Immaculate deception
A Nosy Vicar Cozy Mystery
Hannah Weston Price
Immaculate Deception
Copyright © 2018 by Hannah Weston Price
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
For my children.
You will never truly understand how much of a blessing you are to me.
Chapter One
“Rocket Man!” Reverend Regina Watson sang as her ancient Kombi crested the hill and wound down the single road leading to the little village that would soon be her home. “Da da dee dee da da dee dee da.”
It must be noted, she mused as the song continued to funnel out of her crackling radio, that she would probably enjoy the song a great deal more if she could in fact remember the words to the chorus. She was sure she’d known it by heart once.
A single WHOOP of a siren made her jump and a peak in her rear mirror elicited a sigh of annoyance.
“Damn and blast!” She swore as a hand appeared from the driver’s side window and signaled for her to pull over. “Double damn and blast!”
Was she speeding? Surely not. The Vicar Mobile, as her brother, Daniel, had jokingly christened it, couldn’t speed even if she floored it.
A nervous tickle started in her fingers. It was ridiculous really, she nearly never got pulled over and when she did it was for random breath testing and once for going through a yellow light which turned out to be just turning red. Still, a nervous giggle bubbled in her chest as she pulled over and stopped.
The other car pulled in behind her and she watched, fingers tapping the wheel, as the driver’s side door opened, and a tall, impressively built man unfolded himself and strode towards her window.
“Oh, relax will you!” She muttered to herself. “You know how you get when you’re anxious.”
She took some breaths and let the song seep into her psyche again, focusing on the lyrics and singing softly as the heavy footsteps got closer.
By the time the man was by her window, Reggie was singing full force again.
“Miss…” He started and did not look at all impressed when she held up a finger and kept on singing. “Could you turn that down please, madam?”
She felt the toothy grin clamp into place and did as she was told. “Sorry, just love that song, don’t you?” He made to reply but Reggie’s mouth was still going. “I can never remember the words to the chorus though.” She sang the first line of the chorus again but fumbled with the next line. “Damn.”
The man stood very still and Reggie had the feeling he was mentally counting to ten. She had that effect a lot on all manner of authority figures in her life. The police always made her feel antsy and nervous and oddly guilty. And when she was nervous, her brain seemed to always take a back seat to her flapping mouth. It had gotten her into no ends of trouble throughout her life.
She supposed, when he wasn’t looking annoyed, the man might be quite handsome. His dark hair was clipped short but still managed to curl slightly around his ears and his blue eyes were intense above a thin sharp nose and full lips.
“Miss,” he started again. “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
“Well, if I knew why, I probably would have sped up,” she said and clamped her mouth shut with enough force to make her teeth clack. “Sorry, I make stupid jokes when I’m nervous.”
His eyebrows rose, and his gaze flicked over the back of her van, clocking the bags, and boxes. “Do you have any reason to be nervous?”
She breathed out a sigh. “Could you please just tell me why I’ve been pulled over.”
He ignored the question. “Where are you headed?”
“Well this road only goes to one place, so I guess I’m going there.”
His eyes narrowed. “Is there a reason you’re being so evasive? Have you been drinking?”
That got her hackles up. With an indignant snort she checked her watch then held it out for him to see. “It’s not even eleven O’clock in the morning!”
“Miss, I need you to answer the question.”
She sighed and rolled her eyes. Clearly there wasn’t a lot of crime in this neck of the woods and this officer was bored. Obviously right? What other reason could there be?
“Fine, pull out your little thing and let me have a blow.”
The officer coughed and twin points of pink appeared on his cheeks and ears. “Excuse me?”
At that exact moment she too realized exactly what that had sounded like and she felt her own cheeks flush. She only hoped her foundation hid the worst of her blush.
“Well, surely you’re not going to take my word for it, so I assumed you’d give me the Breathalyzer test.”
“Of course,” he said with another cough. “Stay there please.”
Reggie threw him a mock salute as he returned to his car. She was mid-mocking his words, I need you to answer the question, Miss, when he appeared again at her window, making her squeak and jump.
“Blooming hell, you’re like a vampire,” she scolded to cover her embarrassment. “Can’t you cough or wear a bell or something?”
“Just blow,” he said, holding the tube in her direction.
Reggie was pretty sure, one more wisecrack was going to get her arrested, so she simply smiled and did as she was told. She even managed to withhold her comment when the test showed she was clean. Though the smug expression took more effort to conceal.
“Is that all officer?” She asked sweetly.
He was still scowling at the little screen when he said. “Are you aware that your left tail light is out?”
Damn. She looked in her rear mirror then her side mirror, neither revealed anything useful. “It must have happened on the journey. I didn’t realize there was so much gravel along these roads. Don’t even want to think about the damage it’s doing to my tires.”
He cast a skeptical look over her old Kombi but said, “I can let you off with a warning for now, but you’ll need to get it fixed ASAP.”
“Yes, sir,” she mumbled. “Thank you, sir. Is there anything else?”
He stared at her for a long time and it was clear that there were in fact several things he’d like to say. “You drive safely now.” His tone made it clear that he meant anything but.
He made a motion as though he might tip his hat, if he’d had one, but midway through the move he seemed to remember that he didn’t have a hat and instead performed an awkward sort of head tilt before striding away, shoes crunching in the gravel.
“Tosser,” Reggie muttered then bit her tongue as the footsteps stopped for one breathless moment before continuing away. “One day, Reggie, you are going to get yourself in trouble with that mouth of yours.” She heard Aunt Hillary’s words come out of her mouth and sighed.
With any luck and the good lord on her side, she’d never have to see him again. Why, the man didn’t even offer is name!
“How rude of him,” she said smartly and pulled out onto the road.
***
The village of Patchwork Hill was everything she expected a country village to be. Old stone houses, a quaint little market square complete with faded but still pretty shopfronts, and just off a ways she could make out a cross atop an ancient stone church.
Her heart skipped a beat in her chest when she saw it, followed by a nasty flood of dread.
What was wrong with her? She should be excited to finally be running her own Parrish. This is what she’d been working so hard to achieve for the past decade. Was it fear of finally being happy or something else?<
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She was still brooding when she spotted an elderly lady slowly making her way down the path, carrying quite heavy looking bags, one obviously splitting.
Reggie slowed to a stop and called out the window, “Hi! Looks like one of your bags is breaking. Can I give you a ride home?”
The elderly lady turned and blinked at her as Reggie jumped out of the van and caught the ripping bag just seconds before it spilled its contents over the stone path.
“Who are you?” The lady snapped, scowling at Reggie as the vicar struggled to keep hold of the multiple cans of dog food now sitting loose in her arms.
“I’m Regina Watson, call me Reggie. I’m the new Vicar.” She tried to wrestle the cans into a more comfortable position, but it was impossible without dropping one. “I’d shake your hand but…” She lifted the cans slightly to demonstrate her point.
The woman scoffed. “We already have a Vicar. Father Benjamin Larson is our Vicar.”
“I heard he passed away last month. I’m very sorry for your loss, by the way. That’s why I was sent for. I’m taking over his Parrish.”
“Well that’s no good, when your faithful dog dies, you don’t just go out and replace him the next month.” The woman said. “I would think that would be doubly so for a vicar.”
“Obviously I can’t replace such a well-respected man as he clearly was,” Reggie said, shifting the cans awkwardly again. “But someone does need to take over the responsibilities of the church. The needs of the many, and all that.”
The lady didn’t look convinced. But after another minute of glaring she finally nodded and they made their way to the back of the van.
Reggie emptied a box of bits and pieces into another box of junk, ever aware of the woman’s judging gaze, then dropped her armful of cans into the box. Next, she relieved the woman of her other bag and plopped it in the corner.
Once in the van, and belted up, Reggie turned to the woman with a smile. “May I ask your name?”
“Rebecca, but you may call me Miss Duncan.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Miss Duncan,” Reggie said and finally held out a hand to shake.
For an elderly woman she had a firm handshake. “You seem very young to be a vicar.”
“Not so young,” Reggie said with a laugh, starting the van again. “I’ll be thirty-five this year. Now where are we headed?”
She started to drive waiting for instructions when Miss Duncan pointed to a stone-fenced cottage three houses up from where they’d started. “This is me, right here.” Then at Reggie’s incredulous expression she said, “Well you didn’t think me foolish enough to walk with such a heavy load if I had far to go, did you?”
“No, I suppose not. Why don’t you go open up and I’ll carry your groceries in for you.”
With a box held under one arm and the other bag in her free hand, Reggie followed Miss Duncan inside. A tight hallway led past a sweet looking sitting room to a cozy kitchen, complete with flowers and herbs on the windowsill and the smell of something recently baked in the air.
“This is a lovely room, Miss Duncan,” she said placing the bag and box on the bench.
“I suppose you’ll be wanting a cup of tea?”
“Thank you for the offer, but I should go,” Reggie replied. “The Parrish council is expecting me at the church. I’ll see you on Sunday though, wont I?”
“Not bloody likely,” Miss Duncan said with a scoff. “A bit too farfetched for me. But thanks for your help.”
“Any time,” Reggie said with a smile, only smarting slightly as Miss Duncan’s comment about the church.
It was odd though. Why had Miss Duncan acted so put out at the idea of replacing the vicar if she didn’t attend church in the first place? Reggie smiled and shook her head. She supposed it was the principle that offended the elderly lady more than anything else.
She was just heading for the door when Miss Duncan spoke again. “If you wanted to pop by after, you’d be welcome. I have a new scone recipe I’ve been meaning to try.”
Reggie turned and nodded. “I’d like that. Perhaps I could bring some fresh cream.”
“Oh aye, That’d be nice. And a bottle of wine too while you’re at it.”
Reggie gave her a thumbs up and backed out the door. Three minutes in town and already made a friend. That had to be some kind of Vicar record.
Chapter Two
Saint Germaine church was over six-hundred years old, or at least the stone structure was that old. From what she’d read the church had been fought over and reconsecrated multiple times before finally being claimed by the Anglican Church just over a century ago but for some reason kept the Church’s original namesake.
Reggie couldn’t help smiling. She would bet her right arm there was a story and a half behind that. She never could understand the rift between the factions. It was all the same book, the same God. Power, that’s what it came down to in the end, whoever controlled the Parish controlled the people, the money, and the land.
The little space between her eyebrows furrowed as she brooded for another moment then forced the thought away. These petty battles had been waging long before she’d been born and would continue long after she was gone. No point letting them ruin her day.
Once settled in the carpark, she checked her reflection. Her green eyes were only slightly obscured by black rimmed glasses and she took a moment to smooth back her shoulder length brown hair in its neat ponytail. The Deacons at her last Parrish had labeled her Miss Potter for her eyes and choice of glasses.
Butterflies flittered in her stomach at the thought of meeting her new congregation. Would she even fit in such a small town after so long living in the city?
Pressing her hands together she shut her eyes. “Lord, please lend me the strength to not embarrass myself in there or say something ridiculous and offensive that will make them all hate me within the first five minutes.”
She finished with a chuckled Amen because she was pretty sure even Jesus himself couldn’t get in the way of her big stupid mouth.
When she entered the church, it was to a merry party and she immediately relaxed. But it didn’t last long.
“You’re quite late.” A dower woman, possibly in her late fifties stepped into Reggie’s path, blocking her way to the food table. “I assume you are our new vicar, Regina Watson? I’m Ms. Alison Wilcox, Headmistress of Patchwork Hill High School and Chair of the Parrish Council.”
The woman was taller than Reggie with long thick grey hair tied into a tight bun and delicate, gold-rimmed glasses perched primly on her nose. This was the woman who could have Reggie dismissed and she’d already managed to make her unhappy. Nice start.
“Wonderful to meet you,” Reggie said with a bright smile. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I’m afraid I got a little sidetracked. I was pulled over by an obnoxious police officer. Apparently, my tail light got broken on the way here.”
“Miss Watson,” A disturbingly familiar voice spoke from her left. “I didn’t think I would be seeing you again so soon.”
Reggie closed her eyes and inwardly glared up at the sky. Is this your idea of a joke? The bible talks about you being loving and wise and occasionally wrathful, doesn’t say anything about you being funny.
She opened her eyes again to meet the intense blue gaze of the officer from earlier. He still wasn’t smiling. Why couldn’t he be friendlier and easier going like that detective from Hamish Macbeth?
“Ah, so you’ve met our village Policeman,” Ms. Wilcox said with a smile at him that was disturbingly flirtatious for such an austere woman. “Detective Harry Thornton. He arrived about ten minutes ago.”
Reggie had to use real willpower to stop from rolling her eyes. This woman was definitely a Headmistress and she was not going to let the fact that their new vicar was late go any time soon.
“Oh, come on, Alison,” said another woman said from Reggie’s right. “The Vicar’s just arrived, probably after a very long drive. A cup of tea would serve her much
better than one of your lectures.”
With that the stranger wrapped a hand around Reggie’s wrist and led her away.
“Sorry about that. I’m Sarah, your verger. Assuming you wish to keep me on in the position.” The woman was no more than twenty-five with sandy brown hair and a pretty, heart-shaped face.
Reggie took both Sarah’s hands and smiled warmly. “My dear, I was praying earlier for the strength to not say anything to offend anyone or embarrass myself, and the good lord sent a verger. I don’t envy you.”
They laughed, and Sarah poured two teas. “I won’t lie, Alison is hard-nosed and will make your life a living hell if you get on her bad side. Detective Thornton is alright though, once you get to know him.”
After a couple of sips of tea and a bite of biscuit, Sarah smiled. “Ready to meet some people?” At Reggie’s nodded reply she lead her towards a neatly dressed couple by another table.
“This is Dr. James Manning and his wife Charlotte,” Sarah said, then to the couple she added, “Allow me to present our new Vicar, Regina Watson.”
“Reggie to my friends,” she said shaking hands with each in turn. “Lovely to meet you both.”
James and his wife seemed to be well into their middle ages and while the doctor’s hair was liberally peppered with grey, Charlotte’s was a rich auburn and hung over her shoulders like woven silk.
“I trust you’ll be making your first appointment once you’ve gotten settled?” Dr. Manning said.
“Oh no,” Reggie replied with a laugh. “I don’t think so. Fit as a fiddle, I am. Why I can count all my doctor’s visits in my whole life on one hand.”
Sarah laughed nervous at her side while the doctor tutted.
“Can’t have that, Vicar. Lots of illnesses and conditions can only be treated if caught early and once you start feeling sick it might be too late.”
“James!” Charlotte slapped his chest and turned to Reggie with a shocked laugh. “I apologize, Reverend. My husband doesn’t usually start with the foreshadowing and death threats till the second meeting.”
James smiled at his wife and even flushed slightly as he looked back at Reggie. “That did come out with a little more foreboding than intended. I do recommend regular checkups though, especially as we get older.”
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