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Authors: Christine DeSmet
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aside.
“Mom, calm down. I couldn’t understand a word you said.”
“I said I came over here to clean the church, and, and, and . . .”
“What church?”
“Saint Mary of the Snows.”
“But I just cleaned that yesterday.”
“I know, but you miss stuff whenever you clean. We have a princess coming. She’s going to wear white gloves and touch everything. Oh, this is horrible. I don’t want to be involved! You have to come over here. Then you can call Jordy.”
“Why, Mom? Because you found dirt?”
“No! I fell over it!”
“Mom, you’re not making any sense. You fell over dirt? The dust bunnies that I left behind can’t be that big.”
“I fell over a body!”
Chapter 5
M y mother wouldn’t stop screaming. Florine hated anything in life being out of order. I’d been “out of order” all my life, according to her standards.
“Mom, get out of the church. Run! I’ll call Sheriff Tollefson.”
Grandpa came in the shop then with a group of fishermen and their sons—maybe six years old—grinning and carrying fishing poles.
All smiles, too, Grandpa said, “We need to find some bobbers for these young fishermen, and fudge. Got any of your Worms-in-Dirt Fudge?”
The little boys yelled their approval about eating worms.
It was one of the flavors in my Fisherman’s Catch line of fudge for men and boys. “Yeah, Gilpa, coming right up.” The dark Belgian fudge was made with wiggly candy worms in the top layer with dirt made from chocolate cookie crumbles.
While my voice sounded strong enough, my hands were shaking. I couldn’t blurt to Grandpa in front of these little boys that my mother had stumbled across a body in a church. I realized, too, that I didn’t even want to tell my grandfather. He was whistling and the happiest I’d seen him in a long time. He liked kids. Last summer he’d had to let go of his beloved but clunky boat he’d been pouring money and hours into for years. Now he hired out to our dock neighbor, Moose Lindstrom, and piloted Moose’s fancynew, big Super Catch I . But Grandpa complained a lot that he didn’t have much to do, seeing as how the boat was new and ran so smoothly.
I hurried through wrapping the fudge for the boys and their fathers.
Then I ducked in the back in my tiny kitchen to call Jordy.
Not surprisingly, he screamed at me, too. “You found a what?”
I had lied and told him I’d been on my way to Mass at Saint Francis and stopped at the church. “I found a body.”
“Whose body?”
Crap, I didn’t know. Mom never said. I hadn’t asked. “I didn’t wait around to look closely.”
“Where is it?”
I’d forgotten to ask that, too. “Just come.”
After we rang off, I called Pauline as I headed out the back door of my shop.
“What time is it?” Her voice sounded muzzy, even sultry.
Jealousy pinged inside me. “Pauline, it’s going on eight o’clock. Get out of bed. I need you. My mother found a body in the church.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
I was getting upset as I walked across the lawn to my cabin. “I need you, Pauline. This is the last favor I’ll ever ask in my entire life.”
“Liar.”
“I know.”
“Okay.”
* * *
Pauline and I arrived at the church in my yellow pickup truck at around eight thirty that Sunday. With few cars on the roads, I had sped the whole way to Namur with Pauline covering her eyes. We’d been in a rollover accident last summer and she was still skittish of my driving.
I pulled to the side of County Road DK in front of the church. The small parking lot next to the church and behind the gravestones was taken up by the sheriff’s squad car, another car with MEDICALEXAMINER on the door, and an ambulance.
The front door of the church was unlocked. Pauline and I hurried inside. The church was chilly and smelled of smoke.
I hugged my Wisconsin Badger hoodie sweatshirt. Pauline wore a new, navy-and-white-striped cotton sweater over a white turtleneck and new skinny blue
“Mom, calm down. I couldn’t understand a word you said.”
“I said I came over here to clean the church, and, and, and . . .”
“What church?”
“Saint Mary of the Snows.”
“But I just cleaned that yesterday.”
“I know, but you miss stuff whenever you clean. We have a princess coming. She’s going to wear white gloves and touch everything. Oh, this is horrible. I don’t want to be involved! You have to come over here. Then you can call Jordy.”
“Why, Mom? Because you found dirt?”
“No! I fell over it!”
“Mom, you’re not making any sense. You fell over dirt? The dust bunnies that I left behind can’t be that big.”
“I fell over a body!”
Chapter 5
M y mother wouldn’t stop screaming. Florine hated anything in life being out of order. I’d been “out of order” all my life, according to her standards.
“Mom, get out of the church. Run! I’ll call Sheriff Tollefson.”
Grandpa came in the shop then with a group of fishermen and their sons—maybe six years old—grinning and carrying fishing poles.
All smiles, too, Grandpa said, “We need to find some bobbers for these young fishermen, and fudge. Got any of your Worms-in-Dirt Fudge?”
The little boys yelled their approval about eating worms.
It was one of the flavors in my Fisherman’s Catch line of fudge for men and boys. “Yeah, Gilpa, coming right up.” The dark Belgian fudge was made with wiggly candy worms in the top layer with dirt made from chocolate cookie crumbles.
While my voice sounded strong enough, my hands were shaking. I couldn’t blurt to Grandpa in front of these little boys that my mother had stumbled across a body in a church. I realized, too, that I didn’t even want to tell my grandfather. He was whistling and the happiest I’d seen him in a long time. He liked kids. Last summer he’d had to let go of his beloved but clunky boat he’d been pouring money and hours into for years. Now he hired out to our dock neighbor, Moose Lindstrom, and piloted Moose’s fancynew, big Super Catch I . But Grandpa complained a lot that he didn’t have much to do, seeing as how the boat was new and ran so smoothly.
I hurried through wrapping the fudge for the boys and their fathers.
Then I ducked in the back in my tiny kitchen to call Jordy.
Not surprisingly, he screamed at me, too. “You found a what?”
I had lied and told him I’d been on my way to Mass at Saint Francis and stopped at the church. “I found a body.”
“Whose body?”
Crap, I didn’t know. Mom never said. I hadn’t asked. “I didn’t wait around to look closely.”
“Where is it?”
I’d forgotten to ask that, too. “Just come.”
After we rang off, I called Pauline as I headed out the back door of my shop.
“What time is it?” Her voice sounded muzzy, even sultry.
Jealousy pinged inside me. “Pauline, it’s going on eight o’clock. Get out of bed. I need you. My mother found a body in the church.”
“I’m not in the mood.”
I was getting upset as I walked across the lawn to my cabin. “I need you, Pauline. This is the last favor I’ll ever ask in my entire life.”
“Liar.”
“I know.”
“Okay.”
* * *
Pauline and I arrived at the church in my yellow pickup truck at around eight thirty that Sunday. With few cars on the roads, I had sped the whole way to Namur with Pauline covering her eyes. We’d been in a rollover accident last summer and she was still skittish of my driving.
I pulled to the side of County Road DK in front of the church. The small parking lot next to the church and behind the gravestones was taken up by the sheriff’s squad car, another car with MEDICALEXAMINER on the door, and an ambulance.
The front door of the church was unlocked. Pauline and I hurried inside. The church was chilly and smelled of smoke.
I hugged my Wisconsin Badger hoodie sweatshirt. Pauline wore a new, navy-and-white-striped cotton sweater over a white turtleneck and new skinny blue
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