A Seamless Murder (18 page)

Sherri’s outburst was like a big ol’ white armadillo in the room. Everyone tiptoed around it as we tried to enjoy our pre-dinner drinks. After a while, we all gave up, piling into our trucks and SUVs and caravanning the five blocks to Randi’s house, the second stop on the progressive dinner route. She lived alone in a small Craftsman, and while the houses on her street varied in age and style and were well kept with manicured yards, only Randi’s showed any personality. Three cement gnomes stood on the porch to greet guests. Instead of a traditional wreath on the front door, she had a galvanized steel watering can filled with fresh flowers.

She had raced ahead of the rest of us in her hybrid. Now she stood at the front door, holding it open, looking like an earth goddess in her gauzy dress and half apron. “Come on in, y’all,” she said. One by one, we filed inside. The interior was an eclectic mix of bright curtains and rugs, bold furniture, mellow yellow walls, and artwork. She had a collection of miniature Buddhas on a console table and a dark blue and
green woven wall hanging that looked a bit like I imagined Aladdin’s magic carpet would.

The theme for the progressive dinner was favorite family foods, and from the looks of Randi’s table, her family came from five different countries. She’d been in charge of appetizers and had bruschetta from Italy, seven-layer dip from Mexico, baba ghanoush from the Mediterranean, Chinese pot stickers, and meatballs simmering in a Crock-Pot. People acted like flies at a picnic, hovering around the dining table, as if filling up their plates somehow absolved them from having to address Sherri’s accusations. But once the plates were laden with appetizers, the chatter couldn’t be held at bay. “Y’all were her closest friends,” Jessie Pearl said to the Red Hat ladies who’d circled round. “Sherri spoke outta turn. I know none of you coulda done anything like that to Delta.”

Bennie squeezed Jessie Pearl’s hand. “Of course not,” she said, but she glanced at each person in turn, a hint of suspicion clear in her eyes. “We’ve known all y’all for so long. A lifetime. So why in heaven’s name would she say something like that?”

My thoughts exactly. Did she know something we didn’t? And if so, that sent a wave of concern through me. If she was right and one of the people at the dinner was the culprit, and she’d just called them out, it had been a challenge. The question was, would the killer react?

Another thought struck. A note in one of the the Lladró figurines had mentioned Rebecca, and Randi had said Rebecca had suddenly moved out of her rental. Coincidence, or was she running from someone? What did Rebecca know?

I racked my brain, trying to make a connection between Rebecca and anyone here. Megan had said they’d met at an
antique show in Granbury and had become fast friends. She lived above Randi’s studio. Neither connection sparked an idea, but I’d keep thinking.

One thing about Sherri’s challenge kept me at ease. She hadn’t made it to Randi’s house yet, and if she was right and one of the people in the room now was the killer, that meant she wasn’t in immediate danger.

But where had she gone to, and was she coming back?

The women dropped their voices, appearing to offer comfort to Megan and Jessie Pearl. Will and I circled around to the opposite side of the table. He filled up a plate with samplings of every appetizer. I was more sparse in my selections, my appetite having been replaced by healthy curiosity. I wanted to know what Sherri was thinking and what she might know, but since I couldn’t pick her brain, eavesdropping on the invited guests was the next best thing.

The men and women had naturally segregated, the women on one side of the table and the men on the opposite side in two groups. The husbands of the Red Hat ladies stuck together. I could tell this was not their first Red Hat rodeo. They threw back their drinks, piled their plates high with food a second time, and spoke in deep baritones with the familiarity of family. Not surprising. Their wives had known each other for too many years to count, which meant the men had, too. Will, Jeremy Lisle, Pastor Kyle, and Todd were the outsiders. They stood off to the side, each of them cradling their plates in one hand, a drink in the other. “So if I leave, they’ll think I killed Delta?” I overheard Jeremy asking, sounding as if he couldn’t quite believe he was mixed up in all of this.

Todd shook his head. “Sherri didn’t mean it. She’s grieving.”

“High drama, that’s what it was,” Jeremy said.

“Every family has secrets,” Pastor Kyle said.

“Did Delta?” Jeremy asked. He acted nonchalant, but I sensed tension in his shoulders.

Pastor Kyle offered counsel to his congregants. Had Delta gone to him, and if so, would she have told him what had put her on edge these last few months?

“Sure,” Pastor Kyle said, but he immediately closed his mouth and took a step back. He seemed to realize that he’d spoken out of turn, revealing something that should have been private.

The room had grown completely silent, all eyes on him. His face clouded, and a panicked look took over. “Look, she couldn’t stand that she’d been lied to. She never said who lied, or what it was about, just that she had proof and wouldn’t tolerate it.” He looked at me, cocked a frenzied eyebrow, and then he threw up his hands. “That’s it. That’s all she said.”

Jessie Pearl, with her pursed, thin lips, hobbled toward the pastor, crutches under her arms. “You sure about that, Pastor? She didn’t say nothin’ else?”

But instead of answering, he tossed his plate on the table and headed toward the door. “Dragging Delta’s name through the mud isn’t going to bring her back. It doesn’t matter anymore what she thought of folks. She’s gone, and nothing’s going to bring her back.”

“No, but it could help us figure out who killed Delta,” I said.

He whirled around to face me. “The truth is, folks lie every day. They lie about what they do, about what they think, about who they are.” He gestured to us all. “I see the worst of people when they come to me, but I also see the best in them. They so often focus on the bad things in their lives. Delta was no different from anyone else. She felt betrayed? Well, who doesn’t? She loved you and only wanted to protect you,” he said, looking straight at Megan. “She loved her family and her friends, even if she didn’t always know how to show it in the best way. Remember this. No family is what it seems from the outside, and everyone has secrets. I reckon Delta knew that better than most.”

Megan surged forward, draping her arm through Pastor Kyle’s. Her eyes glistened with a fresh layer of tears. “Thank you, Pastor. Granny, Daddy, Todd, Auntie Coco, Auntie Sherri, and me, we’re all grateful to you. Whatever my mother told you, it was between you and her.”

He patted Megan’s hand. “She’s watching down on you. She’ll always be your protector. Your own personal guardian angel.”

The tears she’d been holding back let go in a waterfall. She tried to say something more to him, but her words seemed to stick in her throat.

Todd had moved next to Megan, pulling her into a comforting embrace. Gently, he drew back. “It’s going to be okay, Megs.” He led her out of the dining room and away from everyone, bending his head toward hers. Solidarity. It was just what I imagined Will doing for me if I were ever so distraught.

The pastor headed for the door. “I’m leaving, but—”

“We all know you didn’t kill Delta,” Coco said, waving away his worry at Sherri’s earlier accusation.

He laughed it off, but he looked relieved to have had it spoken aloud. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he said to the group as a whole, and then he shut the door behind him.

I debated what to do. I had a question to ask the pastor, but I also wanted to be a fly on the wall during the dinner party. So much could be learned by sitting quietly back and listening.

I leaned over to whisper in Will’s ear, deciding that the chance to speak with the pastor was more important than eavesdropping. If the killer was standing right here in the dining room, he or she wasn’t going to suddenly say something to reveal the truth.

“I’ll keep my ears open,” Will said, reading my mind.

I squeezed his hand in thanks. “I’ll be right back.”

He edged his way into the group, while I dashed quietly outside to intercept the pastor. He was walking down the sidewalk, passing truck after truck. Except for Randi, the Red Hat ladies had come with their husbands, each sitting shotgun in the 4x4s their husbands drove. Even Jeremy Lisle and Will had trucks. Only one SUV was parked on the street, and it stood out like a sore thumb.

Pastor Kyle had a crossover. It was the same red as Anson Mobley’s Jeep, but a different make and model. For a second I’d entertained the idea that the vehicle in the private investigator’s pictures wasn’t Anson Mobley’s at all, but someone else’s altogether. Without a clear view of the license plate, it was possible.

“Pastor?” I called.

He stopped, his arm outstretched. His car beeped, the
locks releasing. When he turned to face me, a chill danced over my skin. His nostrils flared and his jaw was tight. But it all changed in an instant, as if a pale yellow light slipped over him to soften his features, and I wondered if the streetlights and the darkness were playing tricks on me. Still, my nerves were on edge. I slowed down, staying back so I could cut and run if I needed to.

“I wish you’d stay,” I said.

“Cynthia’s heart was in the right place inviting me. She’d hoped to help Delta mend some of her broken fences, and I’m a peacemaker, but this night should be for her family and friends.”

“Maybe,” I said. “But so many of them attend your church. You offered everyone a lot of comfort. Just your presence made a difference tonight.” He didn’t seem to know what to say. “Pastor, are you okay?” I asked.

He stared up at the night sky. There wasn’t anything to see there. The stars were obscured by a thin layer of clouds, but he was lost in it anyway. “It’s always hard to bury someone in the community, especially someone who’s been a fixture for as long as Mrs. Mobley was,” he said finally. “People take it hard when a loved one is taken from them of natural causes, but something like this, well, it’s just all the harder to make sense of it.”

“Delta and I, we were neighbors. I saw her, even from a distance, nearly every day. It’s such a shock that she’s gone.”

“She was rough around the edges, but the thing is, she admitted it when called on it. She bent the rules in her favor, and she didn’t have any qualms about it. Cynthia caught her red-handed, rifling through the employee records at the church, but do you know what she said?”

I shook my head.

“Well, of course, first she gave an excuse. She’d come prepared with it. Said she was filing Megan and Todd’s resumes. That she’d found them on the desk. Of course that was a lie. We don’t ask for resumes, and Cynthia is an excellent office manager. She doesn’t leave things lying around.”

“What do you think she was really doing?”

“I never did figure that out. She said God knew all of our secrets. Every last one of them. She said that nothing was confidential to Him, and we all worked for God, didn’t we?”

He laughed, shaking his head at the memory. “As if that justified breaking the rules. How in the world do you argue with logic like that?”

How indeed? “Pastor,” I said, just wanting to get to the nitty-gritty. “You know the community so well. Who do you think killed her? Who would have wanted to?”

But he just shook his head, looking up at the dark sky again. “I wish I knew, Ms. Cassidy, but I sure don’t.”

“And you don’t know what secret she was talking about?”

“All she ever said to me was that she wouldn’t lay down like a dog and let people cheat and lie and hurt the people she loved.”

“Was it about her family? Her sisters?” I said, thinking again about Sherri and wondering how close they actually were, and if an old rift had resurfaced.

But the pastor quashed that idea. “I don’t know, Harlow. I think Coco and Sherri would have done anything for Delta. And hearing those stories about how she helped her friends, I think she would have done a lot for them, too. But really, do any of us know what goes on inside someone else’s head?”

He considered me carefully. “Why are you so interested, Harlow?”

“Coco asked me to help,” I said. “To try to figure out what happened to Delta.”

“Isn’t the sheriff doing that? Someone
killed
that woman. Murdered her. You should stay out of it.”

“Are you friends with Gavin McClaine?” I asked, a little flippantly. They were singing the same tune.

Pastor Kyle’s brows pulled together, puzzled. “The deputy sheriff? No, why?”

I waved it away. “It’s nothing. He’s my stepbrother and tells me to leave crime solving to the professionals.” In fact, he’d told me more than a few times that I was not on the city of Bliss’s payroll, so I should stick with solving sewing crises.

“Good advice,” Pastor Kyle said. “We all have our expertise. From what I understand, you’re quite the seamstress.”

“Fashion designer,” I clarified, keeping quiet about the luck I’d had solving crimes in Bliss since I’d moved back home. Maybe there was one secret still left in Bliss if he hadn’t heard those stories.

“Of course, fashion designer.” He smiled, but it felt placating rather than sincere, and a warning signal went off in my head again. I needed to be careful, and I suddenly realized that I wasn’t one hundred percent convinced that the pastor wasn’t involved.

“I should go,” I said, taking a step backward.

He took a step forward, closing the gap I’d just created. “I think his point is that you’re
not
in law enforcement. Best leave finding Delta’s murder to the sheriff.”

My heart raced, and I forced a smile. “I will. Thank you, Pastor.”

He slid his hands into his pants pockets. “Will is quite fond of you, you know.”

Was he trying to throw me off guard? “I’m fond of him, too.” I threw up my hand in a quick wave and took a few steps in the opposite direction.

“We’re going to Cynthia’s house next,” I said. “If you change your mind and want to come back.”

“Thank you, but I won’t.” He got into his SUV, turning back to me before he shut his door. “Someone killed Delta, Miss Cassidy, and I reckon that whoever it is wants nothing more than to keep that under wraps. You might find yourself in danger if you’re not careful.”