“Aiden,” I said, “it’s the woman from the wedding yesterday.”
“What woman?” His voice was sharp.
I knew he wasn’t trying to be harsh with me. He was only seeking information. Even so, I flinched at his tone.
“I’m sorry, Bailey,” he said. “Who is she?”
“It was the woman in the tropical dress.” I paused. “And Aiden, I think she might have been murdered. The back of her head has a huge gash, like she was slashed or something.” I took a breath. “What if that man who gave her a ride killed her?”
“We don’t know that’s what happened,” Aiden said, fully awake now. “We don’t know anything about how she might have died. You shouldn’t blame yourself.”
Maybe I shouldn’t blame myself, but I did. I blamed myself for the entire situation.
“Good Lord!” a voice cried at the top of the church steps where I had left the woman. I looked up and saw the janitor, Sal, staring down at the body with his mouth hanging open. He was in his seventies, and Aiden said he had been the janitor at the church for as long as anyone remembered. Reverend Brook didn’t want to let him go, so he hired a group of young Amish women to clean the building once a week. All the janitor really did was unlock the church on Sunday mornings and make sure the furnace or air conditioning was on inside, depending on the season. Sal gaped at the woman. “She’s dead!”
I still had Aiden on the phone, and he yelled into my ear. “Who’s that? What’s he saying to you?”
“It’s Sal,” I said. “He just unlocked the front door of the church and found the woman there.”
Sal stared down at me. “Did you kill her?”
“I did no such thing!” I couldn’t help but feel offended by his question. “I don’t even know who she is.”
“I don’t know who she is either, but she is certainly dead. My God, that is a lot of blood. You will excuse my language on a Sunday, but that’s the truth. Looks to me as if she has quite a cut on the back of her head, too, like it was made with a sword even.”
I frowned. A sword? I didn’t think there were any medieval knights in Amish country. “Thanks, Sal.”
“I’m in my car,” Aiden said. I could hear the sirens from his SUV going at full blast. “I’ll be there in five minutes. Don’t leave the scene. Don’t touch anything, and don’t let Sal touch anything either.”
“I know the drill,” I said.
He sighed. “I know you do. I hate that. I’m going to call the department. Are you all right? Do you need me to stay on the line?”
“Do what you need to do, Aiden,” I said. “I’m fine.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I glanced at the woman’s broken body. “Hurry if you can.”
When I hung up the phone I noticed that Sal was bent over the woman. I hurried back up the steps. “Move back,” I told him. “That’s a police order.”
“Are you the police now?” Sal asked.
“No, but I was just on the phone with Aiden, who is, and he said not to touch anything.”
“I wasn’t touching her,” Sal said, seeming shocked by my words.
I sighed. “Fine, but you don’t want to get anything on the body. That might link you with the crime.”
Sal gulped and took a big step back. “I didn’t kill anyone. I don’t even know who that is.” He paused. “Wait! Is that the woman who yelled at the minister in the middle of the wedding? My, that was a scene, wasn’t it? I thought that Reverend Brook was going to faint dead away.”
I had thought the same thing, but I didn’t say so. Instead, I asked, “You were at the wedding?”
“ ’Course I was at the wedding. Who else was going to clean everything up when the ceremony was over?” He sniffed.
Not you, I thought.
“Not those Amish girls the minister thinks help me clean the church. I am the one with the janitor badge and have been for thirty-four years.” He puffed out his chest to show me the brass janitor badge.
“I can see that,” I said. “I still think it’s best if we don’t stand right over the body like this.”
“We’re going to have to do something about this mess.” He wrinkled his puglike nose. “There’s a bloodstain on the church steps. I won’t be able to get that out of the concrete. There’s a blood mark on the church now.”
“We can consult with the police about it. They know people who have ways to remove stains like this.” I knew, because I had seen it done before, when I discovered another dead body in the kitchen of Swissmen Sweets. There had been blood in the grout in the tile floor, and the specialized cleaning crew had been able to get it out. I hoped the same would be true for the church. I bit my lip and wondered if I should call Juliet to tell her. Would it be better for Aiden to reach the scene first?
Just then, I heard a high-pitched Southern voice call out behind me. “What on earth is going on?”
Apparently, I didn’t have to decide.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Juliet and her new husband hurried across the parking lot toward the front door of the church. Usually, the minister went into the building through the back door, which was closer to his office, but they must have seen all the commotion and opted to enter from the front of the church instead.
The minister had lived alone in the parsonage on a side street off the square for as long as he worked at the church, and now it was where he and Juliet would live together. I hated to think this was what they would find on their first morning as husband and wife.
I steeled myself, knowing I would have to be the one to tell Juliet about the latest tragedy at the church. At least this death had not taken place inside the building, but I didn’t think the reverend would see that as a stroke of luck.
Jethro trotted along behind the couple as if he didn’t have a care in his piggy world. Now that Juliet was married to the reverend, would Jethro become a bit like a church mascot? Juliet had always been involved in the church. She was in charge of a quilting group and a member of the choir, and she was always the go-to person to help Reverend Brook no matter what was happening with the congregation. None of those roles would change now that she was the pastor’s wife. In fact, she might have even more responsibilities, but I knew Juliet would revel in the opportunity. This was what she’d wished for so long. I was happy that her wish would finally be fulfilled.
“Reverend Brook—” I stepped in his path. “There’s been an accident of some sort.”
He tried to peek around me. “What kind of accident? Did someone fall?”
That was one way to describe it.
“Not exactly. I just found a woman at the church door.” I paused. “She’s dead.”
“Oh no.” The blood drained from Reverend Brook’s face. “Is that . . . it can’t be . . .” He walked up three steps and froze. Clearly, it was the person he was hoping not to see.
“That’s the woman who interrupted our wedding,” Juliet exclaimed. She scooped up Jethro and held the pig close to her chest. “Bailey, what on earth happened? Did she fall and break her neck? How can that be?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know. I came to the church this morning as you asked me, to make sure everything was clean before the morning services, and I found her . . .”
“Wait,” Sal said at the bottom of the steps. “You asked her to check that the church was clean? It’s my job to clean the church.” He folded his arms. “First you hire a bunch of Amish girls to clean and now you send some candy maker to check the church. The old pastor would never have insulted me like this.”
I ignored Sal and went on. “I called Aiden. He and some more deputies are on the way.”
“Good. Reverend Brook, please come down the steps,” Juliet said, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder. “It will be too painful to see.”
He nodded and walked down the steps. “Yes, dear. I think I’m in shock.”
Juliet nodded. “Of course you are. You tried to help that poor woman and look what’
s happened. Please know it’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
Reverend Brook looked back at Sal and me at the top of the steps. “In a way, it is my fault. If I’m right, I’m responsible.”
I desperately wanted to ask the minister what he meant by that.
Sal clicked his tongue. “They aren’t married even five minutes and the little woman is already calling the shots. Let me tell you, now that the reverend has a wife, things are going to change around the church. I have seen it before. When a woman gets her claws into a man, everything changes. My ex tried to make that happen to me, too, but I’m made of stronger stuff.”
“Sal,” Reverend Brook said. “That’s enough. I will kindly remind you that Juliet is my wife and should be treated with respect, as all women should be treated with respect.”
Juliet’s eyes shone as she looked at her husband. I could doubt a good many things in this life. I could not doubt that she loved the reverend, despite the fact that a woman who’d accused him of being a traitor in the middle of his wedding ceremony lay dead on the church doorstep.
Sirens approached. Aiden and his team would be here any moment, which meant that soon I could get out of the middle of the awkward conversation between the janitor and the pastor. I left them standing at the base of the church steps as the police cars pulled up.
Aiden jumped out of his SUV just as the tires settled in the gravel parking lot. “Bailey,” he began. Then he stopped short. “You called them?” I knew “them” meant his mother and Reverend Brook.
“No one called us,” Juliet said, coming to my side. “We just came to the church a bit early because there were a few things the reverend wanted to get done before we left on our honeymoon. I can’t believe this is happening. We just got married,” Juliet said. There were tears in her eyes.
I hadn’t seen Juliet this upset since Jethro went missing for a few days last fall. But then again, this was a dead woman, who’d accused Juliet’s husband of being a traitor, lying on the steps of the church where he was the pastor. She had every reason to be upset, and then some.
She swallowed. “How can I be so horrible? The poor woman is dead. And the situation is even worse because Reverend Brook tried to help her.” She held on to her husband’s arm. “You tried so hard to help her.”
Reverend Brook was looking a little green.
“Oh, my dear.” She touched his face. “She was a troubled young woman. None of this is your fault.”
Aiden watched his stepfather closely. I wished I could hear the thoughts that must be going through his head.
“Reverend,” Aiden said. “Is this Leeza?”
Reverend Brook looked at the woman. “It is, and it’s my fault that she’s dead.”
CHAPTER NINE
Aiden folded his arms. “I think it’s time for you to tell me what was going on with Leeza. Now that’s she’s dead, your pastoral confidentiality doesn’t apply.”
Juliet placed a hand on the reverend’s arm. “You can tell him, Simon. I know that it’s hard to break your confidence, but you will be helping poor Leeza now if you share what you know with Aiden.”
Reverend Brook pressed his hands together as if in prayer, and then he glanced at Sal. Juliet seemed to get the hint and said, “Sal, let’s go in the back way through the church to make sure everything is ready for our service.” She was already an exemplary pastor’s wife.
“You’re still planning to have church, then?” Sal asked. “With a dead woman on the doorstep? I’m not sure that’s wise.”
Reverend Brook straightened up. “Yes, nothing can get in the way of the worship of our Lord. We will have the congregation come in the back way. It will be a good opportunity to pray for Leeza and her family.”
Juliet beamed at him as he spoke.
Sal shook his head, as if it were the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard. He followed Juliet around the side of the building as the crime scene techs swarmed around Leeza’s body.
“Did she come to you at the church for help?” Aiden asked.
Reverend Brook shook his head. “No, I met her at the Holmes County Community Hall.”
I frowned. All I knew about the hall was that it was a place to rent for events. It was popular for wedding receptions and baby showers. “At a party?” I asked.
“No.” He took a breath. “Compassion for Crisis meets there once a week, and I’ve been volunteering for the last several months.”
“Compassion for Crisis?” I asked.
He glanced at me. If Reverend Brook thought it was odd to find me poking my nose in on Aiden’s interview, he didn’t say anything. Neither did Aiden, for that matter. I didn’t know if it was a good or bad sign that they took for granted I was there and looking for answers. I think it certainly said something about what my life in Amish country had been like.
“It’s a nonprofit that’s been around for a few years. The purpose of the organization is to provide counseling for people in crisis. The group approached me last year to see if I would be willing to give some of my time. I believed it was a good chance to reach out to the community.”
“Is it for the Amish?” I asked, remembering there were other nonprofit groups in the county that helped Amish people who left the faith assimilate to English life. I wondered if it was former Amish who went to Compassion for Crisis. But then again, Leeza had most certainly not appeared to be Amish.
“It’s for anyone. Participants can be Amish or English,” the minister said. “But most of them have been English. I haven’t counseled any Amish people.” He took a breath. “There are five or six counselors who volunteer for the program on a weekly basis. No one needs to make an appointment to meet with us. A struggling soul can just walk in and we will do our very best to help him or her.”
“What is the goal of the appointments?” Aiden asked. “Are you counseling one person for a long time?”
Reverend Brook shook his head. “No, most of the time we’re directing people to resources they don’t know are available to them, either for free or through their medical insurance companies. Many times, when people are in crisis, they doesn’t know where to begin. We help with that. We aren’t long-term counselors, but we can set them on a course to get the long-term help they may need.”
“What was Leeza seeing you for?” Aiden asked.
The minister pressed his lips together, and again, I thought he wasn’t going to answer Aiden’s question. He took a breath. “I met Leeza at the end of April. She came in on a busy night, and I was the only counselor available, having just finished up with another client. When I saw her, she’d definitely had a little too much to drink. Her words were slurred, and she even had trouble standing up straight. Any time that happens, I make sure to ask the person if they have a ride home. I don’t want someone in that condition getting behind the wheel of a car. She told me her friend was going to pick her up in an hour.”
I wondered if it could be the same “friend” who’d picked her up on Apple Street the day before.
“Was she seeing you about her drinking?” Aiden asked.
Reverend Brook nodded. “She said that she wanted to stop and turn her life around, so she could see her family again. She claimed that they wouldn’t see her until she made some changes.”
“To her drinking?” I asked.
Reverend Brook nodded. “I assume that was the first step.”
“What’s Leeza’s last name?” I asked.
The minister shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t even know if that was her real first name. It was the name she gave me. We don’t require last names, addresses, phone numbers, or any other details of our clients’ life. We only find out those things if the person volunteers that information. Leeza was one who opted to share nothing.” He paused. “I told her about AA and other groups that could help her. She didn’t request more than that, so there wasn’t much more I could do.”
I rocked back on my heels. “If you were helping her, why did she crash the weddi
ng?”
The reverend swallowed and wouldn’t make eye contact with me. “It’s hard to say.”
Aiden folded his arms. “Take your best guess.”
Reverend Brook frowned as two cars pulled into the parking lot. Two couples exited their cars and stared openmouthed at the police vehicle and the coroner’s car at the front of the church. They were dressed in their Sunday best, ready for an uplifting message from Reverend Brook the day after his wedding. I was certain they weren’t expecting to find something like this on a quiet Sunday morning. They started to come our way, but Juliet ran interception and guided them to the back door.
The reverend ran his hand down the side of his face. “This will be the talk of the village.”
“Murder typically is,” Aiden deadpanned. “Now, why did she come to the wedding? Why did she call you a traitor?”
“I don’t know how she found me or knew who I was. As her counselor, she only knew me as Simon. The counselors are on a first-name basis with all our clients.”
“Holmes County isn’t that big,” I said. “It wouldn’t take much research for her to find out who you are.”
He sighed. “I suppose not. I hate to think how she ruined Juliet’s special day.”
Aiden glanced at me, but I couldn’t read his expression. I had so many questions about how these events must seem to Aiden. It was his mother’s future wrapped up in this tragedy, and it was his stepfather who was the only link—and likely a suspect—in a woman’s death.
“Reverend Brook,” he began, “why did Leeza call you a traitor?”
He licked his lips. “I suppose I can tell you now. Recently, Leeza told me about some illegal activity she knew about, and I reported it to the police.”
“Her illegal activity?” Aiden asked.
“I . . . I don’t know . . .”
Marshmallow Malice Page 5
