Mary’s living room had never felt so still. It was as if time somehow stopped, leaving them all frozen in place.
It was Dan who finally broke the spell, only his voice didn’t sound quite right. Cracked, somehow. ‘Why did you think it was Father D’Angelo? Did you get a good look at him?’
Dalia and Ronaldo glanced at each other across their mother, who had them each squashed tightly into her sides.
‘He had on a hood.’ Dalia made the simple statement with confidence and Ronaldo nodded his agreement.
Dan waited a moment and took in a long breath and let it out before speaking again. ‘A hood. Is that the only reason you thought it was Father D’Angelo?’
Dalia nodded. ‘He doesn’t usually wear it up ’cause it makes him look like something out of a scary movie. That’s what he says.’
Father D’Angelo was a Franciscan priest. He wore the centuries-old long brown robe tied at the waist with a heavy rope and sandals. Mary couldn’t remember ever seeing his hood – they called it a cowl, didn’t they? – up either. She didn’t attend St Theresa’s so only knew Father D’Angelo from the events she helped put on for the church. He’d always seemed like such a nice man, never angry, so good with the children. A bit frazzled from time to time, especially when they were setting up for the church bazaar, but that certainly wasn’t abnormal. Or frightening. He couldn’t have … could he?
‘Father D’Angelo never murdered anyone.’ Tony’s faced was flushed with anger, his hands rolled up into fists. ‘He wouldn’t harm a fly. You kids don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Luanne pulled the children tighter, if that were possible. Dalia gasped; Ronaldo gave a little groan; even the puppy yelped.
‘For heaven’s sake, Tony. They only said what they saw. There’s no need to yell at them.’
‘I wasn’t yelling.’ Tony glared at them then walked away from behind the sofa to stand behind Dan. ‘Only, they’re wrong. I don’t know who they saw, but it wasn’t the good Father.’
Dan sat back a little on his heels before pushing himself to his feet. He never took his eyes off the children, who had theirs firmly fixed on Tony. They both looked scared.
Dan sighed. ‘Tony, let the kids tell us what they think they saw. Scaring them to death won’t get us anywhere.’
Tony stiffened; the veins in his neck stood out.
He’s going to explode.
But he didn’t. His hands unclenched, he filled his lungs with air and let it out slowly, his shoulders dropped and he nodded. ‘Sorry. It’s just that— Go on. Tell Dan what you saw. I’m not going to say another thing.’
Luanne smiled at him and relaxed as well. The kids didn’t, much.
Dan studied them a moment then smiled. He got no smiles back. ‘OK. Tell me again about the puppy. Do you know why it was there? Was’ – he glanced up at Tony – ‘the person you saw looking for it?’
The children looked at each other. Dalia shrugged. Ronaldo stayed mute. Dan sighed.
‘All right. I think that’s all for tonight. Luanne, could you bring the kids—’
‘Not the police station.’ Ellen hadn’t said anything until now, but there was no maneuvering room in her voice. ‘Aunt Mary won’t mind if Luanne brings them back here, or you could go to their house.’
‘Why don’t you do that?’ Luanne looked at Tony, silently asking if he agreed, or perhaps telling him that was what was going to happen.
Mary wasn’t sure.
‘They’re exhausted, and they’ll feel more comfortable at home. Right after lunch tomorrow?’
Dan nodded and picked up his coffee cup. ‘I’ll be there. Right now, I’ve got to get back.’ He drained his cup and handed it to Ellen, along with a quick kiss on the cheek. ‘Don’t wait up.’ He turned back toward Luanne but made sure he included Tony. ‘Please don’t question the kids. Don’t talk about it with them at all, unless they get upset and need to talk. The more you question them, the more they’ll forget what they really saw.’ He turned back toward the children, as if reluctant to leave them, but Ronaldo’s head had dropped to his chest and his eyes closed, the cocoa mug dangling from one hand. Dan shook his head and turned to go.
He got to the door just as it opened.
‘Hi. We thought we’d find you here. What happened out there tonight?’
Karl and Pat Bennington walked into the room, shedding coats as they came. Pat enveloped Mary in a huge hug, wiggled her fingers at Ellen and zeroed in on Dan. ‘You’re not leaving, are you? We want to know what happened to Cliff. Is it true he was murdered?’
Dan looked at Pat, then at Ellen. The Benningtons were their best friends, and Pat, as well as Ellen, didn’t believe for one moment the police had any reason to keep anything from them. The press, of course, and other townspeople, maybe, but they were family, or as good as, so, of course, he should confide in them. ‘Oh, a puppy.’ Pat walked over to the sofa and bent down to touch the puppy on its head. ‘Isn’t he – she? – cute. Where did you get him?’ She touched Ronaldo on the top of his head as well, but he didn’t look up. Dalia looked at her through half-closed eyes but said nothing. Pat grinned at Luanne. ‘So you’re going to have two little things to housebreak.’
Luanne laughed, but it didn’t last long. ‘We’re not keeping it.’
That woke the children.
‘We saved her. We can’t let her go now.’ Dalia’s eyes started to pool and she reached out for the puppy.
‘I got him out of the sheep pen. He would have gotten trampled if I hadn’t. He needs me.’ Ronaldo’s eyes had snapped open. He glared at his mother, his face set in stone. He also tried to grab the puppy.
It yelped.
Karl had followed Pat to the sofa. He reached out for the puppy and, without a word, the children let him have it. He spoke softly, stroked its long, black, curly ears while he held it in his other hand then turned it over. ‘Sorry, Dalia, she is a he. Where did you say you got him?’
‘The girls will tell you all about it. I’ve got to get back.’ Dan looked at his phone, texted something, struggled into his jacket and reached once again for the door. He paused, his hand on the knob. ‘I can understand you not wanting to keep the puppy, Luanne, but someone needs to. I want it close, at least for the time being. I suppose it’s possible it strayed into the manger scene by itself, but I think it’s a whole lot more likely it was brought there. I’d sort of like to know by who, and why.’ He looked at the kids for a minute then smiled. ‘So, keep him safe at least for tonight. OK? I’ll see you guys tomorrow.’ The door closed with a firm click behind him.
The children looked at their mother with hope written clearly on their faces. She shifted the pillow behind her back and sighed. ‘He’s too young to be housebroken. I really can’t …’
‘Your mom’s not doing anything else today, or tomorrow, either. She’s done way too much. That damn donkey jolting her all over – we’re not keeping the dog.’
Both faces started to crumble.
‘Why don’t I take him home tonight and then tomorrow, we’ll see,’ Karl said.
All eyes turned toward Karl, even Pat’s.
‘You’d do that?’ Tony looked torn between relief and skepticism.
‘I’m a vet, remember? I have a clinic and am well equipped to house a puppy. We’ll give him a nice, comfortable bed and lots of dinner. He’ll be fine. Then, tomorrow, after you talk to Dan, we’ll see.’ He looked at the puppy, turned him over again, pushed his ears back and ran a soft finger over his nose and down the back of his head. He picked up each front paw and examined it before letting the puppy withdraw it. ‘I’ll need to look him over, anyway, to make sure he’s healthy – all that.’
He’d already done a pretty good job of looking him over. Why? Professional compulsion? Or something else? Karl had a strange look in his eye.
‘Luanne, I think you need to take these children straight home to bed.’ Mary looked at her a little more closely than at Tony. ‘You all look as if you could use a little time in bed. Go on, scoot. All of you. We’ll see you tomorrow.’
The yawn Luanne gave was testimony Mary was right. She smiled, reached out for Tony’s hand and got to her feet. ‘Come on, kids. Let’s go home. We’ll visit the puppy tomorrow.’
‘Promise?’ Ronaldo scrambled to his feet as well and grabbed his mother’s other hand.
She nodded.
Dalia sat for a moment, evidently thinking it over. Finally, she pushed herself up but bypassed her mother and walked over to Karl. She placed her hand on the puppy’s little head then bent down and gave him a kiss. His tongue went out in search of her and landed on her nose. She laughed. Tony didn’t.
‘His name is Sampson,’ she told Karl.
‘How do you know?’ Ronaldo let go of his mother to stand beside Dalia. He gave the puppy one last pet as well.
‘Because I just named him.’
Mary almost laughed at the finality of that statement. However, now wasn’t the time for a discussion on the merits of a name for a puppy they probably weren’t going to keep, and Ronaldo’s mouth was open with what Mary was sure was a protest.
‘Where are your coats?’ That ought to serve to get them moving.
‘Mary, can you come over tomorrow when Dan comes? Before would be even better. I have some questions …’ Luanne gave a quick glance at the children.
Mary nodded. ‘We do have a few things to talk about. I’ll see you all then. Tony?’
‘Probably not. We’re starting to prune the vineyards, and I have to be there to supervise the crew. I’ll try to make it home for lunch, but I don’t know yet.’
Mary nodded and held the door as they all walked out into a night that had started to spit rain.
‘Hurry, it’s starting.’ Tony, clutching Luanne by one arm, shooed the kids ahead of them. He glanced back, gave a small wave and resumed guiding Luanne down the sidewalk.
Mary watched until they turned onto their front walk before she closed the door and turned to face the room.
Ellen made the rounds with the coffeepot. She poured the last drop into Karl’s cup. ‘I’m going to make another pot. I’m pretty sure we’re going to need it. Don’t say one word, any of you, until I get back.’
Mary walked across the room, sank into her chair and picked up the oversized NPR cup she always used.
‘What on earth happened tonight?’ Pat leaned forward slightly from the seat she’d taken on the sofa. ‘I’ve never heard so many rumors in my life. Is Cliff really dead? Murdered?’
‘How did that cow get into the act?’ Leave it to Karl to zero in on an animal.
Mary almost laughed, but it wasn’t really very funny. ‘The Maids a-Milking brought the cow. They were going to try to milk it during their performance. Evidently, the cow took one look at all the people acting out the song and decided she wanted no part of it. How she came to lead the posada, I have no idea. Did anyone ever catch her?’
‘Bobby Connors did. Tell us about Cliff.’
Ellen walked back into the room, crossed it and settled herself in the rocking chair beside the TV. She picked up the full mug of coffee she’d put down beside it. ‘Coffee’s perking. Yes. Tell us about Cliff. Was he really murdered? Did the Mendosa kids really see the murderer?’
A shudder ran through Mary. They’d seen something – or someone – and whatever, or whoever it was, it wasn’t good.
‘Yes. Cliff was murdered. I don’t know how, but there was blood all over the front of his sweatshirt. The coppery smell filled the air.’ She stopped, reliving the horrible scene. She fervently hoped the children hadn’t seen as much as she had.
‘Blood on the front of his sweatshirt?’
Mary nodded. ‘A lot of it.’
Karl absently stroked the puppy as he watched her. ‘That means he probably wasn’t shot. If he was, he’d have fallen backward into the manger and all of the blood would have been around the exit wound. Maybe someone stabbed him with something and pulled it back out.’
The rest of them just looked at him.
‘That was more information than we needed,’ said Pat, finally.
‘Why would anyone kill poor old Cliff? He wouldn’t harm a fly, and now that he’d quit drinking …’ Ellen paused to wipe the corner of her eye. ‘I remember when I was a kid and my cat got hit by a car. Cliff was wonderful, let me hold Fluffy’s paw while he set her back leg, kept talking to me the whole time, telling me she’d be fine. She was, too.’
‘Fluffy?’ Pat’s eyebrow rose.
‘Fluffy. I was about Dalia’s age.’
‘She came up with Sampson.’
‘Yes. I wonder where she got that.’
‘Bible story.’ Mary’s tone left no doubt that was as far as they were going with that conversation. ‘What I want to know is what Cliff was doing in the empty manger scene. He didn’t go to St Theresa’s, so he wasn’t there to help.’
‘Cliff didn’t go to any church in town, at least, not on a regular basis.’ Karl set the puppy down but immediately picked it back up. ‘Mary, do you have any newspaper? I think we’re going to need some, and soon.’
Papers were found and the puppy obliged, but the conversation didn’t resume.
Ellen looked at her watch and said she’d better go. Unless she would rather have someone with her tonight?
Whatever for? Mary hadn’t seen Cliff killed, or the murderer. It was the children she worried about.
Ellen smiled at her aunt as if that was the answer she expected, and pushed herself to her feet, empty mug in hand. So did the Benningtons.
‘It’s after eleven,’ Pat said. ‘We need to drop the puppy off at the clinic – unless we’re taking him home?’
Karl smiled.
Pat sighed. She hugged Ellen and kissed Mary on the cheek. ‘You did your usual wonderful job. Don’t know how you do it, but nothing in this town would ever go right without your help. Ellen, you’d better call me.’
Ellen nodded and reached for their mugs. ‘I’ll just drop these off in the kitchen.’
‘You’ll do no such thing. I’ll take care of them. You get yourselves home. You must be done in, all of you.’
‘You’re not?’ Ellen looked at her aunt with a small smile. ‘It won’t kill me to stick these in the dishwasher.’
‘It won’t kill me, either. Get.’
Ellen obediently set the mugs down on the coffee table.
‘Don’t forget to lock this,’ was Ellen’s last remark as they went out the front door, running toward cars as they tried to avoid the rapidly increasing rain.
Mary closed the door, locked it, slipped the chain into its holder and leaned her back against it. The stillness suddenly seemed ominous. Why, she couldn’t imagine. Unless, of course, the horror of the last several hours was just setting in. Poor Cliff. Why now? He’d been so good for … how long? At least two years. He had to be in his late sixties, early seventies. Certainly not a threat to anyone. Any fallout from the mistakes he’d made when he was practicing were long … well, maybe not forgotten but certainly tempered by time. Who could possibly have wanted to kill him, and in that bizarre way? Who’d brought the puppy into the manger? Mary agreed with Dan. The puppy hadn’t wandered in. It had been brought. By who? Why? She sighed and pushed away from the door. Answers to those questions weren’t going to come tonight. She picked up the coffee mugs and headed for the kitchen.