CHAPTER 45
“You surprised me, Phil.” I patted my still-racing heart.
“Door’s open.” He gestured backward with his head. “Anybody can come in.”
He still didn’t smile. He faced me, effectively blocking my exit from the pew. Should I run out the other end?
I stood, which gave me a couple of inches of height on him, and took one step back. “That’s how the minister likes it.”
“Your father.”
“Yes.” I mustered a helpful look. “Shall I get him for you? He’s in his office.”
“No, he’s not.” Phil sounded as grim as his expression. “He just drove away.”
I swore silently. His presence menaced. How did he find me here? Had he followed me? I couldn’t believe he’d shown up by accident, that this Catholic Italian had happened to stop into the UU church exactly when I had. Maybe he’d driven by while I was outside talking with Elenia and decided to stop. Time for me to get out of here. I turned away.
He grabbed my arm with a hand surprisingly large for such a short man. A strong hand, too. My own hands turned clammy. My skin tingled with goose bumps despite my cotton sweater.
“Hey! Let me go.” I pulled away but he kept his grip.
“I want to know what that group of yours is up to.” His dark eyes bore into my face. “I saw you all sitting behind me in town hall. I know you’ve been snooping around, cozying up to the detective, asking questions of my partner.”
“We’re not up to anything.” I tried to twist out of his grasp. “Let go of my arm.” I tried to peel his thick fingers off with my other hand. I failed.
“Even Derrick, who has tried to get all bro-like with me, is getting nosy. He’s asking too much, too.” Phil kept hold of me. If anything, he squeezed harder. “I did not kill my wife, do you understand me?”
“Seriously, Phil, let me go or I’ll call the police.” I reached my right hand toward my back pocket, pretending I still had a phone in there.
He glared at me, then dropped his hand. My arm throbbed. I took another couple of steps back, in case. I knew every door in the building. I could outrun Phil if I had to.
“I think that Indian fish lady did it,” he said.
Tulia? He had to be kidding. “Why would she commit murder?”
“Because she wanted to rob my heritage of its one holiday. Change Columbus Day to Native People’s Day or whatever ridiculous thing they have in mind.”
Whoa. Racist much? “What about honoring the Wampanoag heritage?” I asked. “They were here long before Columbus.” I didn’t add that the explorer had never reached New England at all.
“So you’re on their side. I should have expected as much.”
I edged another step toward the side aisle.
“Don’t worry,” he scoffed in disgust. “The fuzz are keeping a close eye on my whereabouts. I know they’re following me. Some cop is probably out there right now, making sure I don’t ‘murder’ someone else.” He used finger quotes, but his scathing tone would have gotten the message across without them. “Why would I kill Annette? If I was convicted, it would leave my daughter an orphan.” His voice caught and he glanced away.
So he had a heart, after all. Or he had acting chops.
“Then you don’t have anything to worry about, do you?” I asked.
“If that Indian detective knew his job better, he’d have the real killer behind bars. Instead I get harassed from every corner.” Phil leaned toward me, his angry tone back in full force. “Including yours.” He strode toward the back and out the door.
I sank my newly wobbly self back down onto the pew. I was so done with going places in public alone, at least until Lincoln closed this case.