Read Online The Litter of the Law by Rita Mae Brown - Free Book Online

there had been a Church of England here, that’s where they would have worshipped.”
    “Reminds me. You have your building-and-grounds notes for the vestry meeting?”
    “Yeah. Why?”
    “Because if there’s ever an outlay of expenses, that’s where it is,” Susan said as she, too, eyed the lovely white Mount Tabor Church.
    There was a bit of traffic on the narrow two-lane highway. People were driving home from work. In the morning and the evening, going could be slow.
    “I never noticed that,” Susan said, her voice rising.
    “What? Mount Tabor is Mount Tabor. Really pretty.”
    “No. There’s a Halloween scene on the grounds nearest the road.”
    Twisting to look back, sure enough, Harry saw pumpkins, tied-up cornstalks, baskets of harvest, and a jolly-looking witch on a broomstick over a sickle moon. Actually, the broomstick used the midpoint of the moon for stability.
    “So?” Harry shrugged.
    “Harry, pagan. Halloween is a pagan festival.”
    “It might have started that way,” Harry said, “but then, Christmas is a co-opted pagan festival. So this became All Hallows’ Eve and the early church fathers could sleep soundly at night.”
    Susan, who knew her history, maintained, “Pagan. When have you ever seen a church with a Halloween display?”
    Harry shrugged. “I give Mount Tabor credit. It’s fun.”
    “Yeah, I guess it is.”
    “Here we are,” said Harry as Susan pulled the Audi into the Lutheran church’s parking lot. “No Halloween display at St. Luke’s. Leaves are raked. Grounds are sleek. Am I doing a good job or what?”
    “Divine, darling.”
    “Well, it is our church.”

    The meeting took place in a twenty-by-thirty-foot room with a high ceiling. Built of native stone in the eighteenth century, St. Luke’s emitted a feeling of peace, of thoughtfulness. And being Lutheran, it excelled in good works.
    The Very Reverend Herbert C. Jones, a Vietnam veteran, deeply believed anyone could talk about Christ. One had to comfort one’s fellow man. And he did, personally. His congregants did, too. St. Luke’s provided tutoring for children in need. Also, their small soup kitchen had recently grown with the depression.
    The Reverend Jones used innovative techniques to draw in his flock. Every October 4th, on St. Francis’s Day, people brought their animals to the church for a blessing. This year’s service had proved especially unusual in that a young woman brought a jar of worms. She had started a worm farm and wanted the reverend’s blessing. The clergyman dutifully picked up the jar and blessed those worms as though they had been devoted dogs. We are all God’s creatures.
    When reprimanded by a parishioner for keeping a saint’s day—“leave that to the Catholics”—Herb took no offense. He merely replied that the saints were as good a model for Lutherans as they were for Catholics. And who could be a better example for all than St. Francis of Assisi?
    The St. Luke’s vestry board, six people, usually met the second Wednesday of each month.
    Elocution, Cazenovia, and Lucy Fur, the Lutheran cats, invariably joined the proceedings.
    These meetings generally ran smoothly until the group had to consider expenditures. Last year, the old church truck breathed its last. The unplanned expense of a new four-wheel-drive truck hadsent the church treasurer, Neil Jordan, into a tailspin. Now in his second year on the board, Neil wanted to impress his fellow parishioners as a fiscal conservative. He was always seeking new ways to save money. But also, he was beginning to discover if it wasn’t one thing, it was another, and the bills piled up.
    Neil read the treasurer’s report. He looked straight at Harry over his tortoiseshell glasses, expensive ones from Ben Silver in Charleston. “You’re the one I worry about.”
    BoomBoom Craycroft, another childhood friend of Harry’s as well as Susan’s, laughed a little, as did the reverend.
    “Neil, all the church’s equipment is in good