“You told Kirby his father got you fired. Kirby was furious. He called his father, threatened him, said he would pay for what he’d done.”
She didn’t say a word, stared at me with dread.
“He threatened his father, went to his office.“ Lily jumped up. “Kirby didn’t talk to him. He was too late. His father had left.”
“Kirby’s car was seen turning after his father’s.”
“Kirby didn’t follow him. I called Kirby, got him on his cell, told him to come here. He did. We were here. I promise.” Were they together at her apartment before—or after—Daryl Murdoch was shot?
Chief Cobb’s information indicated Kirby’s gun hadn’t been found. “Where did Kirby keep his gun?” She hesitated, reluctantly said, “In the trunk of his car.”
“Did you know it’s missing?” I watched her closely.
She lifted a hand to her throat. “It can’t be. Kirby went out for target practice Thursday afternoon.”
“Kirby claims someone stole it.”
Lily jumped to her feet. “If Kirby said it’s gone, it’s gone.” The gun was gone, but did it disappear before or after Daryl Murdoch died?
I smelled cake when I entered the rectory kitchen. I smiled. It was the first time I’d smiled in hours. Tramping around in the cold, finagling information, was draining. I lifted the plastic cover from the stand.
If Bayroo’s cake was as delicious as it looked and smelled, Travis Calhoun was going to be very happy. I wondered if I would be here to 186
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attend the Spook Bash tomorrow and see this famous young man.
Very likely yes. I didn’t seem to be making any headway in my task. Or tasks. I’d uncovered multiple motives for murder, but I was unwilling to implicate Cynthia Brown or Walter Carey or Lily Mendoza.
Maybe I wasn’t cut out for detecting. Was I naive? I bristled at the thought. I may have been a small-town girl, but I knew a Galahad from a Cardinal Richelieu. However, and I felt perplexed, perhaps I was too empathetic.
. . . impulsive . . .
I looked toward the ceiling. If Wiggins wanted my attention, he would have to be more direct. I didn’t dwell on the fact that I’d certainly been visible this evening, but now that I was at the rectory, I was properly invisible. Perhaps that would soothe Wiggins. In fact, he should be pleased at my progress.
Had I been hoodwinked by Cynthia or Walter or Lily? Possibly.
In the end, I might feel compelled to reveal to Chief Cobb what I’d learned about one or all of them.
I replaced the cake cover without filching even a tiny swipe of the rich chocolate icing. Perhaps I’d find a snack in the refrigerator.
The rectory was silent. Where was everyone? Especially Kathleen? It was a quarter to nine. The Abbotts were certainly a busy family. I supposed Father Bill was out on parish duty. I remembered that Bayroo was going to a skating party tonight. As for Kathleen, I felt uneasy. Obviously, she’d tried to stir things up with Walter Carey.
What else had she done?
The porch door slammed.
I was ready with a cheery greeting when the kitchen door opened and a black-robed witch stepped inside, carrying a scruffy broomstick. Her conical hat tilted forward. Sticky-looking strands of green hair protruded sideways. A squashy red boil disfigured the wrinkled, putty-colored face. A hand swept up, lifting the hat with at-187
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tached hair and mask. Kathleen dropped her purse onto the table and slipped out of the robe.
“What a stunning outfit.” Almost horrid enough to destroy my appetite. Almost.
Kathleen drew in a sharp breath. “Hello, Bailey Ruth. I didn’t know you were here. How could anyone know?” The last was a mutter. “Isn’t the mask neat?” She sounded more cheerful. “It’s fun to wear a mask.
No one can see you frown. Did you know it’s against the rules for a rector’s wife to frown?” She smoothed her ruffled hair. “I was at the Friends of the Library dinner. If I didn’t show up in costume, I’d be fined. That’s twenty-five bucks I can use to buy groceries. But”—her face lightened—“I got in some good work. Bud Schilling’s the junior warden. He’s got a houseful of kids and he’s always wanted the church to build a family center. I told him I knew there’d been some concern on the vestry about Daryl’s saying he was going to talk to Bill about a financial matter. I told Bud Judith Murdoch called me and she said she was sorry Daryl got mad at Bill because of the new plans Bill had for the family center.” Kathleen beamed.
“Clever.” I looked at Kathleen with new respect. The junior warden would tell the rest of the vestry. No one would ever bring up the matter with Judith Murdoch out of kindness. Kathleen had very likely rescued her husband’s career.
Kathleen’s smile faded. “How about you? Do you have anything important to give to the police?”
“Not yet.” I opened the refrigerator door, found some Cheddar cheese. “Walter Carey’s wife called him and told him you’d been to see her.”
Kathleen whirled toward the refrigerator. “How did you know?”
“I was there.” I was already at the cabinet. I opened it, lifted down a box of Ritz crackers.
“Do you eat all the time?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “I know you told me to sit tight. I can’t. I’m scared to death for Bill. I had to 188
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do something. Harriet’s scared. That seems suspicious to me. Did you find out anything?”
“Possibly. I don’t think Walter’s the murderer. Nonetheless, Kathleen, you should leave it to me to investigate the people who were on the outs with Daryl. I’m already dead.” She shook her head sharply. “Bill’s in trouble. I have to find out everything I can. I wish I hadn’t thrown that phone in the lake. But I’ll get that information to the police chief someway. I’ve figured out why Bill won’t tell the chief anything. He’s probably protecting Irene Chatham. She’s—”
I interrupted. “The light-fingered member of the Altar Guild.” I enjoyed Kathleen’s look of awe, but felt compelled to reveal my source. “I checked the church pictorial directory.” Kathleen paced. “In between working at the church, I’ve looked everywhere for Irene.”
“She’s on my list, Kathleen.” My tone was reproving. Had I learned it from Wiggins?
Kathleen ignored me. “Every time I tried to talk to Isaac, he was surrounded by people wanting him to carry something or move something.”
I topped the crackers with cheese slices and carried my plate to the table.
She watched disapprovingly. “One of these days somebody’s going to walk in and see dishes up in the air and the fat will be in the fire.”
I smiled and enjoyed my snack. “That may be.” Food soothes me and my tone was equable. “Kathleen, sit down and relax. We’ll find out more tomorrow.”
She continued to pace. “Tomorrow I have to help get everything ready for the Spook Bash. I won’t have a free minute.” I felt great relief. I didn’t want Kathleen to stir up the quiescent tiger. “I’ll see to everything.”
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She’d paused by the cake stand, lifted it to look in surprise at Bayroo’s cake.
I explained about the birthday gift and her face softened in a smile. Then once again she looked worried. “I’m going to try again to catch Irene.” She walked toward the phone, but stopped to stare at a slate on a stand next to the telephone. A message was written in red chalk:
7:45 P.M. Urgent. Dad, call Isaac. He’s upset. Something about a wheelbarrow and the police. Gone to skate with Lucinda. Home about nine-thirty.