"I don't know. Honestly, since everyone knows you're looking into it, it could have been kids pranking you.”

  "Do you really think that?"

  "I don't know. But that's what Ross might think. I'll talk to him about it."

  "Thanks again." I paused before adding, "So, we're okay?"

  "Sure." She reached over and gave me a hug.

  "Do you want to have lunch sometime soon?" I asked once we'd released one another. “Or you could come over for supper one night."

  She turned to look over her shoulder, eyebrows raised. "Uh, I think I'd rather go out, if it's all the same to you." Then she laughed, tossing back her head.

  "All right, suit yourself. Less work for me anyway. Maybe we could meet and talk more about the case. I haven't had anyone to bounce ideas off with us not talking. Gabby's too focused on writing her book, and Phyllis with making wedding plans."

  "Yeah, I'd like that."

  As I walked her down the stairs and out to her cruiser, I asked, "Hey, would you be interested in a bird? Everyone should have a pet."

  With squinted eyes, she opened the cruiser door and got inside. Before she slammed it, she said, "I'll think about it."

  The only thing that could be better than someone taking Ezra off my hands was knowing I still had a friend in Crystal.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tuesday morning, I was up with the birds, though I wasn't working. I'd grabbed a cup of coffee and headed straight up to the office after supplying my hubby with a kiss goodbye. Ellie grumbled through breakfast, looking like she hadn't gotten much sleep. I couldn't wait until her adulting crisis, whatever it was, was resolved.

  Bernie's journal was laid out in front of me, along with my notebook and a favorite fountain pen. It was slow-going because of her horrific penmanship, but then, she hadn't written it to be clear to anyone but herself.

  I'd found her original notes on the improprieties she had on Evan, Ned, Phyllis, Reverend Holt, and who I now knew to be Kaye. Sheryl's information so far had been spot-on. Beside the reference to writing smut, I saw the initials K.K.

  The little black book also held notes on Ross and how Bernie planned to add him into her novel. I'd known Ross all my life. There was no way that he was bent, which proved she’d ad-libbed some of the facts. Luckily, her book would never see the light of day now.

  I hit pay dirt when I got to the details she had on Reverend Holt. She'd made my job easy in the end by supplying the details of the accounts she believed dodgy. The jump drive still in my computer, I pulled up the church account spreadsheet and matched what she had written to the dates, figures, and line items for each. But rather than elation over my discovery, I felt wistful. I hated to be the one to bring down the local spiritual leader.

  Just to make sure I wasn't overlooking a suspect, I continued to read while keeping an eye on the time. I'd called Margery last night after reconciling with Crystal, asking if we could meet to discuss what I'd discovered since we last spoke. I needed to be at her place by eleven a.m. so that she could take care of other business.

  Before putting a stop to my research, I came across two sets of initials, both the same, that had me puzzled. M.B. number one had "theft" written next to it with a short description, some of which I couldn't make out. The second M.B. was a head-scratcher. Beside it were the words "sexual immorality" underlined three times.

  The only other people with M.B. for initials were Miriam Buckingham and Milton Beatty. Miriam was the aged parishioner Reverent Holt said he'd been with when Bernie had been killed. Milton was a widower of many years who lived in the village and owned a pet store on High Street in Laramie.

  Seeing the clock, I frowned. The rest of my research into Bernie's little black book would have to wait. I shut down my laptop and got ready to visit Margery.

  ✽✽✽

  On the drive into town, I let my mind muse over Bernie's definition of "sexual immorality." The words covered a fair amount of ground. Had Miriam or Milton had affairs when their spouses had been alive? That was so long ago, it didn't seem relevant. Maybe one of them had been forced to do the right thing and marry when they got pregnant.

  Or perhaps, like in Ned's case, she'd formed an opinion of one of the two and decided it would work for her book. It made me weary just to think about all the energy Bernie had put into gathering, storing, and utilizing other people's secrets.

  Margery met me at the door with a sad smile. Opening the screen door, she said, "Come in, you poor thing."

  "Thanks.”

  Margery ushered me into the kitchen where she had a coffee carafe and matching cream and sugar set on the small wooden table.

  Once we were both seated, she said, "I heard about what happened to your family yesterday afternoon." She picked up the carafe and poured the steaming-hot brown liquid into the matching mugs. "It must have been terrifying. Did you sleep at all last night? I was surprised to no end by your call, wanting to meet. But then I told myself..." She pushed the cream and sugar closer to me. "…that you'd want to come over in person to explain why you're calling off your investigation."

  "Oh, you mean the threat."

  "Why yes, honey. I prayed for you as soon as I heard. What is the world coming to?"

  "I'm not stopping. It just shows that I'm right. The killer made their first big mistake when they entered my house to leave the message. I must be getting close, otherwise, they wouldn't have done it."

  The look on her face registered something similar to the one that I'd gotten from Christian and Crystal.

  "But it could be dangerous. I think you should reconsider. And what about your family? You don't want to put them in harm's way."

  "They'll be fine. We all will. I'm this close…" I held up my thumb and forefinger, indicating an inch. "…to turning the culprit over to Ross. He must know that I've been right all along. Now he'll have to take me seriously."

  "Oh, my." Margery took a sip of her coffee.

  Reminded of the beverage, I took a drink and immediately regretted it. Brown water was all it was. Why did so many people bother making coffee when you couldn't taste the coffee? Why not drink water?

  Margery interrupted my mental tirade on weak coffee. "Are you sure I can't persuade you to stop? I can't help but feel I had some part in getting you involved in the first place."

  I waved the concern away and reached inside my purse sitting on the floor. "Wait until you hear what all I've learned." I placed my notebook on the table and turned to the relevant pages. I rattled on with a dazed Margery listening and sipping substandard coffee. Mine sat untouched, growing cold.

  "I had planned on asking you to take a look at the files on the jump drive, but Bernie laid out her conjecture in her journal."

  "My, you have been busy," Margery said, sounding unimpressed.

  I couldn't blame her. Although I'd not come right out and said I believed the killer to be her pastor, she could see for herself where I was headed. In my exuberance over what I'd found, I hadn't thought about how she might react to the news.

  "Thanks for the coffee, but I must be off. I don't want to hold you up, and I need to visit Bernie's neighbors and old Mrs. Buckingham." After stuffing my notebook into my bag, I stood.

  "Why do you need to talk to those people?"

  Margery was a nice woman, but she was no detective. "I need to find out who Bernie's neighbors saw at her house the morning she died. I'm hoping someone saw the murderer, but I know it’s a long shot."

  "And Mrs. Buckingham? How in the world could she assist you?"

  Unwilling to tell her I was double-checking the Reverend's alibi, I said, "Oh, just something I need to follow up. Oh, that reminds me. There’s an entry in Bernie’s journal about an M.B. who apparently committed the sin of sexual immorality. Would you give me a call if you can think of who that might be?”

  We arrived at her front door.

  "I do wish you'd let go of all this,” she said. “I won't sleep a wink until I know you're not putting yourself at risk. Bernie wouldn't want that."

  I doubted very much if Bernie would have ever given any thought to my well-being. "It's only fair she receives justice, and I intend to help her get it." I patted Margery's shoulder, thanked her, and headed for my trusty green Subaru.

  ✽✽✽

  Miriam Buckingham lived in the assisted living section of Tumbleweed Pass Retirement Village. I pulled into the entranceway and wound around the tree-lined streets at 10 mph looking for her bungalow. There were seniors with and without walkers and canes enjoying their daily constitutionals on this sunny day. Others sat on the occasional bench reading or visiting with one another.

  I was impressed by the job the senior care company had done at making the Village into a neighborhood. Each bungalow had a small front and backyard where the occupants could plant flowers or vegetables, place lawn chairs and grill out if they wished. It felt more like a community than a retirement center.

  Slowing even further to avoid hitting some ducks waddling across the lane, I watched the water in the lake glistening in the sun. Several residents fed ducks and geese stale bread and chattering with one another, laughing.

  Miriam's front door was open. I knocked on the aluminum frame of the screen door.

  "Come in, it's open," a fragile voice called out.

  Not sure what I was going to find, I stuck my head inside the door. The air smelled of cooked cabbage and liniment rub.

  "Hi, Miriam. It's Jade Blackwell. Can I come in?"

  "Yes, come in. Who did you say?"

  I raised my voice. "Jade Blackwell. You remember?"

  I was unsure of her exact age—she looked to be nearing a hundred years on this earth. She’d seemed old when I was a child. Her thin gray hair stood up in wisps while other patches of her scalp shown through, hairless. She sat in an upholstered rocking chair with the TV was blaring.

  Miriam clicked the mute button on the remote in her hand. "Say again? Come closer so as I can see ya."

  I moved closer to her chair and repeated my name.

  "Oh, you’re that college teacher, right?"

  "Used to be, yes. I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of questions."

  "I don't know what I can tell ya, but you can ask." Her voice was so low and trembling, I had to strain to hear her.

  I sat on the edge of an outdated love seat that was showing wear but was more comfortable than I expected. "You remember Bernie, uh, Bernadette Comer?"

  "Oh, yes. The church lady. Read in the paper she died." She pointed to the end table near her chair where an oversized magnifying glass and this week's Aspen Falls Gazette sat, neatly folded.

  "Yes, she did. I'm looking into her death and wondered if you could help me with something."

  She made a strained noise I took for a chuckle. "Yes, I read in the paper you were investigating. The things you young women get up to these days. I would’ve loved to be a detective, but ladies didn't do that sort of thing back in my day."

  "You've already got the magnifying glass, I see."

  She made the strangled noise again.

  "Two Wednesdays ago,” I said, “the day Bernie died. Reverend Holt said he came to visit you."

  "Oh, yes. Yes. The Reverend is so kind to me."

  Hoping her short-term memory was still active, I asked, "Do you remember?" I gave her the date. "Did Reverend Holt visit you that day?"

  "Two Wednesdays ago, ya say?" Her face held a look of concentration as she mumbled to herself.

  "Yes. I remember now." Her eyes were now more focused and clearer. "Iris came over to take me into town to trade. I like to get my necessities in the middle of the week. Always done it that way." Miriam moved her mouth around as though she were chewing on something.

  My back had started to stiffen, sitting at attention on the edge of the love seat. Since it looked as though I'd be here a while waiting for Miriam to recall answers, I scooted back and leaned against the cushions. Aching back. A sure sign of old age. One day I'd look like good ole Miriam.

  "Two weeks Wednesday, ya said?"

  "That's right." Thinking it might be better to change the question, so I wasn't feeding her the answer, I asked, "Did anyone visit you that morning? Around eight a.m.?"

  "Oh, yes. That young minister came callin'. He's so sweet." She leaned up in her chair to whisper, "And handsome too." She leaned slowly back against her chair, cackling like a Halloween witch.

  At least she still has some fun in life.

  "Though it weren't eight when he called. After nine, I'd say."

  Not seeing a clock in the room, I questioned her memory. "How do you know it was then?"

  "My morning program was on, ya see." She squeezed her eyes shut and sat quietly for a moment. "Yep, the first set of commercials had just finished when he knocked." She leaned toward me again, conspiratorially. "I was bummed because they'd just started the interview section of the program, and that good-looking acting fella was on there. Oh, you know, the one who does all them action, shoot 'em up movies. The fetching one."

  I nodded my head. It could have been Rock Hudson she was talking about for all I knew.

  She leaned back with a small sigh. "It'll be on reruns, I know, but I was surely lookin' forward to that one."

  "So, Reverend Holt came two Wednesdays ago at around nine fifteen a.m., is that right?"

  "That's what I said, ain't it?"

  Guessing I'd pushed a little too far, I asked another question, hoping to further test her memory. I needed her to be accurate. It wouldn't do to take my evidence to Ross and name a murderer if Miriam was confusing her days. "What did you talk about, you and the Reverend?"

  "He prayed over my knee. It had been acting up again, ya see. All bruised and swollen. Sore too, it was. And he caught me up on the church gossip." Another round of strangled laughter ensued. "He ain't suppose ta gossip, being a man of God. But he knows I don't get out like I used to, so he does it anyway. Then he read me some of the Good Book, prayed again, and went on his way. He's really a lovely man. And easy on the eyes." She raised her sparse gray eyebrows up and down at me.

  Satisfied she had the right day in mind, I thanked her for her help. She never did ask me why I needed to know the answers to those questions. Just as well.

  ✽✽✽

  On the drive to Bernie's neighborhood, I mused over what Miriam had told me. Had Reverend Holt deliberately lied to me or just been mistaken about the time? Or, was Miriam confused about when he'd arrived? She could have been thinking about another day he'd visited her. She seemed clear enough though, for the most part.

  Most of us in Aspen Falls don't have neighbors as such. My closest neighbors live more than a mile away. But in town, the houses were closer together. If I got lucky, one of the old dears would remember seeing someone coming from Bernie's house that fateful day. There was one window-peeker on every block, and I hoped they'd answer their door. Although, Bernie could have been the neighborhood spy. It would certainly fit her M.O.

  I parked on the street in front of the closest house to Bernie's. Whoever lived there had a clear view of her front door. If the killer had gone around the back, I was wasting my time. Bernie's property was lined with straight, tall shrubs along the back to afford privacy. I went to the first house, practicing my spiel along the way, and knocked on the front door.

  Not getting an answer, I walked along the side of the house until I got near a chain-link fence. A massive dog of indeterminable breed came running at the fence for all he was worth. I doubted the folks were home if they hadn't reacted to all the growling and barking. I slowly backed away and went on to the next house.

  Three houses later, sweat ran down the small of my back as I knocked on the last door. No other homes would have a decent line of sight to Bernie’s front door. I wasn't expecting much at this point. Besides, I was hot and hungry, ready to go home.

  A young woman with a baby on her hip answered my knock. "Yes?"

  "Oh, hi," I said, caught off guard someone had actually answered. "I'm Jade Blackwell. If you have a minute, I'd like to ask you a question. It's about one of your neighbors."

  "I suppose," she said with a frown.

  Probably thinks I’m going to try and sell her something.

  The young mother bounced her fussing baby on her hip, signaling she didn't have long before it would require her attention.

  "Two Wednesdays ago, in the early morning, say between eight and nine-thirty a.m., did you see anyone go in or leave that lady's house?" I pointed to Bernie's.

  "Oh, the one who died. No, I don't think so." Bounce, bounce. "No, wait, I lie. That's the morning I took the baby out for a walk, and she fell asleep in her stroller. I was afraid to stop. Afraid she'd wake up. She's teething, and it's only peaceful around here when she's asleep."

  I chuckled, "Yeah, I remember those days well."

  She smiled, "I must have walked ten miles that day."

  "So, you saw..." I prompted.

  "Oh, sorry. Yeah, I saw a couple of people coming and going. The first one was a guy, uh, maybe in his forties. Clean cut. He went in and came back out soon after. The other time I saw a lady go in. She was older. Probably around the homeowner's age. She didn't stay long either."

  "Do you remember the times, by any chance?"

  "The guy came around right after I left the house, so let's say eight-ish. The lady was here later. I'd walked around the whole neighborhood twice by then, so probably around nine-thirty a.m. or maybe a little after. By then I'd worn myself out and was hoping to get Emma inside still sleeping, so she and I could take naps. But that didn't last long."

  I made commiserating noises.

  "Anyway, when I went inside with Emma, the lady was knocking on her door. I put the baby down, unloaded the diaper bag, and went back outside to fold up and store the stroller. That's when I saw her leaving."

  "Did the man look upset or in a hurry when he left?"

  She shook her head as the baby pulled on her large hoop earring. She unwrapped the baby's fist. "Not that I noticed. But, you know, I wasn't really paying attention. I've been pretty spacey from sleep deprivation lately. We just got her sleeping through the night, and now she's awake all hours because her gums hurt. I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever get a full night's sleep again."

 

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