A Truth for a Truth

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Authors: Emilie Richards
Tags: Fiction, General, Mystery & Detective, Women Sleuths, Mystery, cozy, Religious
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course I’ll have to tell Ed, but he’ll be discreet.”
    “I know.” She patted my hand and left. I stood at the door and watched as she walked to her car, but the entire time, Sally’s story was taking on a life of its own. Why would a wife be shouting another woman’s name in anger after a party for old friends? Especially after a fight with that woman just moments before? A fight that had ended with the other woman fleeing?
    Just how angry had Hildy been at her husband?
    I was afraid it was a question that other people might be asking very soon.
    People in uniform.

5
    Ed finally woke up at one and found me sleeping peacefully on the sofa downstairs. I woke up when he banged his shin on our coffee table and said a few unministerial words. We had scrambled eggs and toast at the kitchen table, and I recapped the entire day, since even the parts when his eyes had seemed open were hazy to him.
    I finished with advice. “And Geoff Adler says you’re never to take two antihistamines at the same time, even if you have to do a memorial service in a lily field.”
    “I had that part figured out. Thanks.” Ed rested his head in his hands. “How will I get through Sunday?”
    “Not to worry.”
    He looked up. “Do I want to know what you’ve done?”
    “Just start planning where to put a dozen potted hydrangeas when Easter services are over. And how we’ll pay for them.”
    He smiled, which is all he ever has to do to make my nerve endings jitterbug.
    I watched the smile fade as the events of the day began to make more sense, and I nodded. “I know. It’s a pretty terrible thing to wonder if a colleague was murdered. I hope the autopsy doesn’t turn up anything more than a heart that got tired of beating.”
    “Who would want to kill Win Dorchester?”
    I told him about Sally’s visit, since he seemed able to comprehend almost anything now. He looked more and more unhappy as I spoke.
    “Do you know much about Marie Grandower?” I finished. “She’s not in town very often, is she?”
    “Almost never. She’s one of our wealthier members, but her pledge to the church is minimal.”
    I’d hoped for more than a financial report, but I sensed there was no more. Apparently Marie had been present and active during Win’s ministry, though. How active and in what ways? I hated to speculate.
    We finished our meal and stacked dishes in the sink. Ed promised he wouldn’t snore, and like a fool, I believed him.
    The next morning I slept in. Ed was up at first light, and promised he would get the girls off to school while I tried to make up sleep after his chain-saw nocturne. The next thing I knew, Hildy’s voice was bellowing up our stairwell.
    “Aggie! Aggie, it’s Hildy.”
    There was no point in pulling a pillow over my head and ignoring her. Hildy would be up the stairs tugging me out of bed before I could get back to sleep. I pictured a brisk round of jumping jacks and a jog around the block as she instructed me on the proper way to fold napkins for church potlucks. I sat up, pulled on a robe, and went to the head of the stairs, peering down through slitted eyes.
    “What . . . time’s it?”
    “It’s late. It’s almost eight. I just thought you’d be awake by now—”
    “Why?”
    She looked puzzled. “In case somebody needs you.”
    I pondered this. Who would need me badly enough to come knocking before breakfast? And even so, was it my duty to be up and dressed, just in case? I wondered if I’d missed that course in seminary.
    Oh, wait! I didn’t go to seminary. Ed went to seminary. I just married him, in spite of it.
    “Be back,” I said, with a vague wave of my hand. “I bet there’s coffee . . . in the kitchen.” I turned and felt my way back down the hall to our room.
    One quick shower plus jeans and a sweatshirt later, I made my way downstairs. Hildy had not only found the coffeemaker and brewed a fresh pot, she’d found the dirty dishes from our late-night breakfast, washed them,

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