Jolly Dead St. Nicholas (26 page)

Adelaide tugged her coat out from behind Ethel’s back none too gently. Ethel made a small grunting noise but didn’t get up.

In the hallway, after Carl’s door was firmly shut behind them, Adelaide turned to Vernon. “What was that all about? I don’t appreciate being given the bum’s rush.” She strode toward the elevators, tugging on her coat as she went.

Vernon helped her with the garment, trying to keep pace. “I’m beginning to agree with you, Adelaide. I’m wondering why Carl didn’t mention Jerry’s comments to the police.”

“I’m beginning to wonder if Douglas Underwood has become the convenient scapegoat for everything that goes wrong in that church. Why would he steal cash from the offering plate? His wife is rich.”

“Maybe she cut off the tap. He was a chronic cheater, according to what’s come out so far, and Susan obviously has expensive tastes,” Vernon suggested. “A minister’s salary would hardly cover that.”

“The Underwoods have been married for a long time. Why cut off the money now? Besides, Susan didn’t indicate to me that she demanded Douglas buy her expensive things. Her husband supplied her with all the money and trinkets she wanted, which, by the way, is the reason she gave me for not wanting to divorce him. Besides how much could he have taken at a time without it being obvious? Twenty, forty, fifty? That’s pocket change to a man in Douglas’s situation. It just doesn’t make sense.”

The elevator doors slid open. Once they entered the car, Adelaide leaned against the back wall, feeling the vibration as the machinery lowered them to the first floor.

In the Escalade, as they turned from Dogwood Avenue onto Buckeye Street, Vernon said, “I need to get back to the pharmacy. Would you like to have dinner tonight? I’ll cook at my place.”

Adelaide thought that sounded tempting but not tonight. “I’m beat. I have some stops to make, then I’m going home. The only thing in my future tonight is a nice, hot bath followed by an early bedtime. How about a rain check?”

“Sure,” Vernon told her as he turned into the funeral home parking lot where her car was parked. He turned sideways in the seat, staring intently at her. “Let Daniel be the detective here, Adelaide. It’s what he’s paid to do.”

Opening the passenger door, Adelaide got out of the vehicle. Turning back to Vernon she said, “There’s something at play here that has nothing to do with Susan and Douglas’s affair. I can feel it. We’re missing an important component. If someone was taking money from the offering and it wasn’t Carl, Douglas or Jerry, then we have a very clever thief in our midst, possibly a murderer as well!”

* * * *

Adelaide didn’t go home. Instead she drove to the parsonage. She saw James Preston’s familiar Ford Taurus in the driveway. Sitting in front of it was Douglas’s Nissan.

She parked as close to the curb as possible, considering how much snow lay piled up there from various plowings. Quickly exiting her Camry, she hurried up onto the porch and rang the doorbell. After a few seconds she rang it again. From inside she heard a sharp bark.

When the door opened she was face to face with James. At his heels was Suzie, his six-year-old blonde cocker spaniel. The minister’s face lit up with a big smile at the sight of her. “Douglas and I were just talking about you, Adelaide. Come in.” He stepped back, gesturing her into the living room with a wave of his pudgy hand. The trousers he wore were gray, his long-sleeve shirt navy blue. There was a chef’s apron folded in half tied around his ample waist. The aroma of chicken and herbs filled the air. She bent to pet Suzie, who wagged her stub of a tail furiously before trotting off in the direction of the kitchen.

“So, I was being discussed? That must be why my ears are ringing. Something smells delicious,” Adelaide said, looking around. The only pieces of furniture left in the living room were a sofa, end table and lamp. Looking through the archway into the dining room, Adelaide could see it was empty.

“We were discussing how helpful you’ve been in solving other crimes in town through the years.”

She knew what he was getting at. “I’m no expert at crime solving, James, you know that.”

His smile widened. “Don’t be so modest. I know you’ll do all you can to help Douglas, won’t you?”

Before she could respond, Douglas joined them. He wore a pair of jeans with a yellow sweater. “Why don’t you have dinner with us, Adelaide, It’s almost ready.” His voice sounded stronger than the last time she’d spoken with him. He also looked better. His hair was neatly trimmed, his eyes clear and bright. James being here was obviously having a good effect on Douglas.

“By all means!” James said heartily. He took her coat, hanging it in the small closet near the front door.

Adelaide’s stomach gave a growl, reminding her she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She’d had no time to even grab a finger sandwich at Susan’s after the funeral. “I think I just might take you up on that.”

James returned to the kitchen, leaving Adelaide alone with Douglas. She wasted no time. “I need to ask you something, Douglas. Mind if I sit down?”

He blushed. “I’m sorry. I have no manners evidently. Add that to my many sins, I guess.”

Once they were seated side by side on the sofa, Adelaide said, “I need to know if, during the months of September, October or November, Jerry ever discussed a decrease in the cash offering.”

“Not that I recall.” He looked a little confused. “Was it a matter of concern for him?”

“Evidently. He mentioned it to Carl. He also said something to Susan. He said he was worried but that he hoped to make it right…without involving the police.”

“If giving was down a little I’m not surprised, now that you mention it. People have been struggling since L&C closed.” Douglas met her gaze. She saw no deception there.

“But you didn’t have any conversations with Jerry about it? Did Susan mention anything about what he said to her?”

Douglas’s lip lifted slightly in a half smile. “I’m afraid I was…distracted during that time. Under the circumstances, I often tried to avoid direct contact with him. As for Susan, our conversations were more on a personal level.” His smile turned into more of a grimace. “No sense being coy about it now, is there? The whole town, police included, plus the D.S. and the bishop know about our affair. By the way, I was served with divorce papers today. Fran isn’t wasting any time.”

“Tell me something else, Douglas. Do you have any idea when Jerry found out about your involvement with Susan?”

“I know exactly when it was. The Thursday before he was killed. I understand you overheard the argument I had with him in the hallway outside my study on Friday. Evidently, he and Susan had that big fight on their front porch the night before that Ethel Henshaw overheard. Jerry followed Susan to church when she left for choir practice. He caught sight of her coming out of my study later. I’m sure he saw all he needed to confirm his suspicions. Evidently other church members have seen things too, which they were all too happy to share with the authorities. And here I thought we were being so discreet. Truthfully, considering all the evidence the police were able to assemble, I’m surprised I’m not languishing in a jail cell right now.”

“I’m so sorry, Douglas.”

“We were careless and stupid. We e-mailed each other love notes constantly. I’m sure by now the police have a nice file of those e-mails from both our computers.” He ran a hand over his face as though trying to wipe away haunting images.

“Yet I heard from a reliable source that your in-laws don’t believe you killed Jerry.”

He emitted a hoarse chuckle. “Too bad they don’t have any influence with the district attorney in this county.”

James came back into the room. “Dinner is served. Come on, my herb roasted chicken is the best in the state, even if I do say so myself.” He glanced from one of them to the other, a questioning look on his face, but said nothing more.

The meal lived up to its reputation. The chicken was golden brown yet tender, the new potatoes buttery and full of flavor. The delightfully savory green beans were still a little firm, just the way Adelaide liked them. Dessert was lemon pound cake sprinkled with powdered sugar.

Adelaide ate like she was starving, but she noticed that Douglas was picking around at his food. Their earlier conversation probably spoiled whatever good mood he’d managed to muster. On the other hand, James kept the conversation going as he talked about his sons Matthew and Luke, one a veterinarian, the other a teacher in Cincinnati.

Adelaide left the two ministers at eight o’clock. On the way home she called Daniel, but his cell phone went straight to voice mail. When she called the station, she was told he’d left for the day about an hour earlier. She debated about whether she should go by his place, finally deciding against it. These days she could never be sure he would be alone, what with Brenda now having a key. So, in the end, she went home to Oscar and that hot bath.

The weekly edition of the
Crescent Falls Tribune
on Thursday morning carried a front page story about Jerry Hatfield’s funeral. It was like a who’s-who of town society. Julie Buckner Simpson had outdone herself this time. Adelaide sat at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and nibbling on a croissant as she read the article with mounting disdain. It had the tone of a tabloid expose’ with lots of innuendos loosely strung together with various conjectures. One of those conjectures was who would replace Jerry Hatfield on town council. There were lots of opinions on that one, although Julie didn’t mention her sources by name. The front runner for the empty seat seemed to be Tim Hunter, the local auto repair shop owner. Also expressing an interest, according to Julie’s rambling prose, was Zelda Jackson. Adelaide snorted with disgust.

Not a chance!
Thank goodness it is up to the mayor to appoint someone. Now how does that by-law read? Oh yes, council members can nominate, but the mayor makes the final decision. Carl is mayor. He’d never let a gossipy busybody like Zelda on the council. Tim, however, would be a good choice if he’d accept.

At the end of the article Lloyd Fletcher was quoted as saying
We need someone with an eye to the future, not someone who wants to stay stuck in the quagmire of provincial thinking
.

In other words, someone in favor of building a casino in Crescent Falls. Obviously Lloyd won’t be backing either Zelda or Tim for that seat. I wonder who he has in mind.

Reading the article below the fold, Adelaide was again aghast. Julie featured the murder investigation, quoting sources
within law enforcement.
The gist of it was that Douglas Underwood most likely killed his lover’s husband to clear the way for the two of them to be together. The life insurance policy was mentioned, of course, making the insinuation clear that money was a secondary motive. That in turn implied that Susan was an accomplice. Fran Underwood was mentioned, including the fact that divorce papers had been filed. Julie covered herself well by using the word
alleged
more times than Adelaide cared to count when referring to Douglas.

Adelaide finished her coffee. Getting up from the table, her croissant half eaten, she tossed the newspaper into the trash can. She wrapped the rest of the croissant and put it in the refrigerator.

Oscar meowed loudly from his favorite spot on the dining room windowsill. She joined him, looking out at the white landscape. Today was sunny with no more snow predicted in the near future. Of course this was Ohio, so that could change in a heartbeat.

Christmas is almost here. Dear Lord, we need for this nightmare to be over by then. The real killer is out there somewhere, all too willing to let Douglas take the fall.

James Preston’s assumption that she was working to clear Douglas preyed on her mind. She needed to get her thoughts organized, bounce ideas off someone. A sit-down session with Daniel was in order. Maybe her son wouldn’t welcome her assistance, but she felt she had to try. There were some things he needed to know. She stroked Oscar’s head as he continued to make little clacking noises. The cardinals were crowded around the bird feeder, which was nearly empty. She made a mental note to fill it on her way out this morning.

* * * *

It was almost ten o’clock when Adelaide entered the police station. She waved a greeting at dispatcher Mindy Cooper, who was taking a call. Walking between two rows of desks, she saw that Lieutenant Luke Fagan was just hanging up his phone. She stopped for a moment.

“Mrs. McBride.” He got to his feet. “How about a cup of coffee? You look chilled to the bone.”

She glanced toward Daniel’s office. He was on the phone. It didn’t look like he was very happy with the conversation. “I see Daniel’s busy. I think a cup of coffee would be great.”

She wasn’t really that cold, since she was wearing a pair of blue woolen slacks, a red sweater, and her down filled jacket. But she did want to talk to Luke for a moment, privately.

Luke motioned her toward the kitchenette, next to her son’s office. “We’ve got muffins and donuts from Dora’s Diner this morning. I think that apple cinnamon muffin has your name on it.”

She’d always liked Luke. He was an honest, hardworking man. He’d made the transition from the large Columbus force to this smaller one effortlessly five years earlier. “So how is Betty? She wasn’t at the Historical Society meeting Monday evening.” She sat down with her coffee at small oak table in the corner. The muffin looked good, especially since she’d left most of her croissant untouched at home.

“She wasn’t having a very good day Monday, sorry to say. The MS is getting worse. The doctor is trying some new treatments. We’re hopeful.” He brought his coffee mug to the table, sitting down opposite her.

Betty Fagan had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis four years before. With two children to raise, it was a devastating blow to the couple. “I’m so sorry, Luke. How are the kids doing?” Frank was now sixteen, Pamela twelve.

“Hanging in there. Frank wants to get a job after school. He’s interested in auto repair, so Tim Hunter has offered to let him work in the shop on Saturdays.”