Mary pulled into the church parking lot in no frame of mind for the church service. She was tired, cranky and late. Not like her at all. She’d slept poorly, turning, tossing, dozing a little then waking up, unable to shake the thoughts that kept racing through her brain. Foremost was Dan’s reaction to Agnes’ extracurricular activities. He actually exploded. Better at her than at Agnes, but it hadn’t been pleasant.
‘What does that woman think she’s doing?’ he’d shouted over the phone. ‘If I’ve told her once I’ve told her a hundred times. She’s the office manager, not a cop.’
‘Is she?’
‘Is she what?’ Dan had stopped his tirade.
‘Is Agnes the office manager?’
Mary heard the pause with relief. At least he was thinking, not just yelling.
‘Not really, but she likes to think she is, and I’ve never thought it hurt to give her that title. Seemed to make her feel important.’
‘Agnes needs to feel important,’ Mary agreed.
‘She doesn’t need to feel so damned important she goes out on patrol without telling anyone. Can you imagine what might have happened if she’d stumbled on a robbery? She could have gotten herself killed, or worse, gotten someone else killed. She’s out of control.’
‘What about Gloria?’
Another pause. ‘Gloria.’ A sound came over the phone that Mary couldn’t identify. It seemed to be a combination of a groan, a gnashing of teeth and a swallowed curse.
Mary smiled. ‘Yes, Gloria. Agnes has a point. That is a strange hour for someone to be out wandering around. Do we know approximately what time Miss Emilie died?’
This time Mary had no trouble identifying the groan.
‘You and Ellen watch too much TV. The ME says most likely between midnight and two in the morning.’
‘Oh, dear.’ It was all Mary could think to say.
Was it possible Gloria could be the killer? Or involved in some way? Dan had gone on for some time, saying it didn’t prove anything; it proved so little they had no reason to even ask her why she was out roaming the street, and they certainly didn’t have cause to ask for a warrant to look at her bank records. The mention of bank records brought Mary up short. She hadn’t thought about that but, of course, if Gloria had set Miss Emilie up somehow and had taken the money she had to have put it somewhere. But in her bank account? Wouldn’t that be the last place someone would put stolen money? It would be the last place Mary would put it. But it had to be somewhere. Had Miss Emilie really given it to Gloria? Given Gloria’s track record they couldn’t rule out the possibility that, somehow, she’d tricked the old lady.
Mary had finally talked Dan out of firing Agnes, an act he’d have regretted but which Agnes probably deserved. She’d spent the night going over everything that had happened, trying to make sense of it. Had Miss Emilie gone back to the church hall looking for Willis or was it the clock she wanted? If so, why? Did it have something to do with the safe deposit key? Again, why? Dan said there was nothing in the box that mattered. However, by that he meant no money. Was there something else in there that mattered to someone? Mary couldn’t think what it might be. Had Miss Emilie put something in it recently or taken something out that someone wanted? The bank would have a record of who went into the box and when. But Glen would have checked.
Dan seemed to have dismissed the whole safe deposit thing, so her theory that the key wasn’t what whoever took the clock was expecting was probably right. That still didn’t answer who took it and what had they expected? Had Miss Emilie hidden the money somewhere and had whoever opened the clock thought there was a clue inside as to its whereabouts? When they hadn’t found one, had that same person tried to get Miss Emilie to tell them where it was and ended up strangling her? It was possible, she supposed, but likely? Those thoughts and a lot of others played tag most of the night. Mary had gotten up several times, to the consternation of Millie, to pace the floor, trying to put pieces together, but nothing made sense. The only thing that did was that someone was looking for that money and was determined to find it, no matter what the cost.
Finally, about four in the morning, she fell asleep. The only thing that woke her was Millie, standing on her chest, whining her need to go out. Mary had gotten out of bed in time for a quick shower and an even quicker cup of coffee before she had to be out the door. Millie hadn’t been happy when she realized she wasn’t included, but the grocery store and church were two places Millie wasn’t welcome. Mary found a parking spot on the fringe of the lot, quickly took it and threw open the car door. Another car pulled in right beside her, its occupant appearing just as frazzled as Mary felt.
‘Jackie Waller, just the person I wanted to talk to.’
‘Mary McGill. You’re late. Now that makes me feel better. You’re never late.’ Jackie smiled her wide toothy smile, grabbed Mary by the arm and started off toward the church at a trot. ‘Les won’t like it one bit if he’s already started the service.’
‘I know, and we can’t talk now.’ That came out a little breathlessly.
Jackie had a brisk trot.
‘Are you going to the fellowship gathering after the service? I have something I want to ask you.’
Jackie held the door for Mary to enter. She had just time to say, ‘You’ve piqued my curiosity. I’ll see you afterward.’
The first hymn was in progress when they entered and took seats toward the back.
The service was all about Miss Emilie. Les didn’t dwell upon the unhappy circumstances of her death, other than saying the police were investigating and if anyone had any piece of information, no matter how small, would they please contact the police department. He then went on to talk about her, about Eloise, about the family and what they had meant to Santa Louisa over the years, how Emilie’s gentle ways would be missed and how we had all been blessed to have had her in our lives. He weaved that into a sermon about goodness and kindness and how any one of us could, at some time, need the help of others, how we may have to depend on the generous nature of our brothers and sisters. Mary was certain she wasn’t the only one who needed a tissue as they left the church for the informal gathering in the Sunday school building.
Mary had been chairwoman of the hospitality committee that was responsible for refreshments after services for years, but last year, with so many other responsibilities, she had passed it off to Jessica Saunders, who was doing an excellent job. It gave her an unexpected pang, however, to walk into the hall and not immediately check the coffee level in the urn and make sure there were donuts and muffins on the tray, enough juice for the children and sugar and cream out for the adults. She was in the middle of giving herself a stern talking to, telling herself she couldn’t do everything and it was good someone else had stepped up when Jackie Waller interrupted her mental tirade.
‘Is this a good time or am I interrupting something important?’
Mary looked at her, startled, then smiled. ‘It’s actually a good time. I was just giving myself a little advice.’
‘Something we should all do more often,’ Jackie said with a straight face. ‘What did you want to ask me?’
‘Do you have coffee? Good.’ Mary motioned her to follow and led the way to a couple of chairs in one corner that was, at least for the moment, empty. ‘Sit down. This won’t take but a minute, but I did want to know … Oh, dear. Please don’t think I’m being nosy. There is a reason for all this.’
Jackie laughed and sat. ‘I promise I won’t. What’s all this about?’
Mary looked around. There was no telling when someone would come up, wanting her or Jackie’s attention. She needed to get right to the point. ‘Has Gloria Sutherland been in your place lately?’
Jackie’s jaw dropped, along with the hand that held her Styrofoam coffee cup. It sloshed but didn’t spill. ‘Gloria? Gloria Sutherland? Why on earth … no. I haven’t seen her in … oh … I don’t know how long. She used to come in for the fish and chips, but not lately. Why?’
‘By herself?’ Mary let her shoulders drop. Disappointment? Relief? She wasn’t sure. That Gloria hadn’t been in the Watering Hole didn’t prove anything one way or the other.
‘Yes.’ All traces of a smile left Jackie’s face. ‘By herself. Unfortunately she didn’t always stay that way. If there was a table with people she knew, no matter how slightly, she joined them. Just pulled up a chair and joined them. I’ve had customers walk out because of that. I’ve never known how to handle it and, I have to admit, I’ve been relieved she hasn’t been in.’
Mary felt a wave of sadness wash over her. To think someone was so inept at social skills … if that was what it was. Hadn’t she heard about some sort of personality disorder? Maybe that was Gloria’s problem, but it didn’t get her any further toward finding out what she was doing wandering around downtown at one in the morning.
Somebody was whistling. Mary looked around to see who it was but stopped when Jackie pulled her cell phone out of her jacket pocket.
Jackie looked at it, tapped in something then turned to Mary. ‘I have to go. We have Sunday morning brunch today and Liam says one of the providers didn’t show and he needs me. Now.’ She dropped her phone back in her purse but stopped long enough to give Mary a long look. ‘I don’t know why you’re asking questions about Gloria but I hope I’ve helped. One of these days, soon, I want to know what’s going on. OK?’
Mary had only enough time to nod before Jackie disappeared through the hall door. One question was answered, but she didn’t think it was an important one. Gloria hadn’t been in the Watering Hole that night. So what had she been doing wandering around town? As much as Mary didn’t want to admit it, the church hall was in the direction Agnes said Gloria had come from. Was that where she’d been? If so, how did she get in? Had she gone in or had she seen someone else go in? And come out? That still didn’t answer why she was out.
Maybe it was a coincidence that Gloria was out prowling around. Mary found coincidences suspicious. Gloria had, at one time, had a key to the Plym house. Did she still? Miss Emilie must have had help, if not getting out of the house then certainly getting into the church hall. Gloria knew the layout of the Plym house as well as she knew her own. She knew exactly where Miss Emilie’s room was and could probably get up and down the staircase without turning on the lights … Was there a nightlight somewhere? This was getting her nowhere. The only thing she knew for sure was Gloria wasn’t home in bed during the time Miss Emilie was killed. She looked around the room almost from habit, making sure everyone had what they needed, but her eyes came to an abrupt halt. Lorraine was in the kitchen, doing what Mary couldn’t see, but Caleb was standing beside Cassandra Brown and her brother, Richard Plym. They were talking with Les and they all looked very serious. Were they talking about the funeral? She’d better find out if they needed any help.
‘I didn’t expect to see you here this morning. I’m so glad you came.’ Mary used her most welcoming tone of voice.
Richard Plym glowered at her. Caleb scowled, but no more than usual.
Cassandra was the only one who smiled and it looked like it took a lot of effort.
‘Thank you,’ Cassandra said. She sounded as if saying even that was forced. ‘We felt we should come and hear what Reverend McIntyre had to say. It was a beautiful sermon.’
The look of distaste on Richard’s face seemed to encompass the hall, the people in it, the tepid coffee he held gingerly in one hand and the donut he held in the other. ‘There was nothing beautiful about it. There hasn’t been anything “beautiful” about any of this. That miserable old woman would have to go and get herself killed and leave all of her accounts in a mess. God knows how long it’s going to take to get them straightened out, and that know-it-all banker isn’t making matters any better. It’s what you get when you have small-town people with small minds in charge of things.’
Mary couldn’t have felt more paralyzed if she’d been turned into the proverbial pillar of salt. The smile on her face seemed pasted on, her hand, half outstretched, frozen. Had she heard right? Had Richard really said all those hateful things? He had.
‘I can’t stand here another minute, trying to drink this pig slop.’ Richard indicated his coffee by rolling his cup back and forth. Some of it sloshed on the floor. Richard ignored it. Instead, he turned to Cassandra. ‘I’m leaving. Are you coming?’
Cassandra’s face was beet red, with rage or embarrassment, Mary wasn’t sure. Probably both. She managed to shake her head. ‘I’ll walk.’
Richard paused for only a moment, then shrugged. ‘Suit yourself.’ He turned on the heel of his highly polished loafer, pausing only long enough to dump both coffee and donut in the trash container that sat beside the door.
Caleb watched him go without a word then glanced at Cassandra. ‘Nice guy, your brother. Real polite and all.’ Then he turned on the heel of his unpolished work boot and stalked off toward the kitchen, muttering things Mary was sure she didn’t want to hear under his breath. He grabbed Lorraine by the arm and pulled her over to the back of the kitchen. His face contorted, his fist upraised, Mary watched Lorraine shake her head and, for one awful moment, thought that Caleb’s fist was going to meet Lorraine’s nose. No. He hovered right in front of her, pushed her up against the counter and stormed out the same door Richard had used. Was he going after Richard? Mary hoped not. They’d had enough trouble to last out the year; they didn’t need any more.
Les stood beside Mary, also in shock. ‘I’d better go see if Lorraine is all right.’
Mary could barely make out his words but she saw the pitying look he gave Cassandra. So did Cassandra. Mary heard the little hiss as she sucked in a breath. They both watched Les as he approached Lorraine, who hadn’t moved since Caleb stormed out. Les took her by the arm and led her to a chair right next to the kitchen door. He placed her in it, pulled another up to sit beside her, leaned over and started to talk. Mary took a deep breath of relief as Lorraine answered him. Mary turned her attention to Cassandra, whose face had faded to the color of white bread.
‘Oh, Mary. I’m so sorry. Richard is … He’s never been easy but … He’s gotten so much worse since … He’s acting like a pompous ass.’
Mary thought that evaluation grossly understated, but she didn’t say so. ‘Since what?’
Cassandra blanched. Mary didn’t think she was going to answer, but suddenly it all came out. ‘Since the furniture stores took a nosedive and his wife took a hike.’
Mary blinked as she stared at Cassandra. That sentence contained more clichés than Mary thought necessary, but she’d gotten her point across. ‘You mean his wife left him?’
Cassandra nodded.
‘Oh, dear. How awful. Do they have children?’
Cassandra nodded again. ‘Josh is about to graduate from college and Annabelle is a sophomore majoring in chemistry, of all things. As far as Tiffany is concerned, it’s no loss. She stuck it out as long as the money flowed freely. As soon as it slowed to a trickle, she left.’
Cassandra’s face had tightened into a scowl and her voice had an edge Mary had never heard from her before.
It seemed a good time to change the subject. ‘He has a furniture store?’
‘Stores. Four of them. Very upscale. He sells to the very rich or the people who decorate the homes of the very rich. Only, these last few years, even the very rich have cut back. He’s closed one of the stores and has turned two of them into stores for the rest of us. You know, lounge chairs with footrests, sofa beds and coffee tables with never-mar tops. He could hardly bring himself to do it but it was either that or close them. I think he’s just holding on until this recovery we’re supposed to be going through is complete. But that’s no excuse for the way he’s acting.’ She sighed, a shuddery kind of sigh. ‘I don’t know why I agreed to let him come with me. I knew he’d make trouble.’ There was what sounded like a sob in her voice as she said this. She stood a little straighter and took a deep breath. ‘There’s some money missing. Glen Manning told me about it. I came out here to see what was going on. That’s why Richard insisted on coming. But so far we have no idea where it is and it’s driving him crazy.’ She sniffed again, hitched her purse up higher on her shoulder and tried to smile. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to dump all this on you but I seem to keep doing it.’ She blinked rapidly then sighed. ‘I’d better go see if Lorraine’s all right. Caleb isn’t any easier.’
She turned and walked toward Lorraine, who still sat hunched over in the folding chair.
Mary watched for a minute then looked around. The hall was emptying quickly. She started to follow Cassandra but stopped. Cassandra already had her arm around Lorraine, almost protectively. Les said something to them both and went into the kitchen.
Mary veered off and went into the kitchen as well. ‘Les.’
He stopped and waited for her. ‘This has been a Sunday morning to remember.’
‘Is Lorraine all right?’ Mary glanced around the kitchen but the only two volunteers left were busy collecting empty cups and crumpled napkins, putting leftover donuts in boxes and washing down the sink. No one was paying any attention to them. Nonetheless, she kept her voice low.
There were worry lines around Les’ eyes and an uncertain tone in his voice. ‘I think so. Lorraine’s been getting more and more edgy for a while now, and I’m not too sure why.’
‘Since Miss Eloise had her stroke?’
Les nodded. ‘I know she was worried about Miss Emilie, but she really seemed upset when she found out Cassandra and Richard were coming to see for themselves how bad she’d gotten. All that talk about putting her in Shady Acres really bothered Lorraine.’
Mary nodded. ‘She told me Caleb wants to move them into the mobile home they have out in Almond Tree Acres. She doesn’t want to go.’
‘She told me, also, but I think there’s something else.’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know. I wondered if it might be something to do with their son. I think he’d like his mother to move to Seattle to be near him, but he can’t stand Caleb, so that would be … difficult.’
Again, Mary nodded. ‘Difficult, indeed, but if I was Lorraine I’d jump at the chance. Life with Caleb can’t have been easy.’
Les laughed – a wry kind of laugh. ‘Just what I was thinking. And now she’s got two difficult men to deal with. At least Richard’s sister seems nice. I think she likes Lorraine, so maybe she can help.’
Mary wasn’t so sure, but there wasn’t much she could do about it and she wanted to get home to Millie. She glanced at the chair where Lorraine had sat. It was empty, so there was no reason for her to stay. Something caught her eye as she turned to go. There, right beside the kitchen door, hanging on a hook, were two cardboard key holders, the initials SMCH in bright orange letters proclaiming where they belonged and what door they unlocked. ‘Les, look.’
‘At what?’
‘Keys. Right there. Keys to the community hall.’
‘Yes. I’ve asked the ladies to hang them there when they’re finished so we don’t keep losing them.’
‘Do you know who hung those?’
A slight flush crept up Les’ neck and over his cheeks. ‘Well, no. I guess whoever is going to open up the room for an event just takes one and puts it back when finished.’
Mary looked at him, appalled. When she was head of the hospitality committee the management of the keys was not handled so … carelessly was the only word she could come up with. ‘Les, have you told Dan how you handle the keys?’
‘I just started this system. I hope we can keep better track this way. It’s easier than handing out a key every time someone wants to use the hall or to put something away or …’ The worried look in his eyes intensified. ‘I know the other way was lax. Do you think …’
‘I think this is even more … inefficient. We need to get a locksmith out to rekey everything and then come up with some kind of system where we have control of who has a key and when they return it. There’s enough money in the treasury to do that. Let’s take it up at the next board meeting.’
Les nodded, a bit sadly. ‘I’m sure you’re right. Can you call the locksmith?’
Mary started to protest but stopped. As chairperson of the steering committee she would have no problem getting the board to authorize the expense, but she’d have to get some estimates. It was one more thing to add to her list, but the work had to be done and, if she did it, she’d know it had been done. ‘As soon as the board agrees. I’d better get home. Millie is all alone and she’s not too fond of that. I’m going to see Dan this afternoon. I’ll be sure to tell him about the keys. I don’t see how it helps much, but he should know.’
Les nodded, still looking miserable, but he turned to thank the last of the volunteers who were also getting ready to leave. Mary checked to make sure she had her car keys and walked out of the hall doorway, pulling the door closed behind her. It was a good thing she had a short drive home through streets that would be largely deserted this time on a Sunday morning. Her mind was full to bursting with things that had nothing to do with oncoming traffic and stop lights.