Peril & Prayer Read online

  Shari glanced impatiently between Sister Lou and January. “Who would want to kill your cousin? Give us a name.”

  “What do you care?” January scowled. “Are you some kind of private investigator or something?”

  “Something.” Shari liked that comparison. She pulled her notepad from her olive green purse. “I’m a newspaper reporter.”

  January gasped. Her eyes stretched wide, horror replacing anger. “I didn’t agree to an interview.”

  “Consider this background information. I’ll protect you as one of my sources.” Shari offered a negligent wave. “Who do you think wanted your cousin dead?”

  “She’s quite trustworthy.” Sister Lou encouraged January when the other woman hesitated. A flush of pride filled Shari’s cheeks at the sister’s praise.

  January shrugged, settling back onto her puffy pink chair. “Well, her ex for one. Roy.”

  Shari wrote down the victim’s ex-husband’s name. “Roy Tassler?”

  “No.” January shook her head again. “Roy Fortney. Tassler was Autumn’s maiden name. She went back to it after the divorce. Roy resented paying alimony.”

  “Excuse me if I don’t cry for him.” Shari took more notes. “But he did cheat on Autumn while she was paying all of his bills. Then he left her for the other woman. Can you think of anyone else who’d want to harm your cousin?”

  “Roy’s new wife, Isabella, of course.” January looked like the cat who’d eaten the canary. “Now that I consider it, if Roy didn’t like making the alimony payments, Isabella was ten times more resentful. She said Autumn was bleeding Roy dry. And I heard she had a screaming match with Autumn in her office at the resort.”

  Shari looked at Sister Lou. “There was a lot of that going on.”

  Sister Lou shared a surprised look with Shari before turning back to January. “Who told you this?”

  January shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a small town, Sister. How do you think we know the deputies suspect Sister Marianna Tuller of my cousin’s murder?”

  Chapter 19

  “Diego’s going to ruin your career.” The warning came from behind Shari in the Telegraph’s office first thing Tuesday morning. Such ugly words from such an attractive voice. Shari was torn between amusement and dismay.

  She turned to see Briar Coast’s glamorous mayor standing behind her. The tall, slender brunette’s scarlet winter coat screamed, Power! The black buttons were still fastened and the belt was cinched tightly at her narrow waist. Shari’s gaze dropped to the day’s copy of The Briar Coast Telegraph, which Heather Stanley gripped in the slim black gloves she hadn’t yet removed. It perhaps held the key to the mayor’s presence in Shari’s humble cubicle.

  Shari stood, raising her gaze to Heather’s violet eyes. It was unreal how attractive the woman was. “Mayor Stanley, how nice to start my day with you.”

  Was it the wry note in Shari’s voice that brought the glint of admiration to the mayor’s eyes or was Shari making too much of it?

  “I suppose all good crime reporters have an edge to them.” Heather’s makeup was expertly applied. Did she do it herself or did she have a makeup artist on retainer?

  “I’m not a crime reporter. I’m an investigative reporter.” Shari folded her hands at her hips in fake modesty. “I cover all kinds of news.”

  “That’s right.” Heather gave her a tight smile. “The Telegraph doesn’t have a crime reporter—because Briar Coast has very little crime.”

  Shari nodded toward the newspaper in Heather’s hands. “Except for two murders in the last three months.”

  Heather considered Shari for a quiet moment. “You have a lot of talent. You’re a great writer, and I can tell from your articles that you know the right questions to ask for your readers.”

  “Beware of strangers bearing gifts,” Shari quipped. “You’ll understand that I’m suspicious of your praise after our previous encounters.”

  Faint amusement swept over Heather’s features. “You’re wasted in our quiet little town.”

  “Okay. I’ll play along.” Shari pushed her rolling chair under her desk and leaned against its back.

  “I’m being sincere.” Heather nodded. Her perfectly coiffed mane of chestnut hair bounced, then settled back into place. Amazing. “Shari, clearly you’re the kind of person who needs a lot of action. You need to be where that action is so that you can be part of the mix, have the pulse of the community. I have connections that I’m happy to use to help further your career.”

  Her words stole Shari’s breath. “Does Diego know you’re trying to lure away his reporters?”

  “Not all of them, just you.” Heather’s expression was inscrutable. “It’s a friendly gesture, one professional woman to another. If we don’t watch out for each other, who will? I don’t see any reason to ask Diego’s permission. Do you?”

  “Nicely played, Mayor. I like the way you turned the tables on me.” Shari flashed a grin. “You and Diego have known each other a long time, haven’t you?”

  Heather lifted a finely arched eyebrow. Was there anything about her that wasn’t perfect? “Diego and I have worked together in the past, but let’s not change the subject.”

  “Yes, let’s.” Shari straightened from her chair. “Is your past with Diego the reason you’re all over us like a cheap suit to stop covering hard news?”

  “I’m prepared to use my connections to help you, if you’re interested.”

  “Nice dodge.” Shari flashed another grin. “Mayor Stanley, I’ve worked in a lot of big cities. I haven’t enjoyed any of them as much as I’ve enjoyed Briar Coast. Thank you for your generous offer to help me pack up and leave town, but I’m happy here in our quiet, little community.”

  Heather stuffed her hands in her pockets. A sigh lifted her slender shoulders under her power coat. “My offer stands, if you change your mind.”

  “I won’t change my mind about leaving Briar Coast, but let me know if you change yours about the Telegraph covering hard news.”

  “I’m confident that I won’t change my position, either. Your coverage of these murders is unnecessary. All it accomplishes is building fear in our community. Our residents don’t need that. This is a safe place.”

  “You sound just like our former editor in chief, Perry Whatatool—”

  “O’Toole.”

  “You’d both rather bury your heads in the sand and pretend that nobody dies in Briar Coast. They either live forever or disappear without explanation.”

  “What’s the point of scaring your readers?” Heather seemed genuinely concerned.

  “I prefer to think of it as informing them.” Shari channeled her inner Sister Lou and held on to her patience. “Suppose one of those informed readers knows something that helps solve the case? Or if even one learns something that helps keep them even safer? Would that really be so bad?”

  Heather tilted her head. Her chestnut locks cascaded over her shoulder. “Suppose several of these informed readers leave Briar Coast because they no longer feel safe here? Wait, I can answer that. I’ll have fewer residents and you’ll have fewer readers.”

  With that parting and pointed salvo, the mayor turned and disappeared.

  * * *

  “Why did that reporter do another article on Autumn’s murder?” Sister Marianna stormed into Sister Lou’s congregational office first thing Tuesday morning.

  Sister Lou paused in the act of responding to an e-mail as Sister Marianna confronted her, brandishing a copy of The Briar Coast Telegraph like a weapon.

  Sister Lou folded her hands together on her desk and smiled into her associate’s frigid gray eyes. She could feel Sister Marianna vibrating on the other side of her desk. “Good morning, Marianna. It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

  And indeed the day was beautiful for mid November. Chubby white clouds floated against a vivid blue sky. The crisp air had been invigorating, carrying the sweet scents of earth and autumn leaves as she’d walked from the motherhouse to her office.


  Sister Marianna lowered her hands to her sides in a series of jerky motions. She appeared rigid in her navy skirt, red blazer, crisp white blouse, and red, blue, and black–patterned silk scarf. Her blue, gold, and white Hermionean cross was pinned to her blazer’s right lapel. “I don’t have time for pleasantries, Louise.”

  “Neither do I.” Sister Lou’s hand directed Sister Marianna’s attention to her full in-box. “I have quite a bit of work to get through before this afternoon.”

  Are we really going to waste time arguing the merits of a newspaper article over which neither of us has control? It would appear so.

  Sister Marianna ignored Sister Lou’s concerns. “The Telegraph article keeps Autumn’s murder—and our connection to it—in the forefront of everyone’s mind.”

  “I disagree.” Sister Lou settled back on her executive chair. “Shari did an admirable job with the article. She described Autumn personally and professionally, allowing readers to celebrate her life. She also detailed her contributions to the community.”

  The reporter must have worked all weekend, doing research and interviewing Autumn’s employees and business associates. The article gave the impression that Autumn didn’t have any friends, though, which supported the image of a workaholic.

  “Our donors are unhappy with our association with yet another murder in this town.” Sister Marianna strode farther into Sister Lou’s office. She sat on the closest visitor’s chair. “And the college’s donors want the college to separate from the congregation.”

  Sister Lou felt a spark of temper. “It’s in Shari’s article that Autumn regularly donated to the congregation’s ministries, including the college. Why would we want to hurt one of our most loyal supporters?”

  “No one cares about that, Louise. This article only fans the debate over the college and congregation separating.”

  Sister Lou gestured toward Sister Marianna’s newspaper. “The article quotes our prioress and the college president. I’m sure that Barb and Val’s public display of unity has set aside any idea of the two institutions separating.”

  “Just because we’re not discussing the separation doesn’t mean it’s not still on the minds of our donors and the donors of the college.” Sister Marianna leaned back against her seat, still fuming. “You have to tell her to stop writing any more articles on this incident.”

  The declaration startled Sister Lou. “That’s not the way it works, Marianna. It’s not our newspaper. We don’t control its content.”

  “Well, you could at least speak with her about it.”

  “I won’t do that, either.”

  Sister Marianna sighed and wisely switched subjects. “When are we going to start interviewing suspects? We’re running out of time.”

  Sister Lou had prepared herself for that question. “Shari and I spoke with Autumn’s cousin, January Potts, on Saturday. She gave us some background on Autumn’s ex-husband and his new wife. She also admitted that she’d provided a false alibi for the morning of Autumn’s murder.”

  Sister Marianna’s eyes widened. “You questioned a suspect on Saturday? I should have been there.”

  “Marianna, you can’t be present when we speak with people about Autumn’s murder. You’re too close to this case.” This reasoning worked on every police drama Sister Lou had ever seen, and she watched quite a few.

  Unfortunately, the television-scripted line was powerless over Sister Marianna. “That’s exactly the reason I should have been there. I have the most at stake in this situation. Do not leave me behind on any future interviews.”

  Sister Lou pictured herself having to monitor Shari’s bluntness and Sister Marianna’s temper during one of those meetings. The image almost rendered her catatonic.

  She held Sister Marianna’s stormy gray gaze and prepared to bluff. “Marianna, you asked me to help you clear your name. I’ll handle this investigation my way or I won’t do it at all.”

  Sister Marianna gaped at her, but Sister Lou’s gaze remained steady.

  “Fine, but I’ll expect a full report on each and every interview you conduct.” Sister Marianna rose from the visitor’s chair. “We’ll review your meeting with Autumn’s cousin after work today.”

  I wish I could say that I’m looking forward to it.

  Chapter 20

  “Next time, give me more on the murder.” Late Tuesday morning, Diego presented his verdict on Shari’s follow-up article on the investigation into Autumn Tassler’s murder. His critique was more generous than Shari had expected, but she knew she wasn’t out of the woods yet.

  “Sister Lou and I spoke with Autumn’s cousin, January Potts.” She sat forward on the gray chair across from her editor in chief. “She admitted that she’d lied when she gave her husband as her alibi for the time of Autumn’s murder.”

  Diego’s narrow-eyed stare was the only indication of his interest. It was his biggest “tell.” His warm lavender shirt enhanced the effect of his coffee brown eyes. The colors her editor in chief included in his wardrobe continued to surprise her. They were an indication of the strong confidence the man had in himself.

  “What was the deputies’ reaction?” Diego’s question caught Shari off guard.

  “We haven’t told them. We want to speak with Sherrod Potts first.”

  Diego arched a thick black eyebrow. “Why?”

  It wasn’t easy to remain still under that penetrating stare. “The deputies had their chance to verify January Potts’s alibi. They’d rather focus on payback against me and Sister Lou. This time, we want to do the legwork on our leads before we share them.”

  “Makes sense.”

  “I know.” Shari allowed her gaze to wander around her boss’s office. He’d taken organization to a whole new level. It was just after ten a.m. Diego already had reviewed today’s editions of their two closest rival newspapers. He’d distributed select articles to the section editors for follow-up. His in-box was empty and his out-box was full. Judging by his productivity—and his loosened gray tie—he must have gotten a very early start on his day.

  “You have to mend fences with the deputies.” It was couched in reasonable tones, but Diego’s statement was still an order, not a request.

  Shari crossed her legs. She tapped her right brown stiletto, which matched her tweed slacks, in an irritated rhythm against the air. “I want to do my best job for you, Diego. I really do. But I don’t think I can work with Deputy Cole or Deputy Tate.” Just thinking of Ted triggered her gag reflex.

  Diego smiled as though she’d amused him. “Could you try?”

  “I did try.” Shari scowled in remembered aggravation. “I spoke with them before Sister Lou and I met with January Potts, but they weren’t willing to share any updates with me.”

  Diego leaned forward on his executive chair, folding his large hands on his table. “You put a lot of hard work into the human interest article on Autumn Tassler. It’s a solid piece and an important story.”

  “Thanks.” Shari waited for the other shoe to drop.

  “But at the end of the day, this is a murder investigation. You can’t cover a murder investigation without on-the-record quotes from murder investigators.”

  Shari felt a spurt of irritation. “You’re right, but they’re the ones holding a totally childish grudge, which is ridiculous. If Sister Lou hadn’t solved the last case, they would’ve charged the wrong person with her friend’s murder. I mean, come on. Sister Lou, Chris, and I ran circles around the deputies last time.”

  “Thinking about it that way isn’t productive. We need to be seen working with the deputies, not against them. It speaks to our credibility.”

  Shari tugged her right earring. The sapphire jewel was cool between her fingers. “What am I supposed to do if they won’t talk to me?”

  “You’re a resourceful reporter. You’ll figure something out.” He gave her an encouraging smile.

  Shari resisted her urge to roll her eyes. “I’m still going to work with Sister Lou on her inve
stigation. Like I told you, she’s already gotten some good information that we’re going to follow up on.”

  Diego inclined his head. The fluorescent overhead light gleamed on the thick waves of his black hair and highlighted the few silver strands buried among them. “Share whatever you find with the deputies. That might convince them to open up to you.”

  “Maybe, maybe not.” Shari stood, smoothing her bright yellow sweater. “Sister Lou keeps the deputies in the loop. Fat lot of good it did her last time, though.”

  “Hopefully, this time will be different.” Diego’s eyes twinkled with humor.

  Shari frowned at him. “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Never.”

  She didn’t believe him. She crossed her arms and leaned against the back of the visitor’s chair. “I had another visit from the mayor first thing this morning. She wanted to discuss the Autumn Tassler article.”

  A curtain settled over Diego’s coffee brown gaze. “I know. She stopped by my office, too.”

  Shari’s gaze swept his meticulously organized desk again. “You managed to get a lot done this morning despite her interruption.”

  “She didn’t stay long.”

  “So, what’s with the two of you?”

  “What do you mean?” He did his sphinx impersonation.

  “Do you two have a history?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  Shari sighed. “Do you know how irritating it is to have a question answered with a question?”

  Diego spread his arms. “I’m looking for clarification.”

  “The minute you sat on that chair, you assigned me to investigate the town council’s activities and the mayor’s agenda. How did you know I would find something?”

  “A hunch.”

  “If I hold you upside down, will a straight answer fall out of your pockets?”

  “There’s no need for violence.” Diego gave her a chastising look.

  This time, Shari bit back her exasperation instead of expressing it. Perhaps Sister Lou’s diplomacy is rubbing off on me. “Does Heather Stanley have a habit of attracting conflicts?”