Read Online A Puzzle in a Pear Tree by Parnell Hall - Free Book Online Page B

he
hasn’t
pulled his surveillance? He just said he did to set a trap?”
    “Now you’re cookin’. If Harper’s right, you won’t have to be the Virgin Mary. By the time we get there our stalker will have made his move, Chief Harper will have him in cuffs, and the place will be a crime scene. Which would be an excellent result. I just hate to have to miss it.”
    “Uh-huh,” Sherry said. “Does Mr. Scotland Yard have anything to do with your feelings?”
    “The man is nice. And I gather he’s single.”
    “The man lives in England,” Sherry pointed out. “Were you thinking of moving?”
    “I hadn’t given it much thought.”
    “I’ll bet. So that’s why you came along. To check out Becky Baldwin.”
    “If Becky happens to be alive and well, that’s hardly my fault.”
    “That’s a nice way to put it.”
    Sherry drove down Main Street to the village green. There were no police cars in sight. Indeed, there were no cars of any kind.
    “It would appear Becky’s still alive,” Sherry said.
    “So it seems. Care to drive by and take a look?”
    “Why?”
    “You’re about to play the part. Surely you should check out the tableau. You might learn something.”
    “I can play the part without Becky Baldwin’s help.” Sherry said it icily.
    “Humor me.”
    They circled the village green. As they drove by the stable, Cora said, “Stop.”
    “We can’t stop here. We’ll block traffic.”
    “What traffic? We’re the only car on the road.”
    Sherry slowed the car to a stop in front of the stable. It was on the narrowest part of the green, facing the Congregational church. The snow was undisturbed, making the stable seem a magical place, suspended in time and space, dropped in the middle of the Bakerhaven green.
    The magic was lost on Cora. She snorted derisively.
    “What’s with you?” Sherry said.
    “Look at Becky. She’s kneeling over, she’s got her hood down, you can’t even see her face.”
    “Forgive me if I fail to share your disappointment.”
    “After your whole catfight about Becky showing you what to do, you can’t even see her face, and if you pose like that, no one’s gonna see your face either.”
    “I don’t recall any catfight. And I have no intention of posing like Becky. I didn’t even want to see this.”
    “Yeah. I did. So where’s the fuzz?”
    “What fuzz?”
    “Exactly. If the cops are watching Becky, where are they? If Joseph’s undercover, I’ll cook you dinner. And no one else in the stable looks old enough.”
    Sherry circled the village green again, pulled into the town hall parking lot.
    “The church is closer,” Cora said. “How come they don’t change there?”
    “They used to, until they got flak from the PTA.”
    “Over what?”
    “Associating the Nativity with organized religion.”
    “You’ve got to be kidding.”
    “Not at all. The PC Nativity has no religious significance, offends no one, and is famous for miles around.”
    “I’m way too old,” Cora declared.
    They went up the steps and in the front door. The town hall was empty.
    “Where’s the other actors?” Cora asked, looking around.
    “Weren’t you paying attention during rehearsal? The replacements are staggered. So as not to have the whole tableau exit at once. Virgin Marys are on the hour. Josephs are a quarter after. Either the kings or shepherds come next.”
    “That’s confusing.”
    “Not if you’re a Virgin.”
    Sherry went into the ladies’ room. A blue-and-white costume hung on a hanger on the side of one of the stalls. On the floor was a large shopping bag. Sherry sat on a folding chair, took off her blue jeans and sweater, put them in the bag. Underneath she wore a bodysuit of thermal underwear.
    “That looks nice and toasty,” Cora observed.
    “Easy for you to say. From what I hear, the actors all freeze no matter what they wear.”
    Sherry slipped into the Virgin Mary robes. She sat back down and pulled on her boots.
    “The Virgin Mary in army