Read Online Beneath the Mall of Madness (A Jaspar Windisle Mystery Book 1) by A.D. Folmer - Free Book Online Page A

Have fun burning in Hell for that one.
    “Excellent,” the pastor said. “I’ve just come in to work on my sermon for this week. It’ll be my take on ‘Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.’ I thought it would be a good inspiration for the reenactment.” I looked back to the flyer.
    “Are you really going to reenact the battle of Jericho inside a church?”
    “Oh no! Mr. Whateley, the hotel owner, allows us to use the space behind the hotel for our reenactments. We’re going to go all out.”
    “Sounds exciting,” I said. I vaguely recalled the story of the battle of Jericho. It seemed ambitious for a reenactment. “Do you do this often?” He shook his head.
    “Just once a year. We try to pick a different scene every time. Something big enough that everyone in the church can participate.”
    “If everyone participates, who watches?”
    “Oh, there are other churches in our town,” he said chuckling. “And the Lord only knows what the tourist trap owners worship. There are plenty of nonbelievers in town as well.”
    “So this is a town wide event?”
    “Yes, but only Lutherans can participate directly.” He stared at me. “Are you a Lutheran, Mr. Windisle?”
    “I’ve gone to Lutheran services before,” I told him, “but I move around a lot. I tend to go to whatever church is available.”
    “Then will I see you on Sunday? My sermon won’t be boring, I assure you.” I didn’t see any reason not to. Maybe the building would be less intimidating when it was full of people.
    “You will if I’m still in town.”
    It began raining on my way back to the hotel. So much for the nice weather Cecilia Bishop had predicted.
    ***
    Fiona was less than thrilled to see the psychic cheese wasp.
    “I thought I’d got rid of them all,” she said, glaring at it. I shrugged.
    “There must be a dead one around here somewhere. I was hoping you’d help me find it and lay it to rest.” It buzzed around both of us, then zoomed into the kitchen.
    “It doesn’t seem to recognize me,” Fiona said.
    “I would have been surprised if it had. Shades have no memory of their own lives. They just remember the kind of creature they were.”
    “So, if you made a shade of the dead construction workers they wouldn’t be able to tell you what happened to them?”
    “You heard about that?”
    “Earl is a good friend of mine. He likes to chat.” I’d noticed that. He’d told me everything except what I’d wanted to know when I’d spoken to him.
    “I use different methods to get information out of the dead,” I told her, “but I’ve never created a human shade, so I couldn’t say for sure.”
    “It would be convenient,” she said. “Anyway, I roasted a chicken and made pecan pie, so I hope you’re hungry.”
    As we ate, she asked me what I thought of the town, and I told her what I’d been up to.
    “Pastor MacReady is doing a hellfire and damnation sermon?” she asked. “I’ll believe that when I hear it.”
    “Is it not his style?”
    “God bless him, he’s a good man and he tries, but if you’re in a confrontation with serious evil he is not your man. He’s been the pastor longer than I’ve been alive, and I don’t think he’s raised his voice once the whole time. He probably thinks the Sermon on the Mount is too strongly worded.”
    “But he doesn’t mind that you’re having a mock war.”
    “It’s an interesting part of the Bible,” she said. “He’s serious about biblical education. Plus, we’ve been doing reenactments in the swamp since before there was a town.”
    The food was delicious. I wished I could have eaten more. As it was, I wasn’t looking forward to going back into the attic. That was probably where the cheese wasp had died, though.
    I was right. Its body had been embedded in plaster. I had to dig it out before I could lay it to rest, which was a simple matter of gently pushing it back into its body. Once I had done that Fiona gave a small scream. I turned around to