Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery) (23 page)

BOOK: Mixed Messages (A Malone Mystery)
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She stopped to
admire
the purple and yellow pansies in full bloom in another yard
.
Next year, she decided, I’m going to plant some pansies and maybe some mums
around the front of the house
.
I think Olivia would enjoy that.
It’s so nice to see flowers in bloom at this time of the year
.
What a beautiful day
to be alive
, she thought, and what a pretty, peaceful neighborhood
.

Suddenly it occurred to her that somewhere
nearby
, possibly in one of the houses she was
passing, a killer
was waiting
for his next victim.
She shrugged the thought away
and continued walking briskly. She
refus
ed
to let any negative thoughts ruin her day.

When
she
arrived at the church, she paused for a moment,
marveling, as she always did, at
the beautiful, old
stone building with statues of St. Peter and St. Paul flanking the main entrance and colorful stained glass windows
sparkling
in the sun
.
They don’t build them like this
anymore, she thought, as she rounded the corner and saw Father Andrew coming toward her, his
coat and scarf draped over his arm
.

“Good morning, Ann,” he said, smiling
.
“And how are you today?”

“I’m fine, Father
.
It’s such a pretty day, isn’t it?”

“Yes it is; it’s a glorious day
.
I decided to take the long way to work,” he said, grinning
.
“Usually, I go in the rear door, a few yards from the rectory
.
That’s the nice thing about living behind the church; on rainy or cold days, I can get here in a minute
.
However
, today, I wouldn’t have minded a longer walk
.
So, I thought I’d stand out here for a while and wait for you to get here
.
I wanted to take a little time to appreciate the day
.”

“I don’t blame you
.
It’s
hard to be inside on a day like this, especially at this time of year
.
I doubt if we’re
going to get many more of these.”

“Unfortunately, you’re right
.
Winter will be here before we know it
.
Well, much as I hate to say it, we’d better go inside and get you started
.
We both have work to do.”

He opened
one of
the massive oak
front
door
s
for Ann
and ushered her inside. They passed through the narthex, or foyer, into the nave where she and her children sat in the old oak pews every Sunday for mass. Father Andrew pointed to their right, indicating that she should go through one of the
two
doors.
When she reached the door,
she
tried the doorknob but the door wouldn’t open.

“Here, let me get that,”
he
said. He pulled out a set of keys from his pants pocket and unlocked and opened the door.
He held the door for
her
and
then led her
down a
long,
dark hallway
to the connecting
one-story
brick building
that
had been added on
to
the original structure
in order
to accommodate the church’s offices
.
He opened a
nother
door and flipped the light switch
.

She
looked around the room
.
It was a small,
rectangular
space
with dark paneled walls and hardwood floors
.
The only furniture was an old, mahogany desk, its surface marred with
scratches and chips, a padded swivel chair with numerous cracks in the leather and a few black filing cabinets
.
How dark and depressing, she thought
.
Thank God, it has a window
.
She
went
over and pushed the heavy
,
drab draperies aside,
just enough to
see
outside
.

“This will be your office,”
he
said, “such as it is
.
My office is
right
down the hall
.
It’s the second door on the right
.
Here, let me take your coat.”

He hung
her
coat on
the coat tree
next to the door and, for the next half hour, he showed her the filing system, taught her the proper way to answer the phone and answered her questions
.

“I apologize for the antiquated typewriter,” he said, taking the cover off
of
an old Smith Corona
.
“With any luck, in a few months, we’re going to join the rest of the world
in the twenty-first century
and get a computer
.
But, for now, this is it.”

“Honestly, Father, I’m no computer whiz anyway
.
The extent of my experience is taking the kids to the library and using the computer there
.
It’s been so many years since high school and my first job that I’m sure I’ve forgotten anything I learned
.”
She nodded toward the typewriter
.
“This is just fine with me.”

“Well, good then
.
I’ll leave you to get settled in
.
If you have any
more questions or need me for any reason, I’ll be in my office until noon.”

She
spent the rest of the morning answering phone calls and thinking about what she
could do to spruce up the bare office
.
When I get my first paycheck, she decided, I’ll buy a few inexpensive watercolor prints and a couple of plants
.
That’ll give some personality and warmth to this space
.

And, if the job works out and I stay here a long time, she thought, I’ll ask Father if I can paint the walls
, maybe a bright, sunny yellow like
the walls in
my kitchen
at home
,
and take down these awful
drapes and put up mini-blinds and a
colorful
valance
.
She laughed to herself
.
This is your first day
and already you’re mentally redecorating.

At noon, Father Andrew stopped by her office to let her know that he had some errands to run
.
“I’ll try to be back before you leave,” he said.

She
retrieved the sack lunch she had packed for herself and leisurely ate her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and apple
while she sipped a can of Diet Coke
.
It was so quiet, almost eerily quiet.
She
felt like she was the only person in the old church. It was kind of spooky. Surely, Louise is here, she reassured herself. She’s probably off cleaning in another part of the building.
             

As
she was wadding up her lunch bag, she heard a noise in the hall.
She
waited a few seconds, craning her neck to hear
.
“Who’s there?” she called.
“Louise, is that you?
Father?

There was no answer
.
She got up and
hurried
to the door
.
As she peeked around the
corner, she saw a tall figure in a long black trench coat and black hat
standing several feet from her door
.
His back was to her so she couldn’t see his face.

She took a step toward him.
“May I help you?” she asked.

The man didn’t answer.
He just stood there, not moving and not turning around.

Ann cleared her throat. “Excuse me
, sir
. Is there something I can do for you?”

He didn’t reply.
Instead, he
immediately
started running toward the fire exit door at the end of the hall
.
He
flung
the door open wide and ran out
.
The door slammed
shut
behind him
.

Her
heart was beating fast and, as she returned to her office, she realized that she was shaking
.
Who was that? she wondered
.
And why did he run away from me?
She sat down at her desk and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
The announcer’s words on the radio ran through her head, “Another woman was found strangled
… .
Police are urging all women to exercise extreme caution … .”
But those women were found in their homes, she reasoned. Not in a church. And, thank God, the man did run
away
from me.

By the time Father Andrew got back,
she
had calmed down considerably
and was feeling a little foolish for having reacted so strongly to what was
most likely
nothing at all. Still
,
she decided
,
she should
tell the priest what had happened.
He had a right to know. After all, it was
his
church.

“I’m so sorry you were frightened,” Father Andrew said
.
“I would imagine it was just some poor soul looking for the comfort of the church
.
It’s my fault
.
I’m sure I neglected to lock
one of
the door
s
from the
nave
.
Perhaps he was looking for me or
he
simply lost his way
.
You know, we always leave the
front
doors to the church unlocked
.
No one should ever be denied access to pray.”

She
breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m sure you’re right, Father,” she said. “
I guess I overreacted.
I feel so much
better now that you’re here.”

Chapter
2
3

 

IT WAS AFTER THREE O’CLOCK
when Ann left the church
.
As she
went
out the door, s
he took a deep breath
.
The apprehension and nervousness about starting her new job and the fear she’d felt when she confronted the stranger in the hallway, had all disappeared
.
Now, she felt relieved and even exhilarated.
She’d made it through her first day!

She decided to stop at the cemetery to visit the grave of her grandmother before she went home
.
She headed down the hill and made her way through the headstones, careful, as always, not to step on anyone’s plot
.
She stooped down and brushed a pile of dried leaves from around her mother
’s
and father’s headstones as she passed by
.
Then, she walked a little further, to the edge of the woods
,
which
bordered the cemetery, and sat down on the concrete bench
,
which
was only a couple of feet from where her grandmother was buried.

She leaned forward as she read the headstone
.
“Marn
ie
Ann Riley
,”
she whispered
.
“Nana.”

She
sat there, remembering the weekend visits she, her sister and her parents had made
to Dayton, Ohio
to visit Nana
when she was a little girl
.
I
guess I
drove my parents crazy, she thought, with my constant, “Are we there yet? Are we there yet?”
The drive was probably not much more than an hour,
she
realized, but back then it seemed like it took forever before they pulled into the alley behind her grandmother’s house and parked the car.

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