Murder 101 by Maggie Barbieri Page B

coffee? I’m trying to limit the amount of walking I’m going to do today.” I showed him the mules, and he whistled.
    “Nice shoes. Not for this campus, though. Where are the clogs?” He sat in one of the chairs, panting from his exertion.
    “I’m giving the clogs a rest. They’ve served me well, but I was starting to feel dowdy. I needed an attitude adjustment.” I reached into my bag and got out my wallet, figuring he didn’t have money on him. “Coffee? Please?” I held my hands out pleadingly.
    “Sure,” he said, taking the money. “Muffin?”
    “If they look good. And get yourself a cup, too. Let’s chat for a minute, if you have time.”
    He was gone ten minutes and returned with two muffins, two large coffees, milk, and sugar packets. He sat down across from me and kicked the door closed with his left foot. “What’s going on?”
    “You did a nice job at the funeral.”
    He blushed slightly. “They’re always hard, but that was the hardest one yet.”
    “Who was the concelebrant?”
    “Father Minette. From Kathy’s parish. He knows the family well.”
    “How’s her family doing? Gianna?”
    He shrugged. “Not good. I saw them over the weekend, and they are having a very difficult time. Peter has holed up in the bedroom and is in deep mourning. Keep them in your prayers.”
    I wanted to tell Kevin that Peter wasn’t holed up in the bedroom for the whole weekend, but I didn’t. “I do, Kevin.” And I was telling the truth. “Did you know Kathy?”
    He pulled the paper off his muffin and took a bite. “Yes,” he said, and went silent. That, to me, meant that he had spent some time with her but was not at liberty to talk about it.
    “Do the police know that you knew her?”
    He nodded. “I’ve spent a few hours with Detective . . .” he paused, searching for the name.
    “Crawford?” I asked, and felt a blush come to my cheeks.
    “Yes, and the other, crabby one. Wyatt?” He continued eating his muffin. “Crawford gets why I can’t go into detail but Wyatt doesn’t. He keeps pressing me, but I can’t tell him anything. He even threatened to subpoena me,” he said, shaking his head. “Can you believe that?”
    “Crawford gets it because he’s Catholic.”
    “That’s what I figured, but I don’t know why I can’t get Wyatt to understand it. If he subpoenas me, I’m going to have to sic a church lawyer on him. My cousin is at Catholic University studying canon law. He’d love to get into it with the police.” He laughed, getting a mental image of what that would be like.
    “Have you ever met Vince?” I asked.
    “I never could figure out what she saw in him,” was all he said. He took the lid off his coffee and poured in cream from a little plastic container.
    “Me, neither. But who am I to judge?” I asked, and gave a little laugh.
    Kevin ran his hands through his shaggy blond hair and put them behind his head. “You doing all right with all of that?”
    I nodded. “I have to see Ray every other day for our course, so we have to be civil with each other. Things are as OK as they can be. I’m doing better with the whole divorce thing.” I looked out the window. “I don’t feel like Mary Magdalene anymore, which is good, right?”
    We sat and chatted and ate our muffins and drank the coffee. Kevin stood up a half hour later and stretched. “Well, glad I ran, because that muffin was probably two thousand calories.” He gathered up his garbage and threw it into my waste can. “Don’t get up,” he said, and leaned over to kiss me. “I have to go prepare a sermon for twelve o’clock Mass. Something on the ill effects of revenge or something like that. Any ideas?”
    “You’re asking me?” I asked, incredulously. “I’m still trying to figure out a way to key Ray’s new BMW without getting caught.”
    He laughed. “You’re no help.” He opened the door. “I’ll talk with you soon.” He turned and looked at me with that mixture of sadness and