A Wedding and a Killing (15 page)

Chapter Thirteen

“Where’s Brewster and Fletcher?” David asked Chelsea as if she would know the answer when he pulled his SUV into the church parking lot to find their cruisers empty. It was difficult locating the cruisers in the lot filled with cars, SUVs, and trucks. It looked like every light in the church was on. Christian rock music wafted from inside.

“They must be having some sort of event,” Chelsea told him when he opened the door to help her out.

“On Wednesday night?” David opened the rear door. Molly jumped out and took her place at Chelsea’s side.

“Some churches have services in the middle of the week.”

David draped his arm across her shoulders. “Well, I just want to check on Fletcher and Brewster, and then we’ll go out to dinner.”

“Good, I’m starved.” Wrapping her arms around his waist, she gazed up at him.

The naughty arch of her eyebrow, framing her light blue eyes, excited him. He pulled her in closer to press her body against his. “Well, we’re going to have to do something about that,” he breathed before covering her mouth with his to give her a long kiss.

When they finally parted, she sighed. “Dessert at my place?”

But David wasn’t paying attention. Behind her, he recognized Bogie’s cruiser parked next to Mac’s red Dodge Viper. “What’s going on here?” He pushed her away when he spotted Ben Fleming’s black Ferrari.

“Oh, Chief O’Callaghan,” Edna greeted him when he flew through the doors, “just in time.” Carrying a plate filled with food, she was heading toward her office. “Carmine brought out a fresh lasagna. It’s got Italian sausage in it.” She pointed her fork across the foyer to the fellowship hall. “You better hurry. Your men finished off the last platter in twelve minutes flat.” She patted Molly on the head. “Carmine also baked a batch of dog biscuits this afternoon. You’ll find Gnarly in the children’s chapel doing tricks for cookies.”

David stepped into the fellowship hall to find it filled with tables and people eating, talking, and laughing. Board games were set up on some tables. People overflowed into the sanctuary where some young people were playing Twister. “Is this a party?” He turned to Edna. “Where are my officers? They’re supposed to be keeping an eye on Ruth Buchanan.”

“They are.” Edna stepped into the hall and pointed toward the fireplace. “They couldn’t keep any closer of an eye on her if they were sitting in her lap.”

David followed the tip of her fork to a table where Officer Fletcher was standing up to tell a story while gesturing wildly with his arms. The table was filled with uniformed officers—some of whom had not been assigned to watch Ruth Buchanan, but appeared to have stopped in for their dinner break. The next table over contained Brewster, Bogie, Mac, Ben Fleming and his wife Catherine, Ed Willingham, Reverend Deborah, and Ruth Buchanan. Plates of food, in various stages of consumption, filled the table.

Edna was right. They couldn’t keep a closer eye on Ruth Buchanan.

“Chief O’Callahgan!” Carmine grabbed David into a tight bear hug. It wasn’t until he let David up for air that the police chief saw that Carmine was wearing a white apron and chef’s hat. “Eat! Eat! And you need to hurry. This group doesn’t let any food sit for long. Lucky for you, I have been cooking all afternoon. Good thing I got a delivery from the wholesaler today.”

He led David by the elbow to the steamer tables filled with hot food. Three more tables were filled with covered dishes, including huge desserts. “Make room for the Big Cheese!” Carmine called out while plowing through the mob that had surrounded the buffet tables. “The Big Cheese gets to go through first.”

Abruptly, Carmine stopped, let go of David’s arm, and turned around. “Where are my manners? Ladies first.” He reached out to take Chelsea’s hand to guide her to the buffet table and, with a deep bow, handed her a plate. “Make room for the Big Cheese’s lovely lady, and then the Big Cheese!” He threw out his arms. “Enjoy!” It sounded like an order.

In spite of the humongous array of food, all within inches of her snout, Molly remained next to her master’s side, showing little reaction to the dozens of hands that petted her while they made their way along the table. Giving suggestions for dishes to try, Carmine ushered them along. Refusal was not an option. If they showed any hesitation, Carmine would grab the serving spoon and heap some onto their plate regardless.

After their plates were filled to overflowing, Carmine gave them one final order. “Don’t forget to leave room for dessert.” With a gravy ladle, the chef pointed over to two tables filled with cakes, cookies, and what David recognized as a dessert made up of brownies and whipped cream called Death by Chocolate.

Chelsea was already weaving through the tables to the center attraction in front of the fireplace. Brewster jumped up out of his seat and held out his chair for her. Next to Ruth, Bogie was doing the same for David.

“What’s the occasion?” David asked Reverend Deborah who was eating an array of desserts resting before her.

“I guess if you want to name it, it’s a vigil of justice,” the pastor said. “Ruth can’t leave the building without being taken into custody. So she’s trapped here. Everyone came out to show her that she’s not alone. Then, Carmine brought his catering truck filled with food. We decided to play some music. Our youth group broke out the games.” She gestured to the crowd that had gathered. “It just sort of happened.”

“Best surveillance I’ve ever been on,” Fletcher said over his saucer of Death by Chocolate while standing behind the police chief. If he dropped his dessert, it would have landed on David’s head. “They should all be like this.”

Edna returned from her office to whisper into Deborah’s ear.

Sadness crossed Deborah’s face. “Being among all of our friends, I forgot all about Eugene … and Marilyn.” She choked.

“I think that maybe you should talk to her,” Edna said with a sob in her voice. “I told her where to go, but I think she needs a little bit more than that.”

“I’ll talk to her,” Deborah replied while wiping her mouth. “I’ll go over there, too. She really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” She told those around the table. “It’s Marilyn.”

“She’s lost,” Edna explained.

“Lost?” Catherine Fleming asked.

“In the grocery store,” Edna said. “She couldn’t find where they hid the maple syrup, and then it seemed to hit her that Eugene will never be bringing home the maple syrup ever again and she broke down—right there in the middle of the tissue aisle. The store manager took her to her office and she called us.”

“Well, I guess if you’re going to break down, the tissue aisle is as good of a place as any,” Fletcher muttered behind David’s back.

Edna paused to swallow. “It’s those little things that bring it all home.”

After Deborah left the table, Brewster held out her chair in an offer to Edna. “Would you like some dessert, Miss Edna? If you wait too long, Fletcher will polish it off before you get any.”

The raven-haired assistant hesitated while regarding the muscular officer with dark curly hair. His mustache stretched across his face when he grinned at her. An expression of uncertainty crossed her face. “Well, I’d hate to hurt Carmine’s feelings by leaving some of his Death by Chocolate behind.” She slipped into the offered chair and Officer Brewster hurried off to get her dessert.

“I hope you’re not mad, Chief,” Fletcher said. “More and more people were coming in. We heard the music. And then Pastor Deborah came out and told us that we could keep a closer eye on Ruth inside and there was no reason why we should go hungry.” He shrugged. “She had a point.”

“I was the one who suggested they contact the rest of your officers to come get some dinner,” Edna confessed. “I mean, why should they miss out on such a fun stakeout? Right?”

“True. Why should they?” David agreed while looking at his forkful of lasagna. “Thank you for inviting them. That’s very nice of you considering that they’re waiting to arrest Ruth.”

Behind David’s back, Fletcher shot a thumbs up to his partner when he returned with a plate of the chocolate dessert. The officers around the table smiled at each other. They weren’t in trouble after all.

Uncomfortably, David became aware of Chelsea bowing her head to murmur a prayer.
I guess I should say grace?
He noticed Bogie peering at him from under his bushy eyebrows. The deputy chief cocked his head.

David dropped his head to look at his hands.
Oh, Lord, thank you for this food and get me through this case without getting my head slapped by a church lady.

“Where’s Archie?” Chelsea asked Mac.

“She’s flying up to New York to prep things for our investigation,” Mac said.

“I can’t believe all these years I’ve been carrying around this guilt for killing Jason when I hadn’t,” Ruth said. “It makes sense now. I couldn’t understand how he had died from a shot to his leg. My first shot hit his shoulder, not his chest.”

“Have you given anymore thought as to who Madame X could have been?” Mac asked her. “Or would Jason have called his mistress after you left to come help him?”

“Obviously, Jason had enemies,” Willingham said. “The copy of the autopsy report shows that he had been shot with a stun gun.”

“That sounds like maybe his mistress,” Ruth said. “They had to have had a fight. I think that was why Jason came home early. He accused me of talking to her. He must have gone to see her and she wouldn’t see him.”

“Worse, if he had electrical burns from a stun gun,” Willingham said.

“Did she have enough money to give you fifty thousand dollars to start over?” Mac asked her.

“She did seem to have a lot of money,” Ruth said.

“But would she be willing to part with that much cash to frame you for killing Jason?” Mac asked. “That seems like going overboard for revenge on a man for beating her?”

“If a woman is abused long and hard enough, they are capable of anything,” Chelsea said. “They can become so desperate for relief, and yes, revenge, that they stop thinking straight.”

“Like maybe she had an abusive lover before,” Mac mused, “and when Jason hit her, it was the last straw?”

“Maybe,” Chelsea said.

“We’ll take a closer look into her background,” Willingham said.

“What about Eugene’s murder?” Edna reminded them of the tragedy that had brought Ruth’s past to light.

“We do have a couple of suspects,” David said.

“Are you sure it wasn’t Chip?” Edna asked.

“Positive,” David said. “His gun was the wrong caliber and he was already dead at the time of Eugene’s murder.”

“How bizarre,” she said with a shake of her head. “So much tragedy on the same day.”

“Studies have shown that violent crimes increase during a full moon,” Chelsea said. “Like the rising and lowering of the tide, they will happen in waves.”

“They also say things happen in threes,” Edna said, “but I don’t believe that.”

“I don’t either,” Chelsea said, “but the whole full moon theory has been researched and it has been determined that some people do have a chemical imbalance when the moon is full as opposed to other phases of the moon.”

“I can attest to that,” Bogie said. “All my years on the force, I can tell you, when the moon is full, that is when people go nuts. Crime rate will shoot up and the cases will get crazier.”

“As unreasonable as Helga is, I just find it so hard to believe she would actually shoot Eugene because she believed she stood a chance of becoming chief trustee with him gone,” Edna said. “That’s crazy.” She shrugged. “But then, she always did strike me as a little delusional about her importance. But I never thought she was capable of killing anyone.” She took a bite of the dessert and smiled. “Thank you, Officer Brewster.”

“Anytime, ma’am.” He grinned back at her.

“I just can’t believe a member of our church would do such a thing.” Edna glanced around the table. “Everyone loved Eugene—especially Marilyn.”

“Who has already booked a cruise to Hawaii,” David said.

“I know,” Edna said. “She invited me to go with her. I’d go but I don’t know what I’d do with my daughters.”

“Daughters?” Brewster’s face fell.

“Two,” Edna said. “Nine and a seven year old.”

“Edna is divorced,” Bogie said in Brewster’s direction.

The smile returned to the officer’s face.

Seemingly oblivious to the point of Bogie’s communication, Edna continued eating while saying, “You have to understand about Marilyn and Eugene, Chief O’Callaghan.”

“I know,” David said, “a cruise was on her bucket list of what to do after Eugene kicked the bucket.”

“She’s got an air-tight alibi,” Bogie said. “Plus, Marilyn hasn’t skipped town. It looks like Helga Thorpe has.”

“That explains why Sirrus looked so happy when he came in this afternoon,” Edna said.

“Sirrus Thorpe was here?” Mac asked. “Why’d he come in?”

“Oh, he comes in practically every day,” Edna said. “He’s relatively new to the church. Helga has been coming for several years.” Pausing in her eating, she stared at her half-eaten dessert before resuming. “Thirteen years. I’ve been here five years. I moved here from Pennsylvania after my husband walked out on us. It wasn’t until the last year and a half that Sirrus started coming.”

“And he comes in every day?” Mac asked.

“He’s got a very successful business to run—” David said.

“From what he tells me, Helga is the one running the business,” Edna said.

“What does he do while he’s here?” Mac asked.

“Fix-it up type stuff,” Edna said. “Very often new Christians will dive in. It’s like they want to make up for a lifetime of sin and they want to absorb everything connected to the church. So they’ll contribute in every way possible to the church—their time, their money, their talents. Not a day goes by that Sirrus doesn’t come in to fix something. As old as this building is, and as short as we are on funds, there’s always something that needs fixed. Today, he came in to fix the leaky toilet in the lady’s room.”

“Was he one of the members that we fingerprinted?” David asked Bogie.

The deputy chief shook his head.

“Oh, you’ll find his fingerprints all over the building,” Edna laughed. “But he doesn’t have a key, so he couldn’t have let himself in—unless he used Helga’s. All of the trustees have keys to the building.”