Hark! The Herald Angel Screamed: An Augusta Goodnight Mystery (with Heavenly Recipes) (18 page)

Ed, of course, was not aware of the cane or its purpose, and everyone tried to explain it to him at once until he insisted, rather sharply I thought, that we speak one at a time, and then only when called upon.

After Ed was satisfied with our answers, we were told to wait in the choir room while he and Chief Harris searched the balcony and the sanctuary for any sign of the missing cane. Meanwhile, we were relieved to learn that Opal Crenshaw’s body had been removed.

“This is awful!” Ellis said as we sat sipping a second cup of tea. “It’s hard to believe this is really happening.”

Zee groaned. “Leave it to Opal to take all the joy out of Christmas.”

“I’m sure she didn’t die on purpose, Zee,” Jo Nell said. “But at least she’s gone to a better place.”

I supposed that was true; at least I hoped it was, but to tell the truth, I couldn’t think of a better place than Stone’s Throw, South Carolina. I had been raised in this church and Charlie and I were married here, as were my parents and grandparents before me, and now Opal Henshaw had gone and bashed herself in the very pew where my great-aunt Edith and great-uncle Davis had worshipped for at least forty years.

Finishing my tea, I was startled by the sudden racket of three loud chords on the piano. “Come on, everybody and take your seats,” Cissy directed. “We might as well use this time to go over the music.”

We had just finished the “The Cherry Tree Carol,” our third
selection, when Chief Harris squeaked back to announce they had been unable to find Opal’s cane.

“Could this be it?” Hugh Dan Thompson, our baritone soloist, returned from the men’s room just then waving a wooden walking stick with spiral carving.

“Sure looks like the one,” Cissy said. “Where did you find it?”

“It was propped behind the john in the men’s room.” Hugh Dan passed the stick along to the chief. “I remember Virgil Henshaw using this cane or one like it when he had that knee surgery a few years back,” he said. “This must be the one Opal kept in the balcony.”

Chief Harris turned the cane in his hands. “Then what in tarnation was it doing in the men’s room?”

“Looks to me like somebody didn’t want Opal to find it,” Nettie said.

“Idonia’s been awfully quiet,” Jo Nell said as we hung up our choir robes before leaving. “I wonder if she’s feeling all right.”

“I saw her go into the restroom a little while ago,” I said. “Maybe I’d better go and check on her.”

Only a couple of days ago Idonia had been close to literally sleeping her life away, and for all I knew she might have passed out in there. I hurried down the hallway and pushed open the door of the ladies’ room, dreading what I might find. Our church had recently benefited from improvements to our kitchen and bathroom facilities and as a result just about everything in the ladies’ room was mauve. I found Idonia sitting in the room’s one upholstered chair, a somber figure against a floral pattern of mauve and green, clutching her pocketbook on her lap. She looked as if she’d been told to make her own funeral arrangements and not to take too long about it.

“Idonia, what’s going on? Are you all right?” When I drew
closer I noticed the tearstains on her face. “Do you want me to call Nathan?”

She looked up at me with eyes as bleak as the dark December sky. “I don’t know what to do, Lucy Nan. I just don’t know what to do.”

“About what?” I knelt beside her and took her hand. It was cool and trembled at my touch. “Idonia, I’m afraid this has all been too much for you. You’ll feel better when you get home where you can rest.” I wondered if there was any hot water left in the percolator. “Do you think you might be able to get down some tea?”

She shook her head and threw aside my hand. “There’s nothing wrong with me! It’s not that—I’m fine.”

“Then what?” I stood and rubbed the cramp in my leg. She didn’t seem fine to me.

“It’s … well, it’s Melrose.”

“What about Melrose?” I wet some paper towels and passed them along to her. “Here, maybe you’ll feel better if you wipe your face. I really think you’re trying to do too much too soon, Idonia.”

She accepted the towels and made a couple of token dabs. “He was here. I saw him.”

“Melrose? When?”

“Earlier, when we first got here. I saw him leaving as Nathan and I were walking into the building, and I thought maybe he’d come to watch us rehearse and changed his mind.” Idonia wadded up the paper towels and aimed them at the trash can. She missed. “I called to him, but he didn’t answer. Pretended like he didn’t even see me.”

“Maybe he didn’t,” I said.

“You should’ve seen him, Lucy Nan. He couldn’t get away from us fast enough.” Grim-faced, Idonia looked up at me. “And what in the world was he doing here in the first place?”

ugusta was waiting up when I got home. “I kind of halfway expected you to drop in on rehearsal,” I told her.

She smiled. “I’d rather wait and be surprised.”

“You would’ve been surprised all right if you’d been there tonight,” I said, and told her what had happened to Opal Henshaw.

Augusta’s hand went immediately to her necklace, which caught the light from the fire, and I felt as if I could lose myself in its shimmering twilight depth.

“And how is Idonia?” she asked, setting down a tray with two glasses and a bottle of red wine.

“Close to being a basket case, I’m afraid.” I poured a glass for both of us and took a sip. It tasted of wood smoke and cherries and late summer sun—not at all like the inexpensive wine I usually buy at the supermarket, although the label was the same. “Why did you ask about Idonia?” I said.

“Because this all seems to center around her.” Augusta’s loose garment trailed the floor as she sat on the hassock, glass in hand. “Think about it, Lucy Nan: Idonia’s gentleman friend, Mr. DuBois, is living in Opal Henshaw’s home. The locket he gave
her, which may or may not have belonged to the Tanseys’ daughter, has been stolen and Idonia drugged. Now Opal herself has been killed.” She paused to study the contents of her glass, turning it so that it, too, caught the fire’s light. “But that’s not where the trouble began.” Augusta looked up at me as if she expected an explanation.

“I suppose it began at Willowbrook when that vagrant fell from the balcony,” I said, “but I don’t see how that could possibly have anything to do with Idonia.”

Augusta went to the kitchen and returned with a small plate of gingersnaps. Now she broke one in two, gave part of it to Clementine and ate the other.

“Now, why did you do that, Augusta?” I asked. “You’re always telling me not to feed her and you’ve gone and broken your own rule. Clementine will be begging all night.”

Augusta laughed. “No, she won’t, will you, Clementine? Be a good girl now and lie down.”

The dog did as she was told without so much as a beseeching look.

Augusta took another cookie and passed the plate to me. Clementine put a paw over her eyes and whimpered but she didn’t move. Augusta ignored her.

“I’m afraid your friend, however innocent, has been caught up in a dangerous web of wickedness and deceit,” she said.

“Idonia had nothing to do with whatever’s going on!” I said. “And now Opal Henshaw’s death has everybody scared. I’m worried, Augusta. I’m beginning to think this Melrose DuBois isn’t all he’s cracked up to be. Idonia admitted she saw him leaving the church tonight before Opal fell from the balcony … and frankly, we’re not all that sure Opal’s death was an accident.” I told Augusta where the missing cane was found.

“Still,” she said, “we have to consider the possibility that
Mr. DuBois might have had other reasons for being there. Perhaps he only wanted to hear the choir rehearse.”

“Then why didn’t he stay? And why did he pretend he didn’t see Idonia when she called to him?” I shook my head. “No, I think there’s something fishy going on there, and I’m afraid poor Idonia’s going to be the one who pays for it.”

“You said the police were there tonight. Did she mention this to them?”

“You see … that’s another thing. She admitted that she didn’t, and now she’s all upset for keeping quiet about it,” I said.

Augusta cupped her wineglass in both hands. “There must have been other people about as well,” she said.

“Zee said she saw Preacher Dave cleaning in one of the Sunday school rooms, but that’s not unusual. He often works there at night and had been helping Opal with the decorations earlier. Chief Harris was talking with him when we left.”

“Preacher Dave … his daughter wore an identical locket in that photograph on the Tanseys’ piano …” Augusta sat quietly for a while, wondering, no doubt how Miss Jane Marple or Hercule Poirot would approach the situation. “Do you think the authorities believe Opal Henshaw’s death was deliberate?”

“It looks that way,” I told her. “And so do I.”

“It would help,” she said, “if we knew more about the man who was killed out at Oakcreek.”

“Huh?” Maybe I had missed something.

“Your family home. Isn’t that what you call it?”

I laughed. “I think you mean Willowbrook. And I agree it all seems to stem from what happened there. The police aren’t talking, but I’ll see if I can’t get Weigelia to find out if Kemper knows any more about it.”

“Do you know where the Tanseys lived before they came here?” Augusta asked.

“No, but I can find out,” I said. “The deacons are in charge of buildings and grounds so I’m sure they did some kind of background check before they hired Preacher Dave to fill in for Luther. Claudia’s husband Brian is on the Board of Deacons. I’ll give him a call tomorrow.” I yawned. “Right now I’m going to bed … and you might as well go ahead and give Clementine that other gingersnap you have in your hand. I know you’re going to do it as soon as I leave the room.”

Augusta only smiled.

“Lucy Nan, tell me it isn’t true about Opal falling from the balcony!” Claudia called the next morning before I had a chance to finish my first cup of coffee. “You were at choir rehearsal last night, weren’t you? I heard Ellis was the one who found her.”

“The answer is yes to all of that,” I said. “Are you still at home? I was going to call Brian later to ask if he might have any information on where the Tanseys lived before they came here.”