Peril & Prayer Page 7

  She took a moment to square her shoulders and brace herself. Please let Autumn be all right. Then she threw open the door.

  God answers all prayers. But sometimes, His answer is no.

  Autumn was sprawled on her brown faux leather executive chair behind her desk. Her skin was pale. Her expression was frozen. Her mouth hung open as though she were still gasping for breath. But it was Autumn’s periwinkle blue eyes that traced a cold chill down Sister Lou’s spine. They were wide and sightless, staring past the ceiling as though asking God, “Why?”

  * * *

  Later Monday morning, Sheriff’s Deputy Ted Tate entered the resort’s conference room, where Sister Lou waited with Kelsey and Rita. “Sister Louise LaSalle, two murders in Briar Coast in three months—and you’re on-site for both of them.”

  “It’s an unhappy coincidence, Deputy.” Sister Lou’s gaze moved to Ted’s partner, Sheriff’s Deputy Fran Cole, who stood in silent disapproval beside him. Other deputies were processing the crime scene.

  The law enforcement officers carried their brown felt campaign hats. Fran looked sharp in her uniform of brown winter jacket, tan shirt, black tie, and spruce green gabardine pants. Ted looked like he’d slept in his.

  He folded his arms over his burly chest. “No such thing as coincidences.”

  Kelsey’s gasp of surprise cut across the abrupt silence. She’d reacted as though the statement had been meant for her.

  Ted’s pale gray eyes zeroed in on the hapless administrative assistant before returning his attention to Sister Lou. “So what happened? You weren’t able to solve this one so you thought you’d tap us in?”

  Sister Lou chose not to respond to the taunt. Why encourage Ted or the wrestling references that he obviously didn’t expect her to understand? Instead, she observed the other women seated around the dark wood table on matching scarlet velvet-padded seats. She’d arrived almost an hour ago to give Autumn documents for the congregation’s retreat—and to retrieve Sister Marianna’s scarf. Instead, she’d found herself in the middle of a homicide investigation. Another one. Sister Lou didn’t know Autumn well, but she grieved for her tragic death.

  She sipped the coffee Kelsey had offered her. Its warmth helped to steady her nerves. At least her hands weren’t shaking as much. The scents of cedarwood and fresh pine needles that filled the resort also helped.

  “Are comments like those even necessary?” Rita spoke in a tone laden with disgust.

  “You must not have heard of Sister Lou. She’s a famous crime fighter.” Ted’s hard gray stare bored into Sister Lou. The deputy could hold a grudge. It had been a month since her friend’s murder had been solved. Wasn’t it time for Ted to let go of his resentment over her role in the investigation?

  “Why don’t you show some respect?” Rita’s cool tone could frost a margarita glass. “My business partner’s lying dead in a room down the hall and you’re in here playing games with us.”

  “She’s right, Ted. Give it a rest.” Fran rested a hand on one of her partner’s thick shoulders, before addressing the room. Her touch seemed to pull him back from the edge. “I’m Deputy Fran Cole and this is Deputy Ted Tate. We’re sorry for your loss. We just have a couple of questions for you about your boss and what happened here.”

  “She wasn’t my boss.” Rita took a deep breath as though trying to calm down. “As I said, we were business partners.”

  “You’re Ms. Morris, right?” Fran waited for Rita’s nod of confirmation. “Then we’ll start with you. How long were you and Ms. Tassler partners?”

  “Autumn and I started our resort about three years ago. I had the connections. She had the business degrees. We both had the money.”

  Fran’s eyes were glued to her notepad as she scribbled across the page. “When last did you see her?”

  “We spoke on Thursday.” Rita gave a restless shrug. “It was about five o’clock.”

  Kelsey sent Rita, seated beside her, a quick, curious look before lowering her gaze to her lap. Had she noticed as Sister Lou had that Rita didn’t say she’d seen Autumn, only that they’d spoken? Did that mean she hadn’t gone to the resort on Friday?

  “You didn’t see her at all on Friday?” Sister Lou hadn’t meant to ask the question aloud. Was this another example of Shari rubbing off on her?

  “Sister, we’ll ask the questions.” Fran’s interjection barely covered Ted’s snort of disgust. “Ms. Morris, did you see Ms. Tassler at all on Friday?”

  Rita shook her head. “I don’t usually come into the office on Fridays.”

  “So you haven’t seen her in at least three days.” Fran slid a glance in Sister Lou’s direction as she continued to take notes. “What did you talk about?”

  “Just business.” Rita’s sigh was equal parts frustration and impatience.

  What about the business? Did Rita and Autumn have another disagreement about selling the resort? Sister Lou’s thoughts came to a halt. She wouldn’t ask the question. The deputies had already chastised her for her previous interference. Hopefully, Fran would get Rita to elaborate on her response.

  But she didn’t. The deputy let Rita’s ambiguity stand unquestioned.

  Fran continued questioning Rita. “How did Ms. Tassler seem during your conversation?”

  Rita shrugged a shoulder. “She seemed like her normal self.”

  Tension in the room was rising. Was it coming from Rita or Kelsey—or both?

  Fran directed her next questions to Kelsey. “Who’re you and what’s your role here?”

  Kelsey seemed surprised by the deputies’ attention. “I’m . . . Kelsey Bennett. I’m . . . I was . . . Autumn’s administrative . . . well, her assistant, really. At the desk. Really at the front desk.”

  “For how long?” Fran’s eyebrows knitted. She appeared impatient with the other woman’s hesitations.

  Rita sighed and straightened on her chair. “Why do you care about our jobs? What do these questions have to do with anything, much less finding whoever killed Autumn? Isn’t that what you’re supposed to be trying to do?”

  Ted tore his gaze from Sister Lou long enough to answer Rita’s question. “We need this background information to help with our investigation. Is that all right with you or do you have someplace else to be?”

  Rita growled back, “No, it’s not all right with me, but do I have a choice?”

  Was Rita hoping to return to her office before telling the deputies that she’d wanted to sell the resort? Why would she withhold that information—unless she thought her candor would take her to the top of the deputies’ suspects list?

  Kelsey interrupted the tense exchange. “I worked for Autumn for really like almost a year.” Her voice rose on the last word as though she was asking Fran a question rather than answering one. “Her last admin got another job, but really I’m sure it wasn’t because of Autumn. She’s a really great boss. Or she was . . . really . . . great. She treated everyone with respect.” Again her voice lifted as though she was asking rather than answering.

  There was something Kelsey wasn’t telling them. It was there in her speech, which was even less confident than usual. It was in her unsteady gaze, which followed a continuous flight path from her lap to Sister Lou to the wall and back again, never landing on either of the deputies. Was Autumn’s confrontation with her cousin, January Potts, weighing on the administrative assistant’s mind? It was weighing on Sister Lou’s.

  Fran turned the page on her notepad. “When was the last time you saw her?”

  “Friday?” Kelsey nodded as though emphasizing her certainty. “Autumn worked really long hours. She was always the first to arrive and the last to leave. I really tried to get in when she did or to stay as late as she did, but I really couldn’t do it. Those were really long days.”

  “How did she seem on Friday?” Fran crossed her arms as though admitting defeat to Kelsey’s nervous chatter.

  Kelsey took a moment to consider the question. “She seemed the way she normally seemed: re
ally busy but also really focused. But she really seemed her usual self. I really think she ate, drank, and slept business.” She sounded as though she admired that about Autumn.

  There was that phrase again, her usual self. What did it mean? Was Autumn happy, sad, anxious, relaxed, focused, distracted? Why wasn’t anyone else curious about what her state of mind could tell them about her murder?

  “Thank you, Kelsey. Really.” Fran turned another page in her notepad. Sister Lou wondered whether she was the only one who caught the subtle insult of Kelsey’s speech pattern. “Sister Lou—”

  Ted cut Fran off. “Why are you here?”

  The question came at her like a bullet. Was the deputy still trying to unsettle her? It wouldn’t work. Sister Lou met Ted’s still, stern gaze. “I had a nine a.m. meeting with Autumn. Her resort has contracted with the congregation to host our retreat.”

  “You in charge of the retreat?” Ted continued his rapid-fire delivery.

  Sister Lou would not be intimidated. She sipped her coffee and took her time answering. “Marianna and I are working on it together.”

  “When did you make this appointment?” Ted sounded as though he didn’t believe there had been a scheduled meeting.

  “I called Autumn about it on Friday.” Sister Lou held up one hand, palm out. “And before you ask, she sounded a bit distracted but otherwise she seemed her usual self.” She emphasized those two words, which Rita and Kelsey also had used. The reference was lost on her audience.

  Ted studied Sister Lou for several long minutes. Was he expecting her to crack under his silent intimidation? Sister Lou sipped more coffee and maintained eye contact.

  Finally, Ted inclined his head at Fran. His partner returned the gesture, then directed a question to the room at large. “Did Autumn have conflicts with anyone or do you know whether anyone would want to hurt her?”

  Sister Lou’s attention flew to Rita. Would the victim’s business partner mention Montgomery Crane’s interest in the resort?

  “No, I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt Autumn, much less kill her.” Rita looked horrified.

  Sister Lou swung her gaze to Kelsey. Would the victim’s assistant tell the deputies about January Potts’s vicious verbal attack?

  “Neither can I, really. Autumn was a really wonderful boss.” Kelsey looked distressed.

  Sister Lou blinked her surprise. What had just happened? Were Rita and Kelsey so certain that the encounters Autumn had with her cousin and Montgomery Crane had no bearing on her murder? Then why couldn’t Sister Lou shake the feeling that the other women were hiding something?

  Fran turned to Sister Lou. “What about you, Sister? Can you think of anyone who’d want to hurt Ms. Tassler?”

  Sister Lou exchanged a look with the other two witnesses. There was a reason Rita and Kelsey weren’t speaking up. For now, neither would she. “I’m afraid I didn’t know Autumn well.”

  That admission will come back to bite me.

  Chapter 9

  “There’s been another murder.” Shari rushed into Diego’s office at the Telegraph after lunch Monday. She was shocked and saddened by the news. She also was determined to do an even better job with the coverage of this tragedy than she’d done with the previous one just a month ago.

  Diego had been eating lunch while working at his desk. He put down his sandwich, hit a couple of keys, then turned his executive chair to face Shari. Concern darkened his eyes. “Who’s the victim?”

  Shari’s fingers dug into the top of one of his gray guest chairs. “Autumn Tassler. She owned the Briar Coast Cabin Resort on the northeast side of town.”

  “I’ve heard of it. It opened about three years ago.” His frown deepened. “She was murdered? What happened?”

  “Sister Lou said—”

  “Sister Lou found this murder victim as well?”

  Shari knew how it must seem. “Her nephew, Chris, told me she had a meeting with Tassler this morning. She’s pretty shaken up.” And, from the sound of his voice, so was Chris. He probably was having flashbacks to the last time his aunt had found a dead body. It had been a tragedy for his aunt and scary for Chris.

  Shari had left a message for Sister Lou on her office voice mail, expressing her concern. She also asked Sister Lou to call when she felt up to it. She didn’t know when that would be, but Shari’s primary concern was her friend’s well-being.

  Sister Lou hadn’t told Chris much about what had happened, only that she and Autumn’s business partner had found the body. The administrative assistant had called the deputies. Unfortunately, Deputy Fran Cole and Deputy Ted Tate had been dispatched to the resort. They’d processed the crime scenes—Autumn’s office and her private cabin—and questioned Sister Lou and several of the resort employees, including the partner and administrative assistant.

  “I’d be pretty shaken up, too, if I kept finding dead bodies.” Diego had loosened his emerald green tie over his crisp cream shirt. Otherwise, he looked as pressed and polished as though he’d just walked out of his house. “There have been three murders in Briar Coast in the last eight years and Sister Lou has discovered two of the three bodies.”

  “That’s not fair.” Shari’s defense of Sister Lou was reflexive. “The first murder occurred before Sister Lou’d even moved to Briar Coast, and she solved the second one.”

  “You’re right.”

  Diego’s calm acquiescence to the points she’d made went a long way toward soothing Shari’s ruffled feathers.

  She crossed her arms over her thick violet knit sweater. “I want to cover this story.”

  “Of course. You did a good job covering the last murder.” Diego sat back on his gray cloth chair. Shari wasn’t fooled. His pose seemed casual but his gaze was intent. “Are the same deputies working this case?”

  “Yes, Cole and Tate.”

  Diego winced. “Are they still freezing you out because of the last investigation?”

  “They’re starting to warm up to me.” Shari spoke with more confidence than she felt. “I left a voice mail message for both deputies before I came to your office. Hopefully, one of them will return my call.”

  “I hope so, too. We have to include comments from the sheriff’s office in any article we write about this investigation.”

  Shari stiffened. “Will you pull the story from me if I can’t get quotes from them?”

  He leveled a look at her. “Don’t let it come to that.”

  “I could report that the deputies refused to comment for the article.”

  Diego’s head was shaking before she finished her thought. “We can’t use ‘refused to comment.’ It’s not just about a quote. We need them to provide us with substantive information, progress on the case, anything that will help our community remain vigilant and safe. Maybe one of our readers has information that could solve the murder.”

  Shari shoved her fists into the front pockets of her rose-colored slacks. “Those deputies can hold a grudge.”

  Her article detailing the outcome of the last murder—and Sister Lou’s role in solving the case—had made the front page of The Briar Coast Telegraph at the end of September. There was a direct correlation between the timing of her story and the silent treatment she continued to receive from Fran and Ted.

  At least they were taking her calls now after weeks of pouting, but the conversations were one-sided. Shari did most of the talking while the deputies provided one-word answers and grunts.

  The thought of dealing with the ticked-off deputies caused Shari’s homemade ham-and-cheese sandwich to sit like a rock in her gut. “I can’t make the deputies talk to me.”

  “Yes, you can. If your usual confrontational tactics don’t work, try something unusual—being nice.”

  Shari scowled at her editor’s attempt at humor. “This story’s on the clock. I don’t have that much time.”

  “We’re rebuilding our reputation as a serious and thorough source of local news for our community.” Diego spread his hands. “We can�
��t publish crime stories without input from the crime fighters. It’ll damage our credibility.”

  “I’ll make it work.” Shari strode out of Diego’s office.

  Everything was finally starting to go her way. She couldn’t let Fran’s and Ted’s hurt feelings impede her covering this story. She had to find a way to reconcile with them. It wasn’t just about this story. Her entire career depended on it.

  * * *

  “Autumn’s dead?” Sister Marianna’s thin lips parted in surprise. “How?”

  “That’s terrible.” Sister Barbara’s eyes darkened with concern. “What happened?”

  As soon as she’d returned to work, Sister Lou had asked Sister Marianna to meet with her in Sister Barbara’s office. She’d wanted to deliver the sad news to both women at the same time.

  Sister Lou looked from Sister Marianna beside her to Sister Barbara. The prioress was behind her oak desk, which was a larger version of Sister Lou’s desk. “The deputies believe someone choked Autumn in her office probably late yesterday evening. The cause and time of her death will be confirmed with her autopsy.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear about this.” Sister Barbara adjusted her silver-rimmed glasses. “I’m certain her business partner and employees are badly shaken by her murder.”

  “They’re shocked and upset.” Sister Lou’s hands were still shaking. She was more disturbed by the morning’s events than she’d thought. She clasped her hands together on her lap to stop the tremors from spreading.

  “Who are the deputies assigned to the investigation?” Sister Marianna sounded as though she knew the answer to her question.

  Sister Lou imagined her answer would confirm her project partner’s suspicions. “Deputies Fran Cole and Ted Tate.”

  Sister Barbara frowned. “Aren’t they the same deputies who investigated Maurice Jordan’s murder?”

  “Yes, they are.” Sister Lou didn’t mask her unease.

  Sister Marianna sniffed. “I certainly hope they’ll do a better job with this investigation than they did with the last.”