Chapter 40
Sunday morning Diane took more time selecting her clothes than she did if she were going to the opening party of a new exhibit. She wanted to set just the right tone with the people she hoped to get information from. She finally settled on a blue-gray tweed pencil skirt with matching fitted jacket and black heels.
“You look fine,” said Frank, coming up behind her as she examined herself in the mirror.
He wore a charcoal gray suit that he often wore to church. He put his arms around her waist and she put her hands on his.
“We look pretty good together. You could marry me,” he said.
Diane felt herself involuntarily stiffen and hated it. He had asked before, always casually, as if he could tell himself he wasn’t serious when she said no. But she knew he was serious. He deserved a better reaction.
“I understand what you’re afraid of,” he said. “That if you commit, I will be taken away somehow.”
“I know it must seem very unreasonable to you.” She acknowledged the fear, though she usually denied it. She hated being superstitious, but every time he asked her to marry him, she remembered how happy she was with Ariel and how her world just about ended when Ariel was killed. How could she endure that again?
“Just think about it,” he said. “Not everything has to end in tragedy.” He kissed the back of her neck.
She turned so that she faced him with his arms still circling her waist.
“I know,” she said. She kissed him, then wiped her lipstick off his lips with her thumb.
“So,” she said. “Do you think I’ll be acceptable to the people of Rendell County?”
“Absolutely,” he said, giving her a hug before they left for church services at the First Baptist Church of Rendell County.
Diane and Frank sat toward the back of the church on a pew with Izzy and his wife, Evie, on one side and Andie and Liam on the other. Judging from their body language, Andie and Liam hadn’t patched things up completely, but they were friends enough to come here together to support Diane.
In the pew in front of them sat Christine, her husband, and her brother Spence Barre. Christine had nodded toward the front of the church and whispered that the Watsons’ two daughters were sitting with their families.
The minister introduced the guests before he began his sermon. The members of the congregation all turned, smiled, and nodded at Diane and her party.
The service went by quickly. The sermon was surprisingly short. Diane stood and sang with Frank and the others whenever the music director led them in a hymn. Frank had a good voice and it attracted attention. Diane gave generously to the collection plate when it came around.
At the altar call at the end of the service they sang “Just As I Am,” a hymn that never failed to make Diane feel guilty. She sighed. Some things from childhood could never be shed.
Diane expected that Christine and her brother had found a few people who would speak with her after the service. She hoped perhaps they could use one of the Sunday-school rooms, or possibly they would speak to her out in the parking lot. But that wasn’t exactly how it played out. After the altar call, the minister invited everyone to the fellowship hall for a covered-dish lunch. Apparently, Christine and her brother had arranged it so Diane would have access to all the members who stayed for lunch.
Everyone had gotten to church before Diane and her party arrived. Probably came for Sunday school, she thought. And most everyone had brought a covered dish containing what looked like some pretty spectacular food.
Standing in the serving line, Diane smiled at the woman next to her and commented on how wonderful the food looked. The woman turned away and began filling her plate. So, not everyone was happy she was here, mused Diane. She watched the woman for a moment. The man just ahead of her was probably her husband. Both looked to be in their sixties and well dressed. She was in a royal blue microfiber front-buttoned dress, with a short string of pearls. Her husband wore a silvery gray suit. Diane thought she remembered him holding one of the collection plates.
Diane and Frank sat at one of the long tables. She noted that Izzy and his wife sat at one table, and Andie and Liam sat at another. Definitely organized by David so they could all speak with different people. Made sense, of course. Diane hadn’t thought to come up with a coordinated plan. She was just going to wing it.
The minister said grace. He mentioned the Barres and the Watsons and especially Roy Jr., who was still in critical condition in the hospital. A lot of tragedy for one church, thought Diane.
Christine and Brian McEarnest and Spence Barre sat down opposite Diane and Frank. Two women came over with their plates of food, and the Barres scooted aside to allow them to sit opposite Diane. One was a woman about Christine’s age. She had thin brown hair and a narrow face. She looked pale, her hazel eyes were puffy, and she was thin. She wore a plain brown dress, no makeup or jewelry. The other woman looked a couple years older and, though heavier and taller, was so similar in facial structure that Diane thought they had to be sisters. She wore a navy suit and light makeup. Both looked so very sad.
“I’m Lillian Watson Carver,” the older woman said. “This is my sister, Violet Watson. Welcome to our church.” She smiled at Diane, reached over, and shook her hand. “And thank you for looking into this. We are just overwrought. Nothing like this has ever happened in our family, ever.”
“Was your person able to find anything?” asked Violet. She had a stronger voice than her appearance would suggest.
Diane knew Violet meant the new autopsy, but she absolutely didn’t want to discuss that here-over food.
“I’m sure she’ll tell us later,” whispered her sister.
“Of course. What am I thinking? I’m sorry,” said Violet. “I just want this to end. I want the killer caught.”
“That’s what I wanted to speak with you and your sister about,” said Diane. “Do you have any suspicions? Did your parents have any enemies?”
“Oh, yes,” said Violet; her voice became a quaver. “Yes, they had enemies. They had people calling on the phone with threats.”
Diane was surprised. She thought she was going to have to dig for information.
“Do you know who was threatening them?” she asked.
“Not who, by name, but I know where you can find them. Over at that. . I won’t dignify them by calling it a church. That cult. Mom and Dad were getting constant calls from them about Dad wanting to develop the county,” said Violet.
“Did they threaten violence?” asked Diane.
“Veiled threats,” said Lillian, making a stern face.
“The kind that, if they were questioned, they would say they were just warning them what the Lord would do. I don’t know where they got their information about the Lord, but it wasn’t from the Bible.”
“What kind of things would they say to your parents?” asked Diane. She could see in her peripheral vision that the people next to them were interested in the conversation. But of course, they would be. Everyone knew why Diane was here.
“They wouldn’t tell us exactly. Didn’t want to worry us. But the people at the other church were very upset at Dad’s plans.”
“All he was trying to do,” said a woman down the table from them, “was find something that would keep the young people here. There’s no jobs here, except for the sawmill and a few stores. Our kids grow up and move away. We’re an aging county.”
Diane saw several people nod their heads in agreement.
“Joe Watson hired as many as he could at the mill and in his hardware store,” said another man. “But he couldn’t support everybody. He was trying to come up with an idea that would provide all kinds of different jobs for everybody, and it was a good idea.”
“And Roy Barre was trying to help him,” said a young man at another table. “Why, just getting decent cell service would be a big deal here.”
Diane saw most people nod their heads. Only a few looked at their plates and simply ate their food-among them the woman she first encountered. She could see this was a hot topic that probably gave rise to more than one argument. But lead to killing?
