Рита Браун - Santa Clawed

“I called on the more middle-class people. Brother Morris and Brother George called on the richer ones.”

“I’m not sure what the significance is,” Rick replied honestly.

“Bigger checks, obviously, but I also think that Brother Morris and Brother George identified people with Achilles’ heels.” He paused. “I expect they threatened to expose them.”

Cooper half-smiled. “Lucrative.”

Rick continued questioning. “What kind of Achilles’ heels?”

Brother Luther answered. “Gambling. Affairs. Shady business deals. And some of the affairs were married men with other men.”

“How do you know that?” Rick pressed.

Brother Sheldon, misty-eyed again and looking guilty, confessed, “Brother Christopher told me.”

“Brother Sheldon, you withheld evidence.” Rick sounded stern.

“How could I have revealed that?”

“What did Brother Christopher have to do with it?”

“He owed money,” Brother Sheldon said.

“To whom?”

“Alex Corbett.” Brother Sheldon’s chin wavered again.

“Don’t start blubbering, Brother Sheldon.” Brother Howard pointed a finger at him.

“Oh, shut up.” Brother Sheldon surprised everyone, then turned to Rick. “Alex runs a little betting business: football, horses, any large sporting event. Brother Christopher couldn’t resist the idea of winning money.”

“So?” Rick shrugged.

“He didn’t win.” Brother Sheldon stated what he thought was obvious. “He had to pay it off somehow.”

“How did he do that?” Rick kept his voice even.

“Sex for money.” Brother Sheldon cast down his eyes. “It was wrong, but I wasn’t going to rat on a friend.”

“With women?” Rick had to admire Brother Sheldon’s loyalty, even if somewhat misplaced.

“One man.” “Let me be clear: Christopher Hewitt sold his body to a man?”

“He didn’t like it but the money was good. The man was head over heels.” Brother Sheldon wanted to make sure no one thought Brother Christopher was gay. “Brother Christopher was weak where money was concerned.”

“Who was his partner?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Guess.” Rick pushed harder.

“Bill Keelo or Bryson Deeds.”

Rick’s eyebrows shot up. “Your reasons?”

“Those were the men I saw him with, and they became increasingly helpful to our order.”

Brother Howard butted in. “You think Brother Morris figured it out?”

“Of course,” Brother Sheldon replied. “Blackmail.”

Brother Luther shuddered. “I knew it!”

“Why didn’t you come forward?” Rick forced his anger down.

“Didn’t know for sure.”

Cooper asked, “Was Brother Speed in debt, too?”

Brother Sheldon nodded. “He bet on the ponies.” He sighed deeply. “Money. Money is the root of all evil.”

“So they just wanted to pay off their debts?” Rick asked.

“Yes. They swore they’d stop gambling.” Brother Sheldon had believed them.

“And Brother Speed . . . uh, serviced a man, too.” Rick said more than asked, as he watched Cooper’s pencil fly over her notebook.

“The money is with men, Sheriff. I don’t think women will pay a lot for sex,” Brother Howard interjected.

“So it seems.” Rick was surprised, for he didn’t see this coming. “Speed’s client?”

“Either Bryson or Bill,” Brother Sheldon answered.

“And Bill and Bryson knew about each other.” Rick focused on Sheldon.

“They’d met the brothers together. At the Christmas tree farm or at the hospice. And they had good reasons to be there. They didn’t arouse suspicion.”

Brother Luther allowed himself an acid comment. “Bill Keelo tried to cover himself by being publicly homophobic. Ass.”

Brother Sheldon, scandalized at the language, chided, “That’s enough.”

“Two men are dead and you’re worried that I said ‘ass’?” Brother Luther snorted.

“So the question is, who was blackmailed and who killed?” Rick rubbed his jaw.

“Well, I can tell you Brother Christopher never blackmailed anyone.” Brother Sheldon got misty again. “He tried to reform. He did. But easy money corrupted him. The flesh is weak.”

“Obviously.” Cooper’s comment was fact.

“Blackmail.” Brother Luther said the chilling word again and shook his head.

“I don’t know if the order can recover from this,” Brother Howard mournfully said.

Brother Luther replied, “People will always need help with the dying.”

Driving down the mountain, Rick immediately sent out a call to pick up Brother Morris and his cohorts. Clever though the opera singer might be, hiding that bulk could prove very difficult.

“Think we’ll get him?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know when.” Rick noticed how the water running over the rocks on the mountainside had turned to blue ice. “I hope we can get him to tell us exactly who they blackmailed. And mind you, Coop, this doesn’t solve the murders.”

Rick then called to have Bill Keelo and Alex Corbett picked up for questioning.

“They might be with Racquel,” Cooper suggested.

“We’ll swing by, then.”

33

People continued to come and go at the Deedses’, food being devoured with each successive wave of visitors. Racquel seemed more level, less prone to outbursts, at least so far. People understood that a sudden death unnerves those close to the deceased. Everyone made allowances for her.

Rick instructed the officers he called in to form a barrier on both ends of the street. He also sent some on foot to the back of the house, in case Bill or Alex made a run for it.

He parked the squad car alongside another car immediately in front of the house. Cooper couldn’t get through on the Deedses’ phone or Harry’s cell, but she was right in thinking Bill and Alex were both there.

“Let’s see if we can’t do this calmly.”

Coop, seeing Harry’s truck as well as those of their friends, truly hoped this would be the case.

They knocked on the door, and Jean Keelo opened it. Initially, she wasn’t surprised to see them, assuming they’d come to pay their respects.

This changed when Rick whispered, “Do you think you can get your husband and Alex Corbett to the front door without arousing suspicion?”

Too late, for Biddy Doswell, not one to turn from any heightened emotion, squealed as she caught sight of Rick in the front hall. “Sheriff Shaw, how good of you to come.”

Harry, in the kitchen with Mrs. Murphy, Pewter, and Tucker, heard Biddy bray.

“Bother.” Harry sighed.