“Who else was Roxy connected to?” Beatrix interjected, drawing both Hattie’s and Dan’s attention to where she was standing behind the counter.
Dan looked at Hattie and back at Beatrix. With confusion in his voice, he asked, “What do you mean?”
Beatrix came over to the table. She stood at the edge. “Let’s assume that Tucker wouldn’t just blab about a big case. Let’s assume that if he was telling Roxy, it was for a reason. He had to have known she was a talker. Clearly, Tucker was letting enough slip that it would get out. If he really didn’t want you to run the story, then he was hoping the information was making it to someone else.”
“Who is the someone else?” Hattie asked mostly to herself. Turning to Beatrix, she commended the girl. “You are definitely smarter than your years.”
“I read a lot of mysteries.”
“Well then,” Dan said, looking lost in thought. “Since we don’t know who that might be, why do you think he’d share it?”
“Maybe to make someone nervous,” Beatrix speculated. “If Tucker was really watching the parish, maybe he wanted to see how they’d react if they knew someone was digging around and getting close. People mess up when they feel cornered.”
“Or they strike back,”Dan said as realization struck him all at once.
As eye-opening as this conversation was, Hattie still didn’t understand something. Looking at Dan she asked, “Why are the cops searching you?”
“I guess they suspect I’m involved somehow. They said something about Roxy having my contact info and my number being in her phone, which is all true. But I didn’t kill her. In fact, depending on when she was killed, I was with Harper at dinner last night.”
“Understood,” Hattie said. “I’m still not sure how I can help you, but I know Harper has been looking into some things. Let me talk it over with her, and maybe we can all get together at some point.”
Dan agreed. He pulled out a few dollars to pay for coffee but Hattie refused. Dan said he’d be in touch and got up and left.
Turning to Beatrix, Harper said, “I guess we are going to have to postpone that protection spell one more night.”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“I told you at some point you’d be begging to have me in your room. I just didn’t think it would be this fast,” Jackson teased as Harper pulled him by the arm up the stairs.
Harper rolled her eyes at him. “That is most definitely not why I dragged you up here. I was doing some research on Fr. McNally. I think I found something interesting. I want to show you.”
“I see,” Jackson said dryly, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I was hoping for a little bit different show and tell.”
“What has gotten into you?” Harper asked, crinkling up her nose at him. “You’re all flirty all of a sudden, and we have work to do.”
Harper went to her desk and started rifling through papers. Jackson sat down in the chair and gave Sparkle and Shine, who had tagged along, a good rub behind their ears. He said to the dogs loud enough for Harper to hear him, “We can’t be flirting with the lady now. We have work to do. But what do you think, kids, once we solve the murder maybe I can take her to dinner and a movie?”
Harper barely registered what Jackson said. She was looking through the pages she had printed off to find the exact article that raised her suspicions. While Harper did that, the dogs wiggled around under Jackson’s playful petting. He pulled dog bones from his pocket and gave one to each.
Harper found the pages and watched him. Nick always hated animals. Watching Jackson play with her aunt’s dogs was sweet to watch. Walking over to him, Harper held out the pages and asked eagerly, “Look at that photo. Does that look like the Fr. McNally we know?”
Jackson stopped with the dogs who plopped down at his feet. He took the pages and studied them carefully. Harper watched to see if she could gauge his reaction. The photos were of Fr. McNally from just more than two years ago when he first started his work at a school in Rio de Janeiro.
Jackson looked up at Harper and back down at the page. He said with hesitation in his voice, “I’m not sure. It looks like it could be Fr. McNally, but he seems much heavier here so his face looks quite different and body frame doesn’t appear to be the man next door. Maybe the difference is he’s just lost weight?” Jackson suggested, and then looked to Harper for explanation.
“I thought about that,” Harper admitted. Then pointing at the photo, she said, “Look at his eyes and nose though. His eyes here are wide-set and rounder. His nose is a bit full as well. The man next door, his eyes are more close-set and almond-shaped, and his nose is thinner. Weight gain or loss isn’t going to change that.”
“That’s true.” Jackson studied the photo again. “I wish we had a side by side comparison. Did you find any current photos of Fr. McNally?”
“No,” Harper said with a satisfying grin. “That’s the other weird thing. The parish doesn’t have a photo of him on their website like other parishes do with their priests. Even in all the celebrations welcoming Fr. McNally, he’s escaped getting his photo taken.”
“That is weird. What do you think…?”
Before Jackson could finish his thought, Harper interrupted, “I called around and found an interesting nugget of information. The Catholic Diocese of Little Rock is without a bishop at the moment, which is usually the priest that would oversee the local parishes. The last bishop took ill suddenly and was close to retirement age so they relieved him of his responsibilities so he could get the care he needs. They didn’t have an immediate replacement. That coupled with the shortage of priests and ongoing Catholic church scandals, the Little Rock diocese has been without local oversight for a few months. This could have easily left Fr. McNally unchecked.”
“How did you find that out?” Jackson asked as his phone rang. He took his cellphone out of his pocket, looked quick, grimaced and sent the call to voicemail. Jackson looked back up at Harper, giving her his full attention.
Harper didn’t ask who the call was from. For some reason, she assumed it was his ex. She sat down in the chair across from Jackson and explained, “When I was searching for information today, I called the St. Joseph’s parish pretending to be a donor. I wanted to see if I could get a little background on Fr. McNally. During the call I asked who the local bishop was overseeing the diocese. The woman that answered the phone explained the situation and that the diocese was without one right now. Then I found some older news on the parish website explaining the leave of absence.”
“Did you find out more about Fr. McNally though?” Jackson asked.
“No, I was routed to a donor relations staff person and got voicemail. I didn’t leave a message.” Harper wished she could read Jackson’s expression. He was sitting there with his legs crossed, ankle to knee and staring at her with a look of amazement.
Jackson picked up the papers again. He took a few more minutes to study them. “What are you saying though? That the guy next door isn’t really this priest?”
“Maybe,” she said and then more hesitantly, “I’m not sure. You would think the church would know who he is, right? Maybe before we make any wild claims, we need to really dig into the background of Fr. McNally and see what we get.”
“How does this connect to Tucker’s murder though?” Jackson asked.
“I don’t know that it does, but Tucker was by all accounts digging into what was happening at the parish, and it’s the best lead we have so far.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
A few hours later, Harper was standing in the kitchen making dinner. Jackson was sprawled out on the couch in the living room with the television on. Last Harper checked on him, Jackson was asleep. The scene was entirely too domestic for her, and Harper wasn’t sure what she was feeling. But Hattie would be home from the shop soon, and Harper wanted to make sure she had a nice dinner given the events of the previous evening.
As she cooked dinner, Harper took quick glances at the day’s news
paper. Local reports had an extensive report on the recent jewelry heists with photos of some of the missing jewels. Harper admired a gorgeous emerald ring that had diamonds around it. It was in a platinum setting. There were also ruby earrings and diamond bracelets and necklaces. The thieves really targeted the right houses, Harper thought. The newspaper said there were no suspects to date.
Harper was just putting the salad and chicken pesto pasta on the table when Hattie arrived. Harper called for Jackson. He padded into the kitchen, rubbing his eyes from sleep. Hattie gave him a once over and smiled, “I’m glad you’re so comfortable here.”
“I didn’t mean to doze off. It’s been a long day,” Jackson said with a hint of embarrassment in his voice.
Hattie waved her hand at him, dismissing his concern. “I barely made it at the shop all day. I don’t think any of us got much sleep last night. Harper said you’re going to stay here, and I’m grateful for that.”
Harper spooned out generous helpings of salad and pasta for each of them. She was just about to take a bite when the front doorbell rang. With the dogs at her feet, she got up to answer it.
Hattie raised her eyebrows in a question, and Harper explained, calling over her shoulder, “I didn’t fill you in, but I found something today. I needed to call Det. Granger, but that was hours ago. He must have had a busy day. I assume that’s him.”
Harper went to the door and looked out. It was Granger. He apologized for showing up so late. Then he said inquisitively, “You said you found something of interest in the woods. Related to the break-in?”
Harper led Granger back into the kitchen. He said hello to Hattie and Jackson. Harper offered him some dinner, but he declined. She went to the side counter and pulled out both bags. Handing them over to the detective, Harper explained, “The first is what I believe is the screwdriver Jackson saw the guy last night carrying. Right near there, I found this key chain with the letter D. They were both found up in the woods, same path the guy took last night.”
Det. Granger examined them through the bags. “Your fingerprints on these?”
Pointing to the key chain, Harper said, “I picked that up without realizing what it was, so yes. The screwdriver just the pointed end. I didn’t touch the handle.”
“You have no proof though the guy was carrying these. It could have been in the woods for a while,” Det. Granger countered, turning over the bags looking at the evidence.
“True,” Harper conceded. “But I thought it better to grab them and bring them to you than not. Did you ever get a chance to check on the pregnant girl over in the parish building?”
“No, not yet. We had people here early this morning, questioning their staff about Roxy, but I never made it over. I was going to do that while I was here now.” Setting the bags down on the counter, Granger added, “Mind keeping this until I go check next door? I’ll grab them when I come back through.”
Det. Granger went out the porch door. Harper sat back down to eat. Jackson nodded his head towards Hattie. “You should tell Hattie what you found?”
Hattie put down her fork and her eyes opened wide in interest.
Harper chewed a bite of salad. “I don’t want to say anything to Granger because I’m not sure what I’m looking at, but I found some photos of Fr. McNally from years ago when he was working in Brazil. It doesn’t look like the same man as next door.”
“What does that mean?” Hattie asked with interest.
“I don’t know,” Harper said honestly. “It could mean nothing. He lost weight. He looks different or maybe it’s not really Fr. McNally. I want to dig into his background more to see what I can come up with.”
The three ate in silence. Harper was lost in thought speculating what it could mean and just how strange the whole thing was. Nearly thirty minutes later, as they were finishing the last of their dinner, Det. Granger was back. He looked to Harper and asked with confusion in his voice, “Are you sure about what you saw?”
“I’m one hundred percent sure. I’d stake my life on it,” Harper insisted. “Why?”
Det. Granger leaned back against the counter. “There’s no pregnant girl down there. There’s not much of anything down there.”
“No suitcases and boxes?” Harper asked, thoroughly perplexed. She saw it with her own eyes.
“No, nothing,” Granger insisted. “I didn’t search the entire area, but it’s pretty wide open. Fr. McNally brought me down there without hesitation. I gave it a quick look. He said he doesn’t know anything about a pregnant girl, and there was no one meeting that description at his residence or anywhere at the parish.”
Harper was frustrated. She said angrily, “I don’t know what the hell is going on over there, but I saw a pregnant girl go down there last night with her suitcase like she was staying. Today, I saw a man who said he was Fr. McNally’s brother bring down several suitcases and boxes.”
“His brother?” Granger asked with interest.
“After I came back from my walk in the woods, I saw a man bringing suitcases down there so I walked over, pretending I took a wrong turn. He said his name was Evan and Fr. McNally’s brother. He wasn’t very talkative, but looked like Fr. McNally so I didn’t question it.”
“Well there’s no brother, no pregnant girl and no suitcases now,” Granger said. He breathed out. “Listen, I’ll come back. I’m spread thin right now. I’ll send a car by occasionally to keep an eye on things. With Roxy’s and Tucker’s murders and this jewelry theft case, we are working around the clock. I can tell you my investigators found nothing suspicious this morning.”
He looked to Jackson and Hattie and then back at Harper. “Between us, I’m not making any headway on any of the cases.”
“I heard y’all searched Dan Barnes office and home today. Find anything?” Hattie asked, taking a sip of her drink.
“You know I can’t tell you that,” Granger said with a faint smile. “But no, we didn’t find a darn thing. He’s not telling us something, that’s for sure. I don’t know what it is though.”
Jackson perked up at that. “You think he’s dangerous?”
Granger crossed his arms. “I can’t say. He knew both Roxy and Tucker. Dan had several public fights with Tucker, but he insists it was over a story. It seems unlikely he’d kill someone over a story, but stranger things have happened. We didn’t find anything suspicious in Dan’s house or office to tie him to the murders. We don’t even have a good suspect yet.”
Harper walked back over and picked up the smaller of the two bags. “The D key chain,” she said, turning directly to look at Hattie. “You don’t think this is Dan’s do you?”
“No,” Hattie insisted. “I can’t imagine why Dan would have any need to break into this house. He was just at my shop today, telling me about Roxy and that the police were searching his place. Why come and tell me if he’s the culprit?”
“Maybe he’s trying to gain your trust to see how much you already know,” Det. Granger offered. “Criminals will do that. Did Dan ask you any strange questions?”
“No, nothing strange. I think he and I are both confused though as to why Tucker would disclose anything about his investigation to Roxy.”
“That seems to be the question of the hour,” Det. Granger confided absently. Then clearly frustrated, he added, “Everyone keeps talking about this investigation, but we have no information about it at all. No one can even confirm Tucker was looking into anything. We went through his files at home and at his office including all his computers. There’s nothing. Unless we get a confirmation from someone with something credible, I think we have to conclude that it’s another dead end, so to speak.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
The next morning Hattie was sitting in the kitchen sipping coffee and feeling a bit nervous and jittery. The caffeine probably wasn’t helping, but she had another night of fitful sleep and needed the boost.
The previous night as Hattie was getting ready for bed, she thought back to her conversation with Dan. He ha
d pressed Hattie for what she knew. Dan also knew Roxy had talked to her, but wouldn’t disclose how he knew that. Hattie hadn’t wanted to make Det. Granger more suspicious about Dan, but the exchange had been strange. Dan had shared information with Hattie so she chalked it up to him digging on a case. Hattie hoped it wasn’t more than that.
“Hattie, my dear, you look completely lost in thought,” Beau said as he suddenly appeared in the kitchen. He looked the way he did in his last year of life. He was gray like Hattie and wrinkles blanketed his face. Beau had on the comfortable green cardigan sweater he always wore.
Hattie smiled at him and said wryly, “I’m sure if you’ve been watching you know we are in over our heads.”
Beau sat his ghostly presence across the table from her. “I do. I shooed the dogs into action last night to scare off the intruder and then I spooked the guy in the woods. The screwdriver and key chain are his. I saw Harper find them.”
“Thank you for keeping watch. Did you see who he was?” Hattie asked as she got up and poured herself some more coffee. She added extra milk and grabbed a blueberry muffin from a tin on the counter.
“I saw him, but I don’t know who he is. If I saw him in a picture, I could identify him. It wasn’t the priest next door if that’s what you’re curious about,” Beau explained.
“I’ll have to get some photos and show you,” Hattie offered. “Not that I’ll know how to explain if you identify him. I can’t really say my dead husband made the identification.”
Beau stood and went to look out the back window. He added, “That priest is strange. There was a pregnant girl. Harper really did see that. I was out there when Harper was. And I was standing in the living room last night and overheard that detective explain that there was no girl. But she was there. I saw her, too. I don’t know where she is now.”
Saints & Sinners Ball Page 14
