by Tonya Kappes
“Let’s face it,” Poppa paused, “I’m fine with people knowing Viola and I had some fun, but others might not be so open to Beryle knowing their story. Now at the end of her life she decided to come clean and let everyone in on who was who in the novels.”
“Plus, most of her plots aren’t really morally acceptable.” I shrugged and parked in the parking lot across from the church.
“We need to write down all the plots and make your mama focus.” Poppa suggested something that no one could do: make Mama do anything.
Preacher Bing crossed the street behind the Wagoneer and stopped in view of my rearview. He bent down and looked into the window and waved. It looked like there was a light on in the office area, which meant someone was there, and I hoped it was Stella. I was pretty good at getting information from her since she got nervous around me in the uniform.
Poppa had already ghosted out of the car and stood next to Preacher Bing.
“His sermons sure could get your heart pumping back in the day.” Poppa referred to Preacher Bing’s young preaching days.
Unfortunately, he didn’t exude so much excitement in his later years. But there was no way the church committee was going to get rid of him. It was the whole loyalty thing.
“Hi, Kenni.” Preacher Bing stood six feet four inches tall. His coal black hair made his pasty white skin and dark eyes stand out.
He’d always scared me, reminding me of Lurch from The Addams Family, and he was just as scary now as when I was a child. There was no way I dared move when I was in church.
“Been a long time since I’ve seen you here.” He clasped his hands, and his deep voice rang out.
“I was just here for the wonderful reception after Duke’s ceremony,” I reminded him.
“I mean for this.” He pointed to his heart. “I do think there has been a lot of stress in your life over the past year with all the crime we’ve been having. I’ve had to do a lot of stress counseling for some of our members.”
There went the Baptist guilt Mama was so good at, but coming from Preacher Bing, it was slapped on thick.
“I understand that with growth in town, there’s more crime, and all of these crimes have been isolated incidents.” I shoved my fists into my coat.
“Is Paige Lemar an isolated incident, or a victim of being in the wrong place at the wrong time?” His thick scary brows lifted up under his strange bangs.
He’d definitely make a good Lurch on Halloween. My thoughts brought back the fear I had of him when I was a kid.
“I guess we’ll have to see when she wakes up.” I sucked in a deep breath.
It sure was hard to get up confidence when a figure of authority your whole life seemed to be taking control of the conversation.
“And that’s why I’m here, sort of.” I tried to offer a nice smile, but he didn’t buy it. He was stone faced.
“Your mama does good work around here. I’d like to see the sheriff’s department contribute.” He wasn’t going to let it go.
“Betty Murphy does a lot for you, I hear.” In fact, Betty contributed her time to count the Sunday collection money and deposit it on Mondays.
“All of the department.” He pointed his open palm toward the church. “Shall we discuss matters inside where it’s warm?”
“That’s great. Because I really need to talk to you about Beryle Stone and what the church has to do with her last wishes.” I walked next to him. “Stella mentioned that some of Beryle’s money was going to charities and the church knew about it.”
“Did she?” His brows dipped and formed a perfect hairy V.
He held the big glass door open for me. I stepped in. There was nothing wrong with the church’s heating system. The heat took my breath away. I peeled off my coat and stuck it up under my arm. I couldn’t help but notice Preacher Bing’s eyes draw down to my gun. Apparently not a fan.
We walked down the hall and entered the door where there was a small plaque on the wall that said “Office.”
Stella was sitting behind the desk filing her fingernails. She quickly shoved the file in her desk and stood up.
“Kenni.” There was surprise on her face.
“Hi, Stella. How are you?” I asked.
“Fine,” she said, stone faced.
“I guess you’ve recovered since the Euchre game?” I asked.
“I’m just fine.” She grabbed some papers off the desk. “Here’re your messages.” She handed them to Preacher Bing.
“Our Euchre night sure could use a good prayer,” I suggested to Preacher Bing. “Some of them women, all who come here, sometimes flat-out lose their religion over a silly little card game. Ain’t that right, Stella?”
“I wouldn’t know.” She shifted uncomfortably. I was getting her goat, since she was the main one who gossiped, and she’d never want Preacher Bing to know. “I don’t participate in such activity.”
“Is that right?” I asked. “Huh.”
Her lips pursed, her nose curled, and her eyes grew big as if she were signaling me to hush.
“Hold all my calls, please.” Preacher Bing walked into the other room in the office that boasted a sign with his name on it. “Kenni.” He stood at the door.
“Good to see you, Stella.” I smiled and walked into Preacher Bing’s office.
He shut the door.
“Can you tell me about those funds? We’re following up on some leads that are confidential, of course.” I gave the aw-shucks look so he wouldn’t question me.
He took his eyes off my sheriff’s uniform. I was glad he saw this was a business call and not a come-to-Jesus meeting.
“You can ask Wally Lamb, but she stated in her will that she wanted only me to be privy to where her money was going since I was her clergy.” He pulled off his black overcoat and hung it on the coat tree next to the door.
“Can you tell me about those funds?” I asked again.
“Yes. There was a private fund.” He walked over to his desk and sat down. He motioned for me to sit in the chair in front of his desk. He clasped his hands and rested them on the desk. “I know you’re going to walk out of here and get a warrant from the judge so I’m going to tell you. She had some art foundations where she was on the board. She was on a lot of boards outside of her life in Cottonwood. And the private fund goes to Hattie. I’m sure you’ve already found out about her.”
I nodded.
“I’m not even sure Darby knows about the funds yet because Wally is still finishing up all the paperwork.”
On the board. Inwardly, I groaned. Art foundations outside of Cottonwood? My mind whirled back to the sex scene with the artist in Crimson Hearts. Did the killer live outside of Cottonwood, hear about the tell-all manuscript, come to look for it, and kill Cecily? That would make finding the killer harder and a lot longer to solve. At least there was a fund for Hattie to be taken care of. Darby will be happy about that.
“You’re thinking what I’m thinking.” Poppa appeared next to Preacher Bing, looking at me. “The list of suspects could be ever so long if Beryle was on all these boards. She could’ve made anyone mad or written about anyone.”
“Did Beryle leave any money to the church?” I asked. “Mama said finances were discussed at the meeting Paige was at before she was attacked.”
“You think that Paige was attacked by someone here?” Preacher Bing asked.
“I’m just covering all the bases,” I stated, not wanting to alarm him. Was he avoiding my question? “Did she leave any money to the church?” I asked again.
“She didn’t.” He looked down at the messages Stella had given him and shuffled through them.
“Are you surprised?” I asked.
“No. She didn’t attend church here for a long time. She was simply comfortable with me handling her death because I was her clergy while she was in Cottonwood,” he sai
d.
I believed him, putting Stella’s idle gossip down to her wanting people to think she knew more than she really did.
“She simply asked me to be in charge of the funds for Hattie in case something ever happened to her.” He continued,
“Beryle came to me years ago with a heavy heart about what had gone on with Hattie. We prayed, and I helped her cope. It was then that I agreed to take the money she’d send in an envelope and deposit it into the fund she set up at the bank. Stella thinks it’s Beryle’s tithe and should only be handled by me.” His chest rose with each deep breath.” He looked at me. “Now, if you don’t mind, I need to get these messages returned.” He put the messages on his desk next to his phone. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Thank you, but I think I have all I need. I appreciate you letting me know.” I walked back to the door. “Bye.”
“Kenni, it sure would be nice to see you in the front row with your mama.” He had to go there.
“Thank you.” I waved and shut the door behind me.
Stella was hunched over a grocery-store crossword puzzle.
“See ya, Kenni,” she said after she looked up.
“Have a good day,” I said and found my way outside of the church right before my cell rang.
It was Finn.
“Hey, Finn.” I pinned the phone between my ear and shoulder, digging in my pocket for the keys to the Wagoneer.
“She’s awake,” he whispered.
“Huh?” I grabbed the phone and held it tight to my ears.
“Paige Lemar is awake and she’s talking. Lonnie won’t let me in.” He said the words I’d feared.
“On my way.” I hit the off button and jumped into the Jeep.
I grabbed the beacon with one hand and rolled the window down with the other. I licked the suction cup, flipped on the switch, slapped it on the roof, and threw the Jeep in gear.
Chapter Twenty-One
“Kenni, she’s sensitive.” Lonnie tried to stop me at the door when he saw me walking into the Intensive Care Unit. He had his palms flat out to me. “She’s tired.”
“Tired?” I asked, knowing it sounded insensitive. “She’s been sleeping for a couple of days. I’m sure she can answer some simple questions. You know I have that right.”
Myrna Savage must’ve been the Sweet Adeline chosen to stand vigil for this particular time. She was patting Paige’s hand when I looked into the room.
“I want her to rest. I almost lost her.” Lonnie’s voice cracked. He looked down and shook his head. His finger lifted. He pointed at me. “You upset her and you’re gone,” he warned.
There was no way I was going to give him a chance to change his mind; I pushed past him. The reserve officer and Finn stood at the sliding glass door to Paige’s room. The curtains on both sides were pulled back. There were a couple of nurses next to her bed.
“Kenni.” Paige’s voice was soft. “I don’t know what to say.”
One nurse had Paige sitting forward while the other nurse was behind her fluffing her pillows. Dr. Camille Shively was sitting next to Paige on the hospital bed and talking to her. Paige’s color in her cheeks looked good, though there were dark half-moon shapes under her eyes. Her hair was covered by white bandages.
“Kenni, really?” Camille asked with a bit of disgust in her voice.
“You don’t have to say anything, Paige.” I walked over and patted her hand, ignoring Camille. “Can you tell me what you remember?” I asked. “Anything? Anyone? Why you were there?”
Paige looked at Camille.
“If you want to answer the questions, you can, but you don’t have to,” Camille told her. “I don’t want you to have a setback.”
She squinted her eyes as though she was trying to process what Camille was saying.
“I’ll try.” Paige’s voice was weak and it cracked.
“Take your time. You were hit over the head with an ax,” I said, trying to comfort her. I really wanted her to trust me and tell me what she remembered.
“Cecily?” She gulped.
“She died.” There was no sense in sugar-coating it. Paige was going to have to face it eventually. “Finn and I heard Duke barking at the killer and rushed over to the shop, and that’s when we found you.”
“Killer?” she asked, bringing her hands to her face. She began to sob. “Oh my gosh.”
Lonnie rushed to her side and sat down on the bed. He put his hands on top of hers. He turned his head toward me.
“That’s enough, Kenni.” Displeasure showed on his face. “She can’t take anymore today.”
“It’s okay.” Paige brought her hands down. Tears flowed down her face. “I’d gotten a call from Cecily; she asked me to meet her at the shop. I’d been working all day at the Inn and I had my church meeting. I left early because Cecily had called me frantic.”
“What did she say?” I asked.
“Something about a tell-all book, and she thought it was in the shop and that she had to get it or lives would be changed forever.” She looked down at her fingertips. “I remember walking down there because I’d parked my car in that area. When I got there, she was inside the storage room. Then…” Her jaw dropped, her eyes darting around the room. “I can’t remember.”
“That must’ve been the time of the attack.” Lonnie rubbed her arm. “You did good, honey. You need to rest. You might remember more later.”
“We found Cecily outside the shop and you inside next to a piece of furniture.” I wasn’t going to just leave my questioning, I was going to try to get everything I could out of her. “Did you know Cecily before she came here?”
“No. Well, I knew of her from Beryle. I guess I should tell you that Beryle and I were friends.” More tears streamed down her face. Lonnie wiped them from her cheek.
“Shh.” He encouraged her to stop talking.
“That’s probably enough for one day,” Camille said in a stern voice.
“Have you found Cecily’s killer?” Paige asked, looking around Camille.
“No.” I wanted to make up excuses. “There aren’t a lot of leads, but Cecily’s hair was found on the ax.”
Paige’s eyes popped open. There was a deep-rooted fear in them.
“What?” Lonnie asked. “Are you okay?”
“I remember something.” She put her hand palm down on the top of the bandage on her head. “When we were in the storage room, I told Cecily that I didn’t think there was a tell-all and tried to calm her down because Beryle never said a word to me about it.” She hesitated and looked off into the distance as though the memory was playing in her head. “I glanced over Cecily’s shoulder, and I remember seeing a man. Tall. Dirty.” She dragged her eyes to mine. Her mouth opened, her eyes dipped, and tears poured down her face. She gulped. “Sterling Stinnett.”
Paige fell back on her pillow, sobbing. Lonnie wrapped his arms around her and rested his head on her chest. He took one arm from around her and stuck it out to me.
Myrna jumped to her feet and grabbed a wet washrag. Lonnie backed away and Myrna rubbed the cloth down Paige’s face.
“Enough for today.” His stern voice told me that I’d overstayed my welcome.
I nodded. Sterling Stinnett. He was tall. He was mysterious. And he liked to stay in the shadows. Now that I thought about it, he fit the description of the shadowy figure in the video from Kim’s Buffet security tape. But a killer? Had he been a character in one of Beryle’s novels?
Camille and I headed out into the hallway. Just as I was sliding the glass doors shut, Lonnie pushed back.
He pointed for me to go over to the nurses’ station, and both Finn and I followed.
“If you don’t find Sterling Stinnett before I get my hands on that S.O.B., I’ll kill him,” Lonnie said through his gritted teeth.
“Listen, Lonnie. Yo
u and I both know Sterling. He’d never hurt a fly.” I couldn’t imagine the Sterling doing anything to hurt a soul. In fact, Sterling always kept a good eye out and reported anything fishy. “But I’ll go find him and see what he knows.”
“He worked for Beryle too.” Lonnie’s brows shot up. “He did all of their family’s landscaping and,” his voice was joined by Poppa’s, “when Beryle left town, he didn’t have a job anymore and became a bum.” Poppa and Lonnie spoke the exact same words at the same time.
“I’ll let you know.” I put a hand on Lonnie’s arm. “You take care of her and yourself. Now that she’s awake, you go down to the cafeteria for some food.”
Lonnie had lost a few pounds over the past couple of days. I could tell by how gaunt his face looked.
“Let me know,” he said, his words stern. “Kenni, I appreciate it.”
It was the first time that he’d actually given me a vote of confidence since Paige had been attacked.
“Thank you. Take care. I’ll be back.” I curled my lips together in a tight smile.
“Kenni, seriously.” Camille lifted her elbow and rested it on the counter of the nurses’ station. “Paige is weak. She’s got a major contusion on her head. Her brain is no longer swollen, but her state of mind is definitely fragile. I can’t under any circumstances give you full permission to question her. It has to be on her time, at least not until I release her to go home.”
I put my hands in the air.
“Fine, but I’ve got a murder to solve, and she’s a key witness.” I waved over the reserve officer. “Be sure you or another officer stays here all the time.”
He nodded.
To Camille, I said, “Please let dispatch know when you decide to release Paige, because I can’t guarantee that whoever tried to kill her won’t come back to finish the job.” I tried to maintain curtness, but I needed Camille to know the severity of the situation. “While I have you here, can you tell me if you’ve seen Beryle Stone while she was in town?”
“I did. But not in the capacity you think,” she said.
“You went to give her an update on Hattie?” I asked.
