Unsettled Spirits Read Free Page B

final benediction and bade the congregants Godspeed.
    Fortunately for us, Lucy and I didn't have to pick up the leftover communion stuff. Ladies from the Communion Committee did that. So we both hightailed it to the choir room, removed our choir robes, hung them up, and hurried to Fellowship Hall, where tea and cookies would be served.
    My family never stayed long at fellowship because Aunt Vi always had a delicious meal cooking for us at home. Therefore, I rushed around asking people if they knew what had happened to Mrs. Franbold. Nobody knew. And Sam, darn him, didn't show up at fellowship.
    "We'd best be getting on home," Ma said not ten minutes after I'd appeared in Fellowship Hall. "Do you suppose Sam is still busy with Mrs. Franbold?"
    "Don't know," said Pa.
    "Probably," said Aunt Vi. "That poor woman. How old is she, anyway?"
    "I don't know," I said. "Old. Well, elderly," I amended when I saw my mother's black look aimed at me. She expected her daughter to be polite and courteous all the time, even though her daughter—me—was all grown up and earning a living. I sighed. "Maybe he's in Pastor Smith's office. I'll go look."
    "I'd like Sam to come to dinner," said Aunt Vi. She loved anyone who loved her cooking, and Sam lavished praise upon her every time he dined with us. Not that she didn't deserve his accolades, but I suspected him sometimes of going overboard just so she'd ask him to dinner more often.
    "Right. I'll be back directly." And before anyone could stop me, I hurried out of the fellowship hall and to the pastor's office, which was just up the hall a few feet. I knocked softly on the closed door and wished curtains hadn't been drawn across the window.
    A few seconds elapsed, and then I nearly leaped out of my skin when the door suddenly opened, and a scowling Sam glared down at me. He took up most of the doorway, so I couldn't see past him.
    "What?"
    "Aunt Vi wants to know if you're coming to dinner with us," I said, deciding not to bellow at him for his rudeness. We were, after all, in a church.
    "I don't know yet."
    Well, wasn't he just a load of joy and helpfulness? "But what should I tell Vi."
    His scowl intensified. "Tell her I don't know yet."
    Oh, boy. How friendly. "Sam, what happened to Mrs. Franbold?"
    Before Sam could tell me it was none of my business, I saw a hand descend upon Sam's shoulder, and Pastor Smith said, "Perhaps Mrs. Majesty can help console Miss Powell, Detective."
    So. Miss Powell needed consolation, did she? I wondered why. Rather than ask, I said, "I'll be happy to help." It wasn't even a fib. If I could get into the pastor's office, maybe I could finally learn what had happened to poor old Mrs. Franbold. And why whatever it was had so upset Betsy Powell.
    Sam, who knew me very well, made a perfectly hideous face, which only I could see, and said, "She only wants to nose around."
    "I do not!" Very well, that was just a tiny little stretcher. I also wanted to be helpful.
    "I do wish you'd step aside and let her in, Detective Rotondo. Miss Powell is terribly upset." Pastor Smith sounded rattled.
    After heaving a sigh about the size of Mount Wilson, Sam said, "Very well. Come in. But sit with Miss Powell and don't get in the way."
    "I won't get in the way," I told him in a voice that clearly conveyed my irritation with him. Get in the way, my foot.
    "Right," said Sam, unconvinced.
    Nevertheless, he stepped aside, and I entered the pastor's office. I was surprised to see a couple of uniformed police officers standing at the sofa that held Mrs. Franbold. I shot a quick look at Sam and whispered, "Is she...?"
    "Yes. She is. Now go comfort that other lady."
    Oh, my. Poor Mrs. Franbold! What could have happened to her?
    Betsy Powell sat sobbing on an overstuffed chair not far from the minister's desk. I walked over and knelt beside her. "Miss Powell? Betsy, please tell me what's wrong. Is there anything I can do for you?"
    She lifted her head, and I saw that she, too, failed to look