Рита Браун: Nine Lives To Die

Always looking for ways to be more efficient, Harry put everything to good use. Depending on the weather, she would pile the manure up, let it molder, turn it with a fork attachment on the tractor. Eventually, all this transformed into rich fertilizer, which she then shared with Miranda and Susan. She spread the rest on her pasture.

Looking up at the wall clock, she hurried out of the barn, closed those doors, dog and two cats in tow.

“I don’t know where the time goes.” She lifted Tucker into the old truck.

The cats hopped up, and she fired the engine. She waited just a bit, then churned out her long drive, using the ruts. Harry plucked her sunglasses from the visor.

“I need a pair of those,” Pewter said.

“Fetching, I’m sure. How about cat’s-eye sunglasses with rhinestones?” Tucker suggested.

“Tucker, button your lip.” Mrs. Murphy ordered. “I’d like a peaceful ride. Besides, Pewter wouldn’t look good in rhinestones.”

“You both think you’re so funny.” The gray cat crawled onto Harry’s lap.

Lifting her elbows to make room for her, Harry started to ramble on to her animals. “I was glad to go to the barn this morning, no skeleton. Margaret Donleavey was such a good teacher. Anyone who can make Latin grammar fun has to be good. How awful to see her like that, and what a sad end to her life. I just can’t believe it.”

“Anyone who can make any grammar interesting has to be good,” sniffed Pewter.

“What do you know about grammar?” The dog looked at her.

“I know c comes before d. Cat before dog,” the gray cat announced, oblivious to any possible errors in logic.

“So what?” Tucker really was spoiling for a fight today.

“Cats first.” Pewter tipped up her chin.

The temperature at ten o’clock edged upward to thirty-eight degrees Fahrenheit. The state roads, while plowed, remained slick.

Harry pulled into the lot at St. Cyril’s at ten after the hour, a little late. Cooper’s squad car was already there, as well as some other cars. Given what the deputy had just been through with Harry at the farm, she knew this would be a reward to the ever-curious Harry, but she also wanted Harry’s take on all this later. She trusted her neighbor’s insights. The two murders, along with the checks, kept bringing Cooper back to St. Cyril’s, but she still couldn’t figure out the connection.

Once inside the administrative building, she hurried down the hall, cats and dog after her. Harry stopped at Father O’Connor’s office, quickly pulling off her coat.

Father O’Connor was seated at a small coffee table, along with Cooper and Arden.

“Sorry.” Harry hung her coat on the coatrack.

She hadn’t expected Arden to be there.

Father O’Connor stood. “When I called Deputy Cooper to meet with me today and she asked if you could come, I had no idea how exciting things were yesterday at your farm, Harry.”

“Too exciting.” Harry sat down as Father O’Connor pulled out a chair.

“You all are welcome to sit, too.” He smiled at the animals.

“Thank you,” they replied, but stayed on the floor.

“Arden, it’s nice to see you,” Harry greeted her. “Happy New Year.”

“Friday is bookkeeping day. And it’s a new year. I need to keep busy.” She looked at Father O’Connor and Cooper, both of whom looked back encouragingly.

“I found this.” Arden pointed to an opened envelope.

Cooper picked it up, handed it to Harry. “What do you make of this?”

Harry noticed that there was no return address, just a blank envelope. She pulled it open and saw two checks inside. “Is this what I think it is?”

“It is.” Father O’Connor nodded.

Harry pulled out two consecutively numbered checks that had been missing. Arden’s signature was on the bottom.

“I didn’t write that,” Arden said, pointing to the handwriting. “I can show you.”

“I can’t imagine that you did sign the checks, Arden. It wouldn’t make a lot of sense.” Harry dropped them back in the envelope as the well-dressed woman left the room, opened a drawer in the desk next door, and returned with photocopies, which she placed on the table.

“That’s my signature.”

Cooper bent over, picked up a sheet filled with images of canceled checks. “Close.”

“But not close enough,” Arden said defensively.

Harry took the offered sheet from Cooper, studied it, handed it to Father O’Connor, who handed it back to Arden.

“When I came in this morning, I noticed an envelope pinned to the door of the cubbyhole,” she said. “I took it down, opened it, two checks. I couldn’t believe it. Why would someone set me up?” Her voice quavered.

“They didn’t, exactly,” Harry answered.

“Why not?” Arden was indignant.

“If they’d set you up, they would have cashed them.” Harry folded her hands together.

“Well, whatever you call it, I want to know who and why. Isn’t there enough going on around here?”

“Yes, there is.” Cooper’s voice was consoling. “We should take note that your signature was not on the torn check found downstairs.”

“Has anyone in the parish ever come to you and asked for funds?” Father O’Connor queried.

“No. The only requests I get for funds are from the officers of Silver Linings. The boys don’t ask. We’re in the black. No monies are missing. We can always use more, but the fund-raiser was very successful. The truck raffle made the difference between a good fund-raiser and a great one.” Arden placed the photocopies back in a clear plastic pocket on the inside of the large business checkbook.

“Arden, does anyone have it in for you?” asked Harry. “Even if it’s embarrassing, it might help to know.” She had a nose for the unexplored angle.

“Not everyone likes me, but I wouldn’t say they have it in for me.”

“Who?” Cooper pressed.

“Dar de Jarnette once accused me of trying to seduce Max.” She flipped her hair. “Absurd.”

“When was this?” Cooper continued.

“Maybe six months ago. She said it as a warning. As if I would want him! I was furious. We haven’t talked since, but we’re polite.”

“Why would she think that?” Cooper kept on.

“Oh.” Arden paused. “She once said Lou was always out for a good cause or a good time and I was left alone a lot. I told her she should know.”

“I see.” Cooper kept a neutral expression.

“Anyone else you can think of?” Harry asked.

“Think of what?” Arden was getting testy.

“Arden, no one is accusing you of anything,” said Father O’Connor. “These events are deeply disquieting. We don’t mean to put you on the spot. Your answers may help all of us, including you, to discover who took those checks. Who tried to disrupt you and our trust in you at such a painful time in your life?” The priest’s voice was gentle and encouraging.

Arden stood up. “I didn’t mean to intrude on your meeting.”

“I think this has covered whatever we might have discussed concerning the checks.” Father O’Connor stood, as did Cooper and Harry, taking their cue from the priest.

“Father.” Arden, suppressing emotion, stepped toward him. “Would you bless me?”

“Certainly. In nominus —excuse me—in the Name of the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, may They bless you and keep you, and grant you peace.”

He made the sign of the cross, the index and middle fingers of his right hand together.

“Oh, God.” Harry’s eyes widened.

“What?” Cooper reached over to hold Harry’s arm as her friend appeared stricken.