“Perhaps, but there’s certainly a demon out there now.”
31
In the course of his practice, Bryson Deeds had treated people from all over the country. As they flew in to pay their respects, the house was never empty, which was a good thing, as it provided a distraction for Racquel. Miranda’s idea about the food turned out to be a good one. After St. Luke’s Sunday service, Harry and Fair swung by the Deedses’ house to deliver the food they’d kept overnight.
Racquel appeared more in control. The Haristeens stayed briefly, making sure that Miranda didn’t need anything.
Both breathed a sigh of relief when they walked through the door to their house.
“It’ll be worse after the funeral.” Fair untied his silk necktie. “People go home; your close friends call on you but, over time, they return to their normal routine. Then it really starts to sink in.”
“Does.” Harry pulled her slip over her head. “I’ll do the barn chores. I know you’ve got billings to send out.”
“It can wait.”
She pulled on her long, warm socks, followed by a quilted long-sleeve undershirt. “Racquel’s been unhappy for
months, maybe longer. I didn’t see it then. I see it now.”
“Socially she seemed fine.”
“Most of us can pull it together socially. Looking back, though, I can see that she’s been increasingly unhappy, reaching for the bottle too much, I guess. She complained about Bryson a lot. Now I expect she feels guilty about it and has no chance to make it up to him.” She shrugged. “After this last week, I sure count my blessings.”
“I do, too.” He leaned over and kissed her. “You know, it’s snowing again.”
She looked out the window. “I’ll be.”
“Hey, let’s do the chores, then I’ll make a steak on the grill.”
The grill was on the back lawn.
“Fair, it’s colder than a witch’s bosom.”
He laughed. “Yeah, but the grill will work no matter what. You make a salad and then we can watch the movie I rented.”
“You didn’t tell me you rented a movie.”
“Every now and then it’s good to surprise you.”
“What is it?”
“It’s about the partnership of Gilbert and Sullivan. Since you love their work so much, especially The Mikado, I figured it’d be worth a look. Alicia saw it and said it was one of the best films she’s ever seen about creativity.”
“Sounds intriguing. What’s the name?”
“Topsy-Turvy.”
That phrase would apply to the unfolding drama right here in Crozet.
32
On Monday, December 29, people kept talking about the weather and the murder of Dr. Bryson Deeds. The weather remained the main topic, particularly since large apple groves, hay fields, timber, corn, and soybeans added to people’s purses.
Rick and Cooper drove up the mountain, subpoena in hand. Thanks to Cooper’s urgings, Rick had sent a young officer to watch over Harry so Fair could get back to work.
“Coop, you have a way of pushing me in the right direction.”
“As long as I don’t push you in front of a car.” She smiled.
“When you called me after seeing Brother Morris, at first I didn’t think too much about it. Then I remembered that charity for dying children, remember?”
“Yeah, back in 1994. The lady from Connecticut who set up the riding program for dying kids. Slick, slick, slick.”
“She gets money for calm horses, a contractor builds a riding ring, another a barn, people see photos of these little kids hanging on to horses, and the money just pours in. All you have to do is show a picture of a child and people become instant suckers.” He sighed. “So I thought, what are the Brothers of Love doing? Sitting, praying, holding the dying. Granted, a dying adult lacks some of the heart- tugging appeal of a six-year- old hurtling toward the red exit light, but still, families grateful for their service might give large sums, and I’m willing to bet a tank of gas—”
She interrupted. “That much?”
He grimaced. “That much. One tank of gas that a lot have enriched the monastery’s coffers. Even the name ‘Brothers of Love’ could be a ploy.”
“Didn’t that woman, Kendra Something, walk off with close to three million smackers?” Cooper couldn’t imagine having such a sum all to one’s self.
“Damn straight she did. But she wasn’t as smart as she thought she was. They picked her up in ’97 in Belize. Sure lived the good life until then.”
“You know, if I were going to be a crook, I’d go the charity route, too. It’s the easiest way to steal. For one thing, accounting practices are different for 501(c) 3 nonprofit corporations.” She mentioned not-for- profit corporations that are charities. “For another thing, people want to help, so you appeal to their higher instincts and lighten their purses. Beats armed robbery.”
“Except for robbing a bank or a Brinks truck. Gotta admit, there’s glamour to that, as long as no one is killed. Takes brains, planning, guts, and cool, cool nerve. When I think of the thousands of perps I’ve talked to in my career, most of them evoke disgust or fury. But those guys, I grant them a backhanded admiration.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” She sat up straighter. “Well, we’re here. Want me to wear my coat, keep my sidearm concealed, or do you want me to go in exposed?” She grinned at that.
“If you went in truly exposed, I expect half of those guys would run screaming for their rooms. The other half would run for you.”
“What a pretty thing to say.” Cooper evoked the old phrase used to great effect by Southern women for generations. One’s tone indicated exactly how one felt about whatever had been said.
“Go in with sidearm showing. Just in case.” He cut the motor and they both sprang out.
Cops surf adrenaline surges. While the willingness to face violence and personal danger is part of their personalities, it’s also part of the high.
Rick knocked on the door. Knocked again.
At last the door opened and Brother Luther stood before them, dried blood on the side of his head, a shiner coming up, too.
“Brother Luther, what’s happened?” Rick quickly stepped inside, as did Cooper.
“Brother Morris and three of the brothers have disappeared. Brother Sheldon, Brother Howard, and Brother Ed rounded up whoever is left.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“Because I was knocked out, and the others had been locked in their rooms. I finally found the keys.”
“Where are the brothers?”
“In the kitchen.” Brother Luther led them there without being asked.
Shocked faces turned toward the sheriff and his deputy.
Brother Sheldon wailed, “We’re ruined!”
“Will you kindly shut up.” Brother Ed’s nerves were frayed enough; he couldn’t withstand increased histrionics.
“Let him be, Brother Ed,” Brother Howard, sagging in his bulk, said. “Sheriff, we were going to call you, but first we wanted to figure out what happened.”
The other brothers nodded in agreement.
Cooper flipped open her notebook.
Rick began. “When did you discover you were locked in?”
“This morning. Rose for matins and couldn’t open the door,” Brother Howard, in charge due to his strong personality, informed them.
“They did it in the middle of the night,” Brother Ed, furious, spat out.
“Brother Luther, how did you wind up with jewelry?” Rick asked.
“Beg pardon?” Brother Luther’s head hurt.
“Sorry: jewelry, wounds,” Rick replied.
“I couldn’t sleep. So I got up around midnight and went to my office. I double- checked the books. They balanced, but I wanted to be sure. I’ve had a funny feeling about money lately, and I’ve learned to trust my instincts. There was a knock on the door. I answered. Brother Morris stood before me and that’s all I remember.”