detective gaze settled
heavily on me. “You know something. What is it, Cleo? Do I have to arrest you
too?”
The things I knew were only
exceeded by the things I didn’t know. I needed to toss Britt a bone, or he’d
figure out I was investigating Erica’s death. “This isn’t public knowledge yet,
but Jonette has decided to run for mayor.”
Britt cracked a smile. “That’s something to look forward to.”
“She’ll give Darnell a run for
his money, that’s for sure.”
Britt steeled his face. “Be
careful, Cleo. Something ugly is afoot in this town. I don’t want you mixed up
in it.”
I raised my hands in mock
surrender. “Hey, me neither.”
“Seriously, go home. Stay away from Trinity Episcopal until I get this mess straightened out.”
“You think someone on staff here killed Erica?”
He scowled at me. “You’re not going to trick me into revealing how Erica Hodges was killed.”
Of all the nerve. “I’m not trying
to trick you into anything. I don’t understand what’s going on. What happened
to our sleepy little town?”
Britt ignored my question. “I
thought your recent stint in handcuffs would have kept you from snooping
around, and yet here you are back at the church.”
His accusation heated my blood. “If
you notice, I’m not outside poking around the church parking lot. I’m
volunteering in the church office. Big difference.”
“Not in my book. I know you,
Cleopatra Jones. You won’t let good enough alone. I’ve got enough to do without
worrying about your safety.”
I resented his implication. “I
don’t need a bodyguard. If you recall, I got myself out of trouble last time.”
“Exactly my point. You put
yourself in a very dangerous situation. Let me handle this hunt for Erica’s
murderer.”
“Murder?” That two-syllable word
clanked in my empty stomach. I searched his face for something more to go on.
His rugged features were as inscrutable as ever. “I thought Erica’s death was
an accident.”
“I shouldn’t tell you this, but
I’m going to. Maybe it’ll shock some sense into you. Preliminary autopsy
reports indicate that Erica Hodges was struck by a vehicle, run over
repeatedly, and left for dead.”
I grimaced. Erica hadn’t been a
nice person, but no one deserved to die slowly, painfully, and alone. “She
didn’t die right away?”
“Not at the slow speed of impact
a vehicle could muster in the church parking lot.”
I grabbed my middle to corral my
jittery stomach. Thank God I hadn’t actually seen Erica’s body the other day
when I’d trespassed in the parking lot. My active imagination brought up a
visual of Erica, cartoon-character thin with limbs bent at impossible angles.
As flat as if she’d been passed through the bulletin-folding machine. I
shuddered. “That’s terrible. I had no idea.”
Britt handed me my purse and clamped a beefy hand on my shoulder. He ushered me out the nearest door. “Get
out of here and don’t come back.”
I didn’t like being manhandled or
shoved around, but Britt meant well. Trouble was, I needed to be in that
church. I needed to know the dark secrets surrounding the life of Erica Hodges.
Otherwise, how would I have a chance at saving Mama from herself?
Since the fall weather was so
mild, I’d walked the eight blocks down to the church this morning. While I’d
been inside working on the bulletins, a stiff breeze had sprung up and it went
straight through my thin, summer-weight clothing. I shivered and headed home.
“Need a ride, Cleo?”
My head whipped around. A dark
Beemer pulled out of the traffic lane on Main Street and idled next to me. Through the open window a slug of familiar cologne wafted out to me, confirming what I
already knew. Charlie Jones had stopped to give me a lift. Ordinarily, I
wouldn’t consider getting in the car with my ex-husband, but this wasn’t
ordinary times.
I was filled with an urgency to
get home and talk to Mama. “Thanks.” I stepped toward his
heavily on me. “You know something. What is it, Cleo? Do I have to arrest you
too?”
The things I knew were only
exceeded by the things I didn’t know. I needed to toss Britt a bone, or he’d
figure out I was investigating Erica’s death. “This isn’t public knowledge yet,
but Jonette has decided to run for mayor.”
Britt cracked a smile. “That’s something to look forward to.”
“She’ll give Darnell a run for
his money, that’s for sure.”
Britt steeled his face. “Be
careful, Cleo. Something ugly is afoot in this town. I don’t want you mixed up
in it.”
I raised my hands in mock
surrender. “Hey, me neither.”
“Seriously, go home. Stay away from Trinity Episcopal until I get this mess straightened out.”
“You think someone on staff here killed Erica?”
He scowled at me. “You’re not going to trick me into revealing how Erica Hodges was killed.”
Of all the nerve. “I’m not trying
to trick you into anything. I don’t understand what’s going on. What happened
to our sleepy little town?”
Britt ignored my question. “I
thought your recent stint in handcuffs would have kept you from snooping
around, and yet here you are back at the church.”
His accusation heated my blood. “If
you notice, I’m not outside poking around the church parking lot. I’m
volunteering in the church office. Big difference.”
“Not in my book. I know you,
Cleopatra Jones. You won’t let good enough alone. I’ve got enough to do without
worrying about your safety.”
I resented his implication. “I
don’t need a bodyguard. If you recall, I got myself out of trouble last time.”
“Exactly my point. You put
yourself in a very dangerous situation. Let me handle this hunt for Erica’s
murderer.”
“Murder?” That two-syllable word
clanked in my empty stomach. I searched his face for something more to go on.
His rugged features were as inscrutable as ever. “I thought Erica’s death was
an accident.”
“I shouldn’t tell you this, but
I’m going to. Maybe it’ll shock some sense into you. Preliminary autopsy
reports indicate that Erica Hodges was struck by a vehicle, run over
repeatedly, and left for dead.”
I grimaced. Erica hadn’t been a
nice person, but no one deserved to die slowly, painfully, and alone. “She
didn’t die right away?”
“Not at the slow speed of impact
a vehicle could muster in the church parking lot.”
I grabbed my middle to corral my
jittery stomach. Thank God I hadn’t actually seen Erica’s body the other day
when I’d trespassed in the parking lot. My active imagination brought up a
visual of Erica, cartoon-character thin with limbs bent at impossible angles.
As flat as if she’d been passed through the bulletin-folding machine. I
shuddered. “That’s terrible. I had no idea.”
Britt handed me my purse and clamped a beefy hand on my shoulder. He ushered me out the nearest door. “Get
out of here and don’t come back.”
I didn’t like being manhandled or
shoved around, but Britt meant well. Trouble was, I needed to be in that
church. I needed to know the dark secrets surrounding the life of Erica Hodges.
Otherwise, how would I have a chance at saving Mama from herself?
Since the fall weather was so
mild, I’d walked the eight blocks down to the church this morning. While I’d
been inside working on the bulletins, a stiff breeze had sprung up and it went
straight through my thin, summer-weight clothing. I shivered and headed home.
“Need a ride, Cleo?”
My head whipped around. A dark
Beemer pulled out of the traffic lane on Main Street and idled next to me. Through the open window a slug of familiar cologne wafted out to me, confirming what I
already knew. Charlie Jones had stopped to give me a lift. Ordinarily, I
wouldn’t consider getting in the car with my ex-husband, but this wasn’t
ordinary times.
I was filled with an urgency to
get home and talk to Mama. “Thanks.” I stepped toward his
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