Chapter 22

When I drove to St. Michael’s at ten thirty, hoping to catch Deacon Molotov, I left Aspen at the inn with Jade and Frank. Frank was third in line as his favorite human, after me and Jade. I assumed Sister Alice’s silence was because of being caught up at the hospital or caught up with Sister Ida or Father Vincent.

I scanned the small parking lot for the car Deacon Molotov drove the other day, disappointed when I didn’t spot it. Neither was Sister Alice’s moped in sight. As I reached for my phone to call her, the door opened and out strolled Luka, pinching his overcoat together at the waist, dropping his keys as he did. 

“Deacon Molotov?” I called as I trotted toward him. He scooped up his keys and stood. “Do you have a minute?”

“One,” he said in a strained voice. “I need to get to the hospital.”

“I didn’t think you were here.” I looked around the lot again. “I don’t see your car.”

“My car’s in the shop, so I’m borrowing my wife’s. But I’m sure you didn’t come to talk to me about my car.” 

“No,” I said.

He rolled his hand in a gesture to talk and get it over with. “Please hurry. I have emergency business to take care of at Lakeview Hospital.”

“I’m curious about what happened between you and Ivan all those years ago.”

He sighed. “Why’s that.” It was more a statement than a question, and he sounded almost–well, almost bored. Weird.

“I’m trying to get a better picture of the man who used to work for me. That being Ivan, of course. Seems I didn’t know him at all.” I tried to sound genuine. 

“Ms. Kaczmarek, our falling out doesn’t shed any light on that, I’m afraid.”

“Did you trust Ivan?”

Luka let out a bitter laugh. “Now that is funny. Trusting is not a word I, or anyone who knew him, would use to describe Ivan. But he brought a lot of that on himself.” 

“How so?”

Luka looked at his watch and then jiggled his keys. “I don’t have time to deal with this right now.” He began walking away.

“Deacon?” I called after him. He turned, continuing to walk backward toward his car as he did. I said, “We lock the doors to the inn after hours.” I remembered that just this morning it was unlocked, and my heart picked up a notch. “There was no sign of forced entry, so whoever killed Ivan was a guest with a key or someone Ivan trusted enough to unlock the door for.”

“Well, that’s my alibi, then. Because I guarantee you that wouldn’t have been me.” 

He turned and stalked toward the car. I watched him, my head tilted. He had previously used his son as his alibi for Ivan’s murder. And if Ivan didn’t trust Luka, did Ivan have a good reason? Did Luka have a dark side? The Unlikely Suspect popped into my mind again. Unlikely was quickly turning into likely.

I descended the stairs for the meeting, drawn by laughter and the smell of burned coffee. 

“Andie Rose,” Matt said, followed by a few more hellos and more laughter. The thing I liked the best about this group was that laughter was usually present. And when we told stories of things we’d done that would horrify the average person, we shared the humor of it with each other. For a small town with only one bar, Brewski’s, and a small liquor store, the room held more than its share of members.

I scanned the room for Sister Alice before opening the door to the small kitchenette. I checked my phone for a text. Nothing there, either. Despite telling her I’d be here, the rebellious part of me experienced a quick thrill that I could leave, and she’d never know. But my prefrontal cortex kicked in and overrode the rebellion. This was exactly where I wanted—and needed—to be. With my peeps, drinking awful coffee. I poured some of the thick black liquid into a Styrofoam cup and sat in the circle of chairs. 

“Where’s your sidekick?” a woman named Luna asked. 

“Aspen’s with Jade and Frank at the inn. And I don’t know where Sister Alice is. She said she’d be here.” I looked at my watch again. “Not a lost cause yet. She still has five more minutes.”

“Whaddya know about the attempted murder of Mike Swanson?”

I dipped my chin and narrowed an eye. “You want me to break the AA traditions by talking about outside matters again?”

“Since the meeting hasn’t started yet, neither have the traditions, right?” a guy named Owen said.

I snorted. “I don’t know anything more than you probably do. The police are keeping it pretty hush-hush.” 

“At least this one wasn’t at your inn,” Jim said. “Or was it?” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

I shook my head vigorously. “Of course not. Everyone knows it was in the alley.”

“Hey, Andie Rose,” Shannon said. “I saw you running on the road toward town last night. You shouldn’t be running out there after dark. It could be dangerous.”

My antennae pricked up. “I only saw two vehicles while I was out.”

“I have a small MINI cooper, but my husband has a big pickup truck I drive sometimes. I hate it though, because the truck feels like a semi after driving my little MINI. Makes me feel like I’m out of control.”

“Which were you driving last night? I don’t remember seeing a MINI cooper.”

“My husband’s beast.”

“Which direction were you going, away from my place or toward it?” I regarded her carefully, watching for signs of something. Anything.

“Why all the questions?” she asked, eyes narrowed. She crossed her arms in front of her and sat up straighter.

“No reason,” I lied. “A dark truck almost hit me and my dog.”

“You accusing me of something, Andie Rose?” Her shoulders pressed back, the corners of her lips curved down.

“Of course not.”

Her posture relaxed a little. “You and your dog were focused on something in the woods,” she said. “I was going to honk the horn, but didn’t want to freak you out.”

I forced a smile. She had to be in one of the two trucks. Trucks were common in Minnesota, but I couldn’t imagine I wouldn’t have heard one going by when I was looking into the woods. I didn’t even have earbuds in.

I studied her silently and as discreetly as I could. The last thing I needed was to get popped one by an angry Shannon. I had to get a look at her husband’s truck. Maybe seeing the vehicle would jog my memory.

“Hey Shannon, how’s your husband taking Mike’s shooting?” Jim asked.

Shannon stiffened, and her eye twitched. “Mark and Mike may be twins, but they’ve never gotten along. Mike has thrown Mark under the bus too many times to count.”

I bolted upright, nearly dropping my coffee. Mike had a twin? I’d seen Shannon’s husband at a meeting when she picked up a chip, and he looked nothing like Mike.

“Still, it’s his twin brother, man,” Jim said, frowning. “That’s tough stuff.”

Shannon shrugged a shoulder. “Yeah. I suppose.”

“Fraternal twins?” I asked, then shook my head. Not one of my brighter questions. “Disregard that.”

She answered anyway. “They’re as different in personality as they are in looks. Hard to believe they came from the same baby mama.”

I took a minute to process the news. Had we accumulated a new suspect on the list? Maybe Mike’s shooting had nothing to do with Ivan’s murder at all, but was a family affair instead. The gang greeted Sister Alice, disrupting me from my thoughts. I glanced up at her as she removed her headpiece and ran her fingers through her hair. Despite the weighted look in her eyes, I bit my lip to keep from giggling at the visual of her riding her moped with the veil flying behind her.

“Thank you to whoever got the cookies out and coffee made.” She shed her coat and tossed it over the back of an empty chair.

“That’d be me,” Jim said, puffing out his chest. 

Sister Alice took a sip of coffee. “Not as good as mine, but it’ll do.” She tittered at Jim’s glare. “Where’s Aspen?” she asked me as she sat down.

“With Jade and Frank.”

She nodded, and the chitchat continued for another minute until Sister Alice called the meeting to order. 

I kept glancing at her throughout the meeting. She wasn’t her usual perky, outspoken self today. My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I snuck a peek at the text—Brad.

Detective Griffin has demanded I make a trip to Spirit Lake to ask me more questions about my whereabouts the night your friend died, it said. This whole thing is a colossal waste of my time. But since I’ll be there, maybe we can talk about my proposal. Will let you know when I finish with the detective. 

WTH? As long as he’s here? Like it’s a convenience thing? My lips pressed together. I couldn’t decide if I was angry or hurt. But I knew I was glad I’d made the decision I had.

Okay, I texted back. But at Hallowed Grounds this time. Not Brewski’s.

Maybe I’d run into Deacon Molotov again. 

I looked up from my phone and spied Sister Alice looking my way expectantly. I sat up straight and looked around the circle. All eyes were on me. “What?” I asked. I dropped my phone, which clattered on the floor and under the chair next to me. I bent over to pick it up and knocked my head on the person’s knee. “Ouch!” I sat up and rubbed my head. 

“Problems?” Sister Alice asked with an amused smile. “Jim tagged you to speak next. We’re waiting.” 

I took a breath and smoothed the hair at the crown of my head. “I’m passing today.” I was afraid if I spoke, I’d inadvertently share what my mind was obsessing about—Ivan and Mike’s cases.

For the rest of the meeting, I divided my attention between those in the room and those who weren’t–Brad and Luka–and the case as a whole. Both cases. And learning that Mike had a twin brother—who had no apparent love for his twin—only jumbled things more. 

As soon as the meeting finished, Sister Alice pulled me by my arm toward the coffee table. 

“Help me clean up,” she said. “As soon as everyone’s gone, we need to talk.”

“I’d say,” I said.

She looked at me sharply. “Did something happen with Luka?”

“So you got my text?”

“On my way over here, yes. It was a little—shall we say, eventful—at the hospital.”

“What happened?” I wrapped the remaining cookies—two halves, to be precise—in a napkin and tucked them in my purse.

“Hungry?” she asked.

“I don’t like waste.”

She rolled her eyes. “You have the most spoiled dog in the world.”

I grinned. “He’s not spoiled. He’s loved. So what happened at the hospital?”

She nodded toward the two people lingering by the doorway. “Wait until they leave,” she whispered.

We cleaned the refreshment table, put everything away, and wiped down the table before the two stragglers finally left.

“So what happened?” she asked. 

“You first.”

“Mike died right as I left his hospital room.”

My mouth dropped open. “What did you do?”

“Prayed for him.”

“Didn’t do much good, did it?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Andie Rose, a man is dead.”

The impact slugged me. I gasped and dropped against the counter. “Great,” I exclaimed, blowing through my lips. “Now Detective Griffin will question me regarding a murder instead of an attempt.”

Her eyebrows shot up above the smudged lenses of her frames of the day—cobalt blue, matching my eyes. “That’s what you’re worried about?” she asked.

“Shouldn’t I be?” I looked at her as if there were anything that could be worse. 

“I’d say we should be concerned about catching someone who’s still running free. Killing.”

“Yeah, but if I’m behind bars, I can’t help catch said killer,” I argued.

“Then let’s catch him or her sooner rather than later, so that doesn’t happen.” She quirked one eyebrow, something I couldn’t figure out how she did. I tried it as I looked at her.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Nothing. I was trying to quirk an eyebrow like you do.”

“I’d suggest you don’t. It makes you look constipated.” 

I laughed. “You’re ornery.”

“What happened with Luka this morning?”

“The oddest thing, really. And it could be nothing at all.” She waited for me to continue. “Before, he used Roman as his alibi. Now his alibi is that Ivan didn’t trust him.”

“That sounds rather cryptic. Care to elaborate?” She pushed her glasses up with her forefinger.

I snatched a Kleenex from a box on the table and handed it to her. “Clean your glasses.”

She made a face. “I can see you as well as I want to.” She plucked the tissue from my hand and began doing what she was told.

I relayed the conversation I’d had with Luka to Sister Alice. “So if Ivan thought Luka was so untrustworthy, could he have a dark side and be the one who killed Ivan? It seems the unlikely suspect is turning into the likely one.” I thought for a moment, then said, “Maybe Mike and Ivan’s murders weren’t connected at all, as I thought they might be.”

“It’s anyone’s guess at this point.”

“What do you know about Shannon’s husband, Mark? Other than he’s Mike’s twin. Which you didn’t tell me about,” I scolded.

“You never asked.”

“Shannon is a bit of a hothead herself.” I filled her in on the weird behavior from Shannon about Mark and Mike.

Sister Alice pondered the news. “I visited with Marie this morning.” 

When she didn’t say more, I said, “And?”

“It appears Ella was visiting her mother right before I got there. Had Marie in tears. That poor woman recently lost her husband, and Ella makes her grief even greater.”

“What’d she say to Marie?”

“Marie mentioned Ella amassed a significant debt.” She made air quotes when she said the word significant. “Ella wanted her inheritance early. Ella wouldn’t tell Marie why she wanted it, so Marie told her no. Ella got mad and left.” I opened my mouth to speak, but Sister Alice shot her hand up and continued. “Marie also overheard Ella and Mike talking in the living room a few days ago about Ivan blackmailing someone for a, quote, substantial, unquote, amount of money.”

“Did she hear who it was?”

Sister Alice shook her head. “She got somewhat panicked that the someone getting blackmailed was Ella, and that it might be the reason Ella needed the money.”

“That makes sense, except Ivan is dead, so Ella doesn’t owe him money anymore. Which gives her the perfect motive for killing Ivan, but why does she still need the money?”

“Perhaps someone was in control of Ivan?”

“Meaning the mystery person could have killed Ivan and is now blackmailing Ella.” I blew my breath through my lips and dropped into a folding chair.

Sister Alice leaned against the counter facing me.

“This whole thing keeps getting more and more confusing,” I said. “If Ella killed Ivan, she could have killed Mike, too, for unknown reasons. Unconnected circumstances but same killer.”

“I asked Marie if she thought Ella could have killed Ivan.”

I snapped my head up and looked at her. “What’d she say?”

“Her exact words were, ‘I don’t know.’ ”