by Ingrid Thoft
Fina wondered if she was the kind of woman who didn’t know anything about money stuff in her own home. Sure, older women were raised to leave the finances to their husbands, but Fina could never believe how many younger women didn’t know the first thing about their family’s assets. You didn’t need a penis to keep tabs on your bank balance.
“You’ve been very helpful,” Fina said.
“Please. You’re the one who stopped my kids from burning down the house.”
“They would have called 911 eventually.”
Heather followed Fina to the front door. “Maybe, but would there be any house left? I’ll let Lucas know you stopped by.”
“You don’t need to bug him with my questions. I don’t want to distract him from the home fires, so to speak. I’ll give him a call.”
“Believe me, he’ll welcome a distraction. Did you drive your father crazy when you were a teenager?”
“Actually, I think I still do,” Fina admitted. “But we still spend lots of time together. It doesn’t seem to have an adverse effect on our relationship.” Or maybe the adverse effect was their relationship. It was so hard to tease out the dysfunctional chicken from the dysfunctional egg.
“Don’t tell Lucas that. He’s convinced it’s a stage.”
“I’m sure it is. Take care.”
Heather stood on the step as Fina unlocked her car and climbed in.
She’d extinguished a fire, eaten some chocolate, and gotten some intel.
Definitely one for the win column.
FOURTEEN
Pastor Greg sat back in his chair and watched Gabby and their older daughter, Faith, clear the plates from the table. Charity slid off her chair under the table and reappeared at his feet. She climbed onto his lap to snuggle.
“You’re getting so big!” he said.
“I’m three,” the child proclaimed.
Gabby came back into the room and stacked silverware on a plate. She reached across the table, the size of which served as a reminder to Greg that they needed to be fruitful and multiply. His plan was to have kids every two years, but that wasn’t panning out.
“I know. You’re not a baby anymore,” he said. “Who’s going to be our baby?” He tickled the girl’s neck, and she erupted in giggles. He trained his gaze on Gabby.
“Go play so I can talk to Mommy,” Greg said, releasing the little girl from his lap. She scooted out of the room, and Gabby put the stack of dishes back down.
She stared at him. “Don’t start, Greg. I’m tired.”
“That’s why I want you to see Dr. Reilly. Maybe your being tired has something to do with it.”
“I had a physical a few months ago, and the doctor said I was fine.”
“But you’re not fine. If you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
Gabby crossed her arms and glared at him. “Maybe it’s you? Or maybe it’s God’s plan? Maybe he only wants us to have two children.”
Greg smiled and shook his head. “I do not believe that is God’s plan. Two daughters and no sons? No, ma’am.”
“Don’t think you know better than the Lord, Greg. That’ll get you into trouble.” She took the plates to the kitchen.
Greg considered following her, but decided to hold off. Dealing with Gabby required patience and finesse. She was stubborn, and things went better if she believed she was calling the shots.
Instead, he retreated to his study where he could look at scripture with one eye and the TV with the other. When they’d purchased the house, Gabby had hired a designer who’d outfitted the room with reproductions of religious paintings and leather-bound books that had never been read. The velvet couch had thick rolled arms, and a fake Tiffany lamp threw off dappled, colored light. Decorating the room had cost a fortune, but Greg had to admit he loved the finished product. He thought it looked elegant and scholarly, like a place where deep thinking occurred.
Gabby always told the girls that he was busy working after dinner, and sometimes he actually was, but more often, he surfed the Net or watched the Discovery Channel. It wasn’t something he would admit to his parishioners; he wanted them to believe his mind was only concerned with lofty ideas, not souped-up motorcycles or illegal moonshiners in Appalachia.
The doorbell rang, and Greg heard the girls run to answer it. They were at the age when a ringing phone or a knock at the door was exciting and promising, not the signal of someone needing something. He switched off the TV and picked up a pen. The girls’ voices carried from the hallway, and a moment later, Lucas Chellew stood on the threshold of the study.
“Pastor Greg, I got your message that you wanted to see me.”
“Come in, Lucas. I hope it wasn’t any trouble to stop by.”
“Not at all, but I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re in the middle of something.”
Greg smiled and moved to the couch. “Just working on my sermon, but that can wait. Nothing’s more important than my congregants.”
Gabby poked her head into the room. “Would you like something to drink, Lucas? I’ve got coffee and tea, and we’ve got some of those cream cheese brownies that you like.”
Lucas exhaled loudly. “I’m feeling sorely tested by the offer. I do love those brownies, but I’ve been trying to watch my diet.”
“Why don’t you bring us some, Gab,” Greg said. “It’s okay to indulge once in a while,” he said to Lucas with a smile. “We’re only human.”
Sitting down at the opposite end of the couch, Lucas adjusted himself on the cushions. Greg watched him. The pastor had learned that people paid more attention when he was still and deliberate with his motions. Fidgeting brought to mind small children who had little self-control.
“Was there something in particular you wanted to discuss, Pastor?” Lucas asked.
Gabby arrived with a tray bearing two cups of coffee and a plate of brownies.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Greg said, sending her on her way. “I just wanted to touch base with you about Nadine’s death. How are you doing?”
Lucas stirred a spoonful of sugar into his coffee. He broke off half a brownie and took a bite from the half that had the thicker layer of cream cheese on top. It was rare to have Pastor Greg’s undivided attention, and he was making the most of it.
“Like everyone else, I was shocked by her death. I still don’t believe it.”
Greg nodded. He sipped his black coffee and leaned toward Lucas. “It’s hard to process a sudden death, to make sense of the Lord’s plan.”
“I feel so badly for her family. Even when your children are grown, they’re still your babies.”
Greg nodded. “Losing a child is a terrible burden, no matter the child’s age.”
“Has the funeral been planned?”
“Gabby and I visited with her family on Thursday. They’re opting for a private funeral and burial.”
“The funeral won’t be at CRC?” Lucas asked.
“We’ll have a memorial for her,” Greg reassured him. Nadine’s family had been vehemently opposed to CRC playing any role in their daughter’s services or burial, but Lucas didn’t need to know that. “The medical examiner’s office has only just released the body so they haven’t made any plans yet.”
Lucas paused with his brownie midway to his mouth. “Why did the medical examiner have her?”
“Her death has been ruled suspicious. Didn’t you know that?” Greg asked when Lucas stiffened.
“But she was sick.”
“Maybe, but she was also poisoned, according to the detectives.”
“My Lord in heaven,” Lucas murmured.
Greg nodded.
“What does this mean for the church?” Lucas asked.
“We need to pull together. We need to support one another, like we always do.”
“Of course.”
�
��We also need to protect what we’ve worked so hard to build,” Greg said, his voice even. He bit into a brownie.
“Do you think this will hurt the church?” Lucas asked.
Greg shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m concerned. We don’t want to be associated with a scandal.”
“But it’s got nothing to do with us!”
“We know that, Lucas, but other people might assume the worst. We have no choice but to tolerate the police and their intrusions.” Greg shook his head and remained silent.
“But what about that private investigator?” Lucas asked. “She came to see me at work.”
“I’ll admit, she worries me.”
Lucas chewed the remainder of his brownie. He washed it down with some coffee before speaking. “She has no right to interfere with the holy work that we do.”
“I agree.”
“There must be something we can do.”
“We can pray on it,” Greg said, and grasped the other man’s hand. “Why don’t we do that right now?”
Lucas nodded enthusiastically and bowed his head.
“Heavenly Father,” Greg intoned, “please give us the strength and guidance to manage our current predicament. Help us protect your work from those who threaten it and build on what we’ve created in your name. Enable us to spread your love and the good word to those who have not yet seen the light. Amen.” He gave Lucas’s hand a squeeze. “Is there anything I can do for you? How are Heather and the girls?”
“Driving me crazy, Pastor, but what’s new?”
“Just keep guiding them and leading the family. It’s your job, even if they don’t like it.”
“I know. I just wish it weren’t such a trial.”
Greg stood. “How about I have Gabby wrap up the rest of those brownies? Take them home for the family?”
“Goodness, no.” Lucas got up and patted his stomach. “I’ve already had too much. I’m going to keep praying about Nadine, Pastor Greg.”
“I’m glad to hear it. I hope we both get some peace and clarity.”
Greg saw him out and returned to the study.
He regretted eating the brownie, but he knew that indulging might reap benefits, depending upon what Lucas Chellew took from their conversation.
Greg would add an extra mile to his workout and pray for a favorable outcome.
• • •
The next day, Fina tracked down Evan at Nadine’s house in Dorchester. Even though the couple and Molly had been living there as a family since they wed eighteen months earlier, the house remained in Nadine’s name only. It was unusual for just the woman of a couple to have ownership, and Fina thought the status of the family domicile warranted some further investigation.
She rang the bell and spied Evan through the window. He was unpacking books from a box and arranging them on shelves in the living room.
“Is this a bad time?” Fina asked when he opened the door.
“It’s fine, but I need to keep working. I’m trying to finish some stuff up while Molly isn’t here. It’s hard to get much done with her underfoot.”
“I understand.” Fina came in and walked over to the bookcase on the opposite side of the room. Her eye landed on a shelf of cookbooks. “Are you the cook in the family or was that Nadine?”
“I am, although you wouldn’t know it given my five-year-old’s meal of choice.”
“Chicken nuggets?”
“Yup. I try to introduce her to other things, but it’s always a battle.” He dusted off a shelf with a rag. “Is there any news?”
“Not yet. Have the police been in touch?”
“Just to say they have nothing to say.”
“That’s not unusual.” Fina skipped her fingertip across the spines. “It must be nice to be back home.”
Evan shoved a stack of books onto a shelf. “Except that my wife isn’t here.”
“Of course. I meant that it must be comforting to be back in a familiar place with a supportive community. For you and Molly.”
“Absolutely.”
“One less thing to worry about.”
Evan turned and looked at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just what I said. It’s one less thing to worry about in a time of upheaval.”
“This is my house, too, you know.”
“Of course. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
“You’re acting like there’s something strange about moving back home with my daughter.”
“Not at all. I just know that technically, the house belonged to Nadine. I assume you inherit it.”
“You think I killed my wife for the house?”
“It’s been known to happen.”
“You can go now.”
“Did you kill Nadine?”
He gaped at her. “Of course not.”
“Then it shouldn’t bother you if I ask questions to find out who did. The cops must be asking you tough questions. The spouse is always the number one suspect.”
“They are asking me tough questions, which is why I don’t need them from you, too. I know they have to ask, but it doesn’t make it any easier answering them.”
“I understand that. I’m not trying to add to your grief. I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this.”
He balked. “Don’t pretend this is altruistic on your part.”
“It’s not altruistic. I’m being paid to do a job, but I also have serious concerns about the church and the degree to which they use and manipulate their members. If there’s some nefarious stuff going on, don’t you want me to expose it?”
He wiped his hands on the thighs of his pants. “Of course.”
“So can you tell me about Nadine being sick?”
“You can ask the police. I’ve discussed it with them.”
“Evan.”
“That’s just part of your job, right?”
Fina had obviously overstayed her welcome. She walked to the door. “I’m sorry I upset you. I’ll be in touch.”
She replayed the conversation in her head, wondering if she could have come at it differently, thereby getting different results. Irritating Evan hadn’t been her goal, but she didn’t think it could have been helped. Murder was a nasty topic, and the usual conversational protocol just didn’t apply.
If Evan thought his marriage was over, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility that he would try to secure a future for himself and Molly, starting with a great place to live.
People had killed for less.
• • •
Rather than alert Lucas Chellew ahead of time, Fina showed up at Macy’s unannounced, armed with donuts from Dunkin’ Donuts. A saleswoman said he was in a meeting, so Fina spent twenty minutes circulating through the Misses’ department. She liked nice clothes, but wasn’t a fan of shopping and tended to purchase things on an as-needed basis. Patty sometimes gave her hand-me-downs, and more recently, Fina had started shopping online with surprising success. The ability to try on a host of options in the privacy of one’s own home was definitely one of the greatest benefits of the Internet as far as she was concerned.
She was eyeing the scandalously short options in the Juniors’ department when Lucas called to her from across the floor.
Once they were seated in his office, she offered him a donut. There was a moment of hesitation, but then he reached into the bag and pulled out a jelly-filled.
“I owe you my thanks,” he said, licking a drop of jelly from his finger.
“For what?”
“For saving my children from a disaster. If you hadn’t been there, they would have burned down the house.”
“You’re welcome, but I’m sure they would have called 911. Everything would have been fine.”
Lucas shook his head. “I don’t know. They don’t always make very goo
d choices, obviously.”
“It’s hard to resist the siren song of fondue.”
“Well, they won’t make that mistake again.”
Fina didn’t know if this meant that the fondue pot had been retired or the girls had been banned from the kitchen, but at the moment she really didn’t care. She needed to capitalize on Lucas’s current goodwill.
“I was hoping you could clear something up for me,” Fina said. She was enjoying a glazed donut and took a moment to wipe some of the sugary coating off her hand. “I understand that you requested that Nadine Quaynor be removed from the church’s leadership committee. Why was that?”
Lucas sighed and put his donut down on what looked to be an old ad circular. “Fina, I’ve told you. I’m not at liberty to discuss church business with you.”
She smiled. “Of course you are, Lucas. There are no laws forbidding it.”
“I’m not talking about the law; I’m talking about my responsibilities to the church.”
“I would think that your responsibility to the church—to God, even—would be to help expose whoever killed Nadine.”
“But what does that have to do with the leadership committee?”
“It may not have anything to do with it, but do you want to be the reason that Nadine’s killer goes free?” She was laying it on a bit thick, but what did she have to lose?
“I don’t know anything so I couldn’t possibly have any effect on the investigation.”
Fina took another bite and chewed slowly. She finished the donut, crumpled her napkin into a ball, and put it in the empty bag. “I’m surprised you’re protecting Nadine.”
Lucas looked confused. “What do you mean?”
“My understanding was that Nadine was asked to leave the committee because she was interfering with church finances and wanted to intercede in Pastor Greg’s marriage in an inappropriate way. If that were the case, I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to discuss it. It makes me think that something else was going on.” Fina leaned over and dropped the bag into a trash can. “Sorry to interrupt your workday,” she said, rising from her seat.
