Jolly Dead St. Nicholas (32 page)

Hal “Buck” Buckner was a large, good natured man with snow white hair and clear blue eyes. He’d been a widower for several years. Adelaide suspected he would remain so until he died. His wife, Alice, had been the love of his life.

“Well, Adelaide, it’s good to see you here today. It’s been a while since you’ve come in the store.”

“A lot has been happening, Buck,” Adelaide replied. She was always careful about what she said around this man lest it end up in one of Julie’s newspaper articles. His other two children, Jimmy and Harry, helped him run the family business. Harry was also a volunteer fireman as well as a part-time bartender at Marty’s Pub. “I saw Harry at the fire the other night. Does he know they’ve called in an arson investigator?”

Buck shot her a glance that was hard to read. “Arson? He didn’t say anything about that to me.”

Adelaide wasn’t sure whether she believed him or not. Buck moved away with an armload of canned goods.

Gayle Nelson muttered something. She was standing within listening distance so Adelaide was sure she’d heard their conversation.

“Did you say something?” Adelaide looked sideways at the petite woman. Her hair was tied back at the nape of her neck with a white ribbon.

Gayle focused her emerald green eyes on Adelaide. “I said if we have a casino here this time next year we won’t have nearly as many boxes to fill. Many of our people will have jobs again.”

An avid proponent of the casino idea, Gayle had been lobbying for months in favor of the proposal.

Adelaide carried several items to her table, placing them in one of the boxes. Gayle was close on her heels with an armload of her own.

“Tell me, Gayle, why are you really so in favor of the casino?” Adelaide asked, although she thought she already knew the answer.

Gayle placed her items in a box then turned to face Adelaide. “Look, aside from the obvious reason that people here need jobs, all of those casinos have a mall area with little shops. I intend to apply for a permit to open a second gift shop in their mall. Can you imagine the exposure? All those people with money to spend coming into my shop at the casino? The ones who don’t gamble will come into my store on Main Street. It could double my sales.”

“So your backing of the casino idea is purely a business decision,” Adelaide said with disdain.

Gayle bristled a little. “You make it sound so cold.”

“I suppose I do.” Cold wasn’t exactly the word Adelaide had in mind but it would suffice.

At that moment Dora hurried by their table, stopping for just a moment. “Oh, Gayle, I can’t wait until Tuesday. It’s going to be such fun. How many do we have so far?”

Gayle held Adelaide’s gaze for a second longer before replying to Dora. “Twenty. The bus leaves for Columbus at nine sharp.”

Adelaide was at a loss. “You’re going to Columbus by bus?”

Dora chuckled. “A casino run. The Royal Aces. Tuesday is ladies’ day. They’re giving away four new cars plus four ten-thousand-dollar prizes.” She moved on.

Adelaide sighed, ruing the day that the citizens of Ohio had finally voted in favor of casinos.

Brie and Tim Hunter arrived next. As Tim headed for the office, Brie joined Adelaide.

“I’ve already sold two necklaces and one bracelet from the jewelry you dropped off at the shop. They’re so beautiful, I doubt if they stay on the shelf long,” Brie said.

Tendrils of Brie’s strawberry blonde hair stuck out from beneath a bright orange stocking cap. When she whipped off the cap, static electricity made her hair stand up on end. She ran a hand quickly through the curls. The smattering of freckles across her narrow nose seemed quite pronounced, confirming that she wore little makeup.

“I’m glad to hear that. I kind of had my eye on one of the bracelets. In fact, put it back for me. It’s the coral and black one,” Adelaide told her. She’d intended to purchase it the day of the bazaar, but Jerry’s murder wiped all such thoughts from her mind.

“Will do. There’s a lot of help today, but a lot to do. I guess I should get moving.”

“Don’t you and Tim have an anniversary coming up?” Adelaide asked before Brie could walk away.

“You remember everything, I swear. Yep. It’s Monday. Three years.” She grinned. Moving closer, she said in a low tone, “I still feel like I’m on my honeymoon. That man is amazing!” She let out a little giggle.

“Well, here you are!”

James Preston joined Adelaide as Brie walked away.

Adelaide turned to look at him. He was dressed casually in a pair of black slacks and a tan sweater. She caught a whiff of aftershave, something resembling sandalwood. Before she could respond to James’s greeting, Vernon strode toward them, a smile on his face.

“Looks like there’s plenty of help today. Glad to see you here, Reverend,” Vernon said. He shook hands with James.

For some reason, Adelaide felt a little awkward as the men exchanged pleasantries. In fact, the moment took her back a few decades to when she, Albert and Vernon were together as teens, standing in the hallway at school. It was that same feeling she’d had then, like she was a prize they were both vying for.

Get over yourself, Adelaide. James and Vernon are not teenage boys and you’re hardly the class ingénue.

Yet there was something in the air, a subtle tension between the two men as they stood there talking.

Adelaide turned back to the task at hand, packing the three boxes in front of her. The next thing she knew, James was gone and Vernon was rounding up the drivers so he could hand out their assignments.

As she worked, she noticed Julie Buckner Simpson flitting around taking pictures as she talked to people, no doubt trying to get enough quotes for a front page article. It was the same every year. The young woman came, got her information, then left without lifting a finger to help.

Moments later, Adelaide saw three of Crescent Falls’ finest walk in the door—Ron Elam, Larry Schwartz and Ken Lafferty, all from the night shift. Ron Elam came over to her right away.

“I’m really glad Reverend Preston is staying until the district can find a permanent replacement,” he commented. “I hear Carl is going to be released from the hospital today.”

Adelaide was pleasantly surprised about Carl. “I didn’t know Carl was going home. Of course I haven’t talked to Ethel today. Yes, it is good news about James staying on for a while.”

Ron’s thatch of brown hair looked windblown as always. His blue-green eyes studied her with curiosity. “Something wrong, Adelaide? You seem…distracted.”

Like Jerry was…distracted. I’ve heard that word a lot lately.

“Just a little tired. Tell me, Ron, who will be replacing Jerry Hatfield on the church finance committee, Carl?”

“That’s right. I got a call from Harold Purcell also, saying he was taking Carl’s place so he could step up as chairman.”

Adelaide was glad to hear Harold would be joining that committee. “I think he’ll make a perfect addition.”

“Well, I don’t!” The harsh voice was immediately recognizable.

Zelda Jackson approached them. Obviously she’d been eavesdropping again. Adelaide felt a rush of irritation. Ron quickly excused himself, heading toward the other drivers who were gathered in a cluster by the office doorway.

Adelaide faced Zelda who stood there with a scowl on her ruddy face, her eyes gleaming with malice. She was wearing a pair of maroon slacks with a navy blue sweater. “You don’t what, Zelda?” Adelaide said mildly.

“Think Harold Purcell should be on the finance committee at our church. Carl made a poor choice. Just one of many.”

“I don’t agree. I think Harold is the perfect choice. He’s honest and smart. He’s been on the committee before, also.”

Zelda scoffed. “He’s got everyone fooled, including you. I called Carl to say I’d step up but he put me off, saying he wasn’t officially in charge so he couldn’t make that decision.”

Adelaide was dumbfounded. “You volunteered to be on the finance committee? When?”

“On Sunday, the day after Jerry…passed on. I knew they needed to fill the spot quickly so I wanted to make sure it went to someone who could be trusted.”

Adelaide bit back her initial response. Carl hadn’t said a thing about Zelda’s call. “It’s probably just as well Carl didn’t accept your offer. You have so many irons in the fire already. We wouldn’t want you to spread yourself too thin.” Her boxes packed, she signaled for one of the drivers, Ron Elam, to come gather them up. Then she brushed past Zelda and headed for the office to collect three more cards.

Behind her she could hear Zelda muttering to herself as she walked in the opposite direction.

Daniel sat in his office watching as Luke escorted Douglas Underwood through the squad room. Close behind the pair was Mark Cardosa.

Luke opened Daniel’s office door. “The Reverend and his lawyer are here, Chief.” A sardonic smile lifted the corners of his mouth. He moved aside so the other two could enter.

Daniel didn’t get up. Instead he signaled for Luke to come in also and shut the door. The preacher looked apprehensive. He also looked like he’d dressed hastily in a pair of gray slacks with a wrinkled blue shirt. His hair was in disarray, his eyes somewhat bloodshot.

Lack of sleep, or is the guy hitting the bottle? Either could be the result of a guilty conscience.

As always, Mark Cardosa looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of
GQ,
in a navy blue pin-striped suit and starched white shirt. The expensive looking dark gray silk tie was held in place by a gold tie clip. The diamond encrusted Rolex watch on his left wrist caught the light, throwing off dazzling shards of color across the ceiling.

“Have a seat, Reverend, Counselor,” Daniel invited with much more cordiality than he felt.

They sat down in the two chairs facing Daniel’s desk. Luke took up a position in front of the door, effectively blocking any exit or entrance.

“Why are we here on a Saturday afternoon?” Mark asked. He positioned the leather attaché case on his lap but didn’t open it.

“I have some more questions for your client,” Daniel replied. “I also have some information.”

Mark smiled his shark-like smile. “Well, by all means let’s hear it.”

Daniel opened his right hand desk drawer, taking out the evidence bag with the bloody letter opener inside. He flung the bag across the desk where it skidded to a stop at the edge, just inches from where the pair sat. Douglas reared back in his seat, a look of revulsion on his face. Mark seemed unaffected.

“We got the DNA results back,” Daniel began. He focused his attention on the minister. “Besides Jerry Hatfield’s, the only other DNA is yours, Reverend.”

Mark said, “Don’t say a word, Doug.” He looked at Daniel. “Of course my client’s DNA is on the letter opener. He admits he used it often to open mail.”

Daniel ignored the lawyer, addressing his next comment directly to Douglas. “On Monday the DA is taking the case to the Grand Jury. I expect they’ll hand down an indictment.”

Mark Cardosa smirked. “So Rutledge is taking it before a Grand Jury instead of making an arrest right now. He must not be as confident as he lets on.”

Daniel’s phone conference with District Attorney Delano Rutledge had taken place earlier that morning as soon as the DNA results were back. “I should have moved on this sooner, but having that DNA is the clincher. Juries love scientific evidence, especially DNA,” Rutledge had said with enthusiasm.

Daniel had dealt with the tall, muscular district attorney many times so he knew Rutledge never prosecuted a case he wasn’t sure of winning. Having a grand jury indictment gave his case added validity. That was why his conviction record was amazing. He idly wondered how Mark Cardosa would fare against the tough DA who was known for his ruthlessness in the courtroom.

It should be worth the price of admission, to say the least.

Bringing himself back to the task at hand, Daniel continued. “Let’s talk about missing church money.” He was clearly on a fishing expedition, but needed to see the preacher’s reaction.

Douglas’s eyes widened.

Mark snapped open his attaché case, taking out a pad and pen. “What are you talking about?”

“In the weeks before his death, Jerry Hatfield hinted to certain people that something was wrong at the church. Comments he made seem to indicate it had to do with finances. He also said it was up to him to set things right—without involving the police.”

“I don’t see how that can be. We don’t have a church treasurer, as you may know. The accounting firm of Legget and Ambrose located right next door to this building takes care of writing all checks. At year’s end, a CPA firm in Rosewood does a thorough audit. If there was anything amiss, they’d have caught it.”

Mark was making notes. He side-glanced at his client twice as he did so. “Surely you’re not accusing two of the most prestigious accounting firms in the state of conspiring to pilfer church funds.” He made a disdainful chuckling noise.

Daniel gave Cardosa what he hoped was his best deadpan stare. “We know who does the books, Mark. We’ve spoken with representatives from both firms. We’ve also had forensic accountants go over the church finance records we copied from the office computer. There are no irregularities. That’s why we’re talking about theft on a different level. We think Jerry Hatfield discovered that someone was taking money from the offering between the time it was put in the safe on Sunday and Monday morning when he and Carl Henshaw came in to count it. Only three people had the combination to the church safe—Jerry, Carl, and
you
, Reverend Underwood.” Daniel stared at the minister, who refused to meet his gaze.

Mark emitted a harsh laugh. “You’re really reaching now, McBride. Are you seriously suggesting that my client was pilfering from the church offering for what…ten or twenty dollars a week? Preposterous!”

Douglas stirred in his seat then cleared his throat.

“Don’t say one word, Doug. Not a word.” Mark said sharply.

Daniel went on as though the attorney hadn’t spoken. “We did find something curious on Jerry Hatfield’s personal computer. A spreadsheet.” He picked up a printout encased in an evidence bag, sliding it across the desk.