Requiem Murder Part 25

"I see what you mean, but would anyone have told us what he was really like?" She made an odd noise.

"You know, he called this afternoon and asked to borrow my car. Wanted to come to dinner. Just like nothing had happened. Just like he'd never discarded me. I think he's amoral. What are we going to do?"

"I'm not sure."

After hanging up, I tuned the radio to my favorite station. Music formed a background for my thoughts. I

made a mental list of options beginning with another talk with Roger.

Chapter 10.

Hostias The next day as I prepared to walk up town for another attempt to convince Roger to avoid the Simpsons, an unexpected visitor arrived. My daughter-in-law knocked and opened the door. "Is this a bad time?" Ruth asked.

"I was just headed to the church."

Robespierre wound around her legs. She bent to pet him. "I should have called but I decided to drop by and invite you to lunch." Since she seldom acts on an impulse, I wondered if there was a problem. Were she and Andrew experiencing fallout from last summer's near disaster? A glance at her serene face dispelled that notion.

"There's no special time for me to be at the church."

"Good. There are so many things I want to tell you. We missed you last Sunday. I need a favor."

"Ask away."

"After lunch. It's payment in advance."

"Sounds interesting." I reached for my handbag. "On the way back you can drop me off at the church."

Robespierre followed us downstairs and to her car.

"What are you brewing now?"

There was no reason to tell her about Roger and the Simpsons. She'd tell Andrew and my son would instantly decide I was in danger. "I've made a decision. Once I finish my stint as Food Cupboard chairwoman, I'm taking a sabatical from volunteer activities."

She held the car door for me. "Why don't you take a real vacation? Go somewhere exotic."

"I've thought about that. Lars wants me to come to New Mexico."

"That would be wonderful for you...About your meeting. Just tell Reverend Potter you have a life."

"He's not the problem. Roger's been hinting about Pa.s.sion Sunday and I've had enough choir exposure

to last the rest of my life."

"Give him our compliments on Sunday's performance. He, the choir and you were great. Andrew rushed us out before the reception. You know what he thinks about them."

"Hives of hornets flying around waiting for a chance to sting. Buzzing about nothing of value." Her

laughter joined mine.

She parked in front of the Witchery, a local restaurant with a scrumptious lunch menu. I fished two quarters from my handbag and fed the meter before Ruth reached the sidewalk.

She shook her head. "This was supposed to be my treat."

"Don't worry. I won't grab the check."

She held the door. I paused and looked around. The decor always made me think of Halloween. A

variety of dolls dressed as witches were displayed on ledges around the room. While we ate soup and

quiche, Ruth told me about the cla.s.ses she was taking toward her Master's in American Literature.

"It's fun. A lot of reading but I've always had my nose in a book, only now, there's a purpose to what I read."

"And what does Andrew think?"

A smile lit her plain face and exposed a hidden beauty. "He's changed so much from last year. Surely you've noticed that. Sometimes he argues interpretations and he helps me study for tests."

I wonder if she knew how deeply he'd been enmeshed in last year's mess. I knew he'd confessed his

infatuation and the possibility of a law suit. Had he told her he'd been intimately involved with my tenant?

Something I'd unwillingly witnessed.

"Sounds like he's back on track."

She nodded. "I think he is. He's been helping Ted get his life straight again."

"That's good."

"Now, tell me what's going on at St. Stephen's and why you have to talk to Roger Brandon, other than

to refuse center stage. I hear a purpose in your voice when you mention his name."

"I need some answers from him to solve a developing situation. There's trouble brewing and he's at the center of the problem."

"Are you putting yourself in danger again? Inviting house breakers in? Taking tea with a killer?"

"I've never been in danger."

"You'll never convince Andrew. He worries about you."

"This is different. I need information from Roger." I rose and reached for my coat.

She caught my hand. "Do you want me to wait at the church and drive you home?"

"No telling how long I'll be."

She paid the check. "I completely forgot to ask my favor. Could Andrea spend the weekend with you?

Andrew and I want to get away."

Why not? Though I'd volunteered to watch Robby, another child wouldn't be a bother. Andrea hadn't

spent a weekend since school started. One of the children could sleep on the couch, the one non-antique piece of furniture I own.

"If she doesn't mind sharing Robespierre and me."

"Why would she have to share?"

"I'm watching Beth Logan's son. She and Pete are also going away for the weekend."

"Congratulations. You've finally matched him with a lovely woman."

"There's nothing definite."

"Wait until I tell Andrew. There are times when I think he envies Pete's freedom."

But Pete is ten years younger and not married. I prayed my son had learned a lesson last year. Envy is all

right. Emulation isn't. We left the restaurant and drove to the church. I waved as Ruth drove away. Then I headed for the side door. Even before I reached the sanctuary, I heard the vibrant tones of the organ. For the December Evensong, Roger was performing a solo concert, a treat I desired, but not if he continued his games. If they didn't stop, I would take steps to see him removed, even if it meant traveling to every church where he'd been Minister of Music. I entered the sanctuary and closed the door carefully. Then I slipped into one of the pews and turned to watch him. He slid from a Bach Prelude into the Widor Toccata. His fingers flew across the keys. Music filled the sanctuary and reverberated from the stone walls. His body moved from side to side and occasionally, he leaned back. My heart thudded against my ribs. He had removed the back of the organ bench and there was nothing to prevent a plummet to the stone floor.

When he finished the dazzling piece, I applauded. There might be deficits in his character but never in his mastery of the music.

He turned and leaned toward me. I gasped.

"Mrs. Miller, don't come up. What time is it?"

"Two thirty."

"I've an appointment at three."

As he entered the stairwell, his voice vanished. Was half an hour enough time for me to learn what I wanted to know and to extract a promise?

"...do for you?"

"A number of things. Have you thought about what I said yesterday?"

He shuttered his eyes. "Actually, I have, and you're probably right since you know these people better

than I do. The problem's partially solved since there's no choir rehearsal this week. Besides, Martin called to say he and Judith were dropping out of choir until they learn why she has these headaches."

"What about Marcie?"

"You know her mother's forbidden her to have lessons with me."

Though his statement should have brought relief, my edginess remained. The underlying anger beneath his words alarmed me.