to her seat.

  “I feel the same way about the work I do in the church,” Millie said to Kate while they waited for Renee. “It rubs against the grain, this newfangled rock or whatever it’s called. How can we call this a worship service with that kind of noise? Who can concentrate with that going on?”

  Kate reached for Millie’s hand and squeezed it. “Just give the kids a chance.” Then she tilted her head as a new thought came to her. “You’ve been trying to get your boys to come to church for a long time, haven’t you? Maybe this kind of music will bring them here. They would enjoy this, don’t you think?”

  Millie shook her head. “I have no idea what it might take to get them out of bed on a Sunday morning. Plus, what kind of a Christian witness is this? Why, this rock and roll is no better than what you’d hear at some nightclub on Saturday night.” She had tears in her eyes. “I love this church and never thought I’d see the day...”

  KATE HAD JUST SETTLED into her usual seat in the second row when Renee leaned toward her. “With all the hullabaloo over the music, I nearly forgot to ask you...”

  “Ask what?”

  “If you heard about the latest B and E.”

  A breaking and entering? Kate turned toward Renee so fast she pinched a nerve in her neck.

  Renee’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought, seeing as how the parsonage experienced a hit—”

  “How did you know about that?” Kate could count on one hand the number of people she and Paul had told.

  “Same as the latest. My neighbor Lola stopped by with the news this morning almost before dawn. She heard it from her sister Maude, who heard it from Skip Spencer’s mother...”

  Sam, who was playing the piano, began to transition from the soft meditative music to the more upbeat intro to the opening anthem. Paul had now entered to take his place on the platform. The service was about to start.

  Kate whispered from behind her bulletin. “Who? When? Where?” Those “W” questions had seemed to be cropping up a lot.

  Renee put her finger to her lips and glanced pointedly at Paul, who had risen and moved to the pulpit for the call to worship and opening prayer.

  “I’ll tell you after the service. I’ll just say this about it...It’s a sad and tragic circumstance.” She shook her head slowly. “Very sad.”

  Very sad indeed. Kate agreed.

  Then she blinked. Three break-ins in less than a week. And in a little town where such things almost never happened? It seemed to Kate that this was more than a coincidence. There had to be a connection, but what was it?

  Chapter Seven

  It happened last night sometime.” Renee leaned toward Kate after the closing hymn. “The victim is a widow here in town—Clementine Jones. Her husband died recently, poor dear.” She shook her head sadly. “And now this. Apparently she stepped out to go to a neighbor’s house and came back to find her home had been burglarized.”

  Kate blinked at Renee. “Did you say Clementine Jones?”

  Renee nodded. “Why do you look surprised?”

  Kate shook her head and motioned for Renee to continue. She wasn’t about to mention that Clementine’s name was the first on the mysterious list left in her studio. Or that she intended to pay Clementine a visit to see what the connection might be. “Do you know where she lives?” She lowered her voice conspiratorially and gave Kate vague directions. It was obvious she didn’t know exactly where everyone in Copper Mill lived.

  “Of course. I know where everyone in Copper Mill lives.”

  Kate smiled, humoring her. “Do you know anything else about the break-in? What was taken?”

  “The grapevine wasn’t privy to those kinds of details. But I do know that the sheriff might let Skip Spencer handle this case. At least that’s what Skip’s mother said.” Renee reached into her handbag and pulled out a travel-sized spritzer of Youth-Dew.

  KATE JOINED PAUL in the foyer to greet pa
rishioners as they filed past to the exit. Her dismay grew as many freely gave their opinions about the contemporary worship music the young people had played. Some were dead set against it; others thought it was like a breath of fresh air. Still others said they saw its value as a tool to reach the young people of Faith Briar and Copper Mill. Sadly, those against it outnumbered those who were for it. They were also more vocal.

  The three young musicians had apparently overheard the comments. As the crowd thinned, Kate could see them standing off to one side.

  She went over to them immediately. “Your music was wonderful,” she said, hoping to make up for the lack of courtesy others had shown. “Full of energy and spirit. It may take some of our parishioners time to adjust, but they’ll come around.” As she smiled at the three, she prayed silently that her faith in the people of Faith Briar would be realized.

  Ashley tucked a long strand of blonde hair behind one ear and gave Kate a soft smile in return. “This is new to us too. We didn’t know what to expect.” Her voice was low and husky for such a petite girl.

  “Yeah.” Denver looked like he’d had the best time of his life playing drums that morning. “Like, it’s pretty cool that you all want us to come and play. It’s all new to us, this whole church thing.” He shrugged. “My mom and dad aren’t much for organized religion. They say everybody should decide for themselves about that kinda stuff.” He pushed up his glasses. “But this was pretty cool today.”

  Caleb studied Kate without speaking, then he nodded and stuck out his hand to shake hers. His face was ordinary, with its thin, angular jaw, and a nose slightly too big for the rest of his features. It struck Kate that it was his large hazel eyes, a smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose, and high cheekbones that made his looks extraordinary.

  “Your solo was excellent,” she said, smiling at Caleb. Then her gaze took in all three teens. “I was very impressed with all of you. You were terrific this morning.”

  “That’s apparently not the general consensus,” Caleb said, a hint of anger in his voice.