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Kathleen hunched her shoulders.
“—and your visit to Daryl’s cabin Wednesday night.” She watched the chief’s approach as if he were a giant squid wield-ing a blazing hatchet.
I was exasperated. “Don’t look like that. You might as well hold out your wrists for handcuffs. Smile, Kathleen.” Her lips stretched into a travesty of a smile.
The chief was perhaps ten feet away from the car.
So much to tell. So little time. Such an unpromising confeder-ate. “Tell him you went to the cabin because Daryl called and asked you to come and help him plan a surprise thank-you party for the church secretary. You don’t know anything about a red nightgown.
You talked about gifts but—”
The chief rapped in the window.
Kathleen rolled it down. “Chief Cobb.” Her voice was high and thin.
I reached over and pinched her smartly on the arm.
She flashed a startled look in my direction.
The chief followed her gaze to stare, bewildered, at nothing.
“I thought I heard—” Kathleen looked flustered.
I’ve always been a good mimic. I was locally famous for perform-ing a dialogue between Lucille and Ethel—I did both parts—that left our friends in stitches. Of course they might have already had one or two of Bobby Mac’s bourbons on the rocks.
“—my cell phone.” I sounded just like Kathleen.
Kathleen looked haunted.
“Oh.” Cobb nodded. “If you have a few minutes, Mrs. Abbott, I’d like to visit with you about Mr. Murdoch.” He stepped back, an obvious invitation for her to get out of her car.
I gave her another pinch.
Kathleen’s hand jerked to the handle. She opened the door, scrambled out to stand beside the car.
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When she made no move to invite him into the rectory, Chief Cobb studied her, his eyes cool and thoughtful. “From information received—”
I was impressed at how official that sounded. It had simply been an anonymous phone call. I wondered if he was being quite fair.
“—we understand you spent time at Mr. Murdoch’s cabin on Pontotoc Road.”
Kathleen was obviously surprised. “That’s not true.” I gave her an approving pat on the shoulder. This time she didn’t flinch. Good girl.
Cobb’s stare was hard, his eyes suspicious. “Do you deny having been there Wednesday night?”
Kathleen looked blank for an instant, not too long but long enough to convey the recall of an unimportant memory. Perhaps Bayroo’s acting talent was inherited.
“Wednesday night? Oh, that.” Her tone was casual. “He asked me to drop by and help him plan a special surprise for the church secretary. Daryl was senior warden, you know.”
“How long did you stay?” He pushed one hand into a pocket, tumbled coins in a muted jingle.
Kathleen looked confident. “Only a few minutes.”
“Why did he ask you to come to his cabin?” Cobb’s gaze was searching, his suspicions not totally allayed.
She turned her hands up. “I don’t know. He didn’t explain. I suppose he had something planned there and it was more convenient for him.”
“Not very convenient for you. All the way to Chickasaw Lake.”
“Chief Cobb.” Her tone was dry. “The rector’s wife exists to make life more convenient for the members of the vestry.” He wasn’t done. “What about the red nightgown?” Kathleen’s eyes widened in classic puzzlement. Ingrid Bergman couldn’t have done it better. “I don’t know anything about a red nightgown.”
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“You and Daryl never talked about a nightgown?” Her laughter almost sounded genuine. “No. In fact, I’ve never talked to him about anything but church matters or OU football or the chances for the Adelaide Bobcats to win another state championship.”
She could not have mentioned safer topics of conversation at any Oklahoma gathering. Football, both college and high school, was sure to be discussed in almost any social setting from a honky-tonk bar to the parish hall.
He inclined his head. “Appreciate your help, Mrs. Abbott.“ He glanced toward the church. “Might as well visit with your husband while I’m here.” But as he turned away, he stopped and stared at the black cat strolling toward Kathleen.
Spoofer came closer, green eyes lifted to gaze at the chief.
Cobb pointed. “Your cat?”
“Yes.” Kathleen reached down, stroked black fur that glistened reddish in the sun.
Cobb squinted. “He ever go in the church?” Kathleen looked surprised. “Oh no. The vestry wouldn’t approve.” Cobb gestured toward the rectory. “I saw him in your house last night.”
Kathleen’s glance at the chief was puzzled. “Yes.” Cobb nodded, gave Kathleen one final unsmiling look, and walked toward the church.
Kathleen stared after him. Spoofer twined at her ankles, but she paid no attention. When the police chief was almost at the church door, Kathleen whirled toward her car.
I caught her by the elbow, hissed in her ear, “You just got home.
Go inside.”
If Chief Cobb had looked back, he might have seen Kathleen walking on a tilt toward the back porch because she was trying to veer to her car and I was tugging mightily toward the house.
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I won.
In the kitchen, she looked wildly about, glared at a spot near the door. “I’ve got to get to that cabin. My fingerprints are all over that gift package. I threw the gown and box and paper in the fireplace and ran out. I don’t know if everything burned.” I poured coffee into my flamingo mug. “I’m over here.” She whirled toward the table. “Can’t you ever do anything but drink coffee?”
It was hard to believe she’d begrudge a cup of coffee. Before I could point out that even a ghost, certainly one as active as I had been so far today, welcomed a brief moment of relaxation, she had clapped her hands to her head.
“I can’t waste time talking to nobody. I’ve got to get to that cabin before—”
I upended the rest of the mug. “Kathleen, please. Don’t you have any confidence in me? I was able to prepare you for the chief’s questions. Now I’m going to the cabin.” I glanced toward the back porch.
I decided that she’d had as much stress as she could manage. I didn’t think it was a propitious moment to tell her about the dust ball with Spoofer’s fur on Daryl’s suit jacket. I’d surely have time to sweep the porch and get rid of the tarp after I dealt with the red nightgown. “Everything will be fine.” I put the mug in the sink, aware that her eyes followed its progress through the air as if it were utterly repellent.
I was ready to depart for the cabin to check on the status of the gift box and gown when I looked through the kitchen window.
Chief Cobb still faced toward the church, but he wasn’t moving.
He stood with his cell phone to his ear. Ah, he must have had a ring before he went inside. A moment later, he turned, thrusting the cell phone into his pocket, and strode toward his car.
He moved like a man with a purpose.
I felt a tingle of excitement. Something had happened.
Kathleen was pacing near the table. “Bailey Ruth, have you left?
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Are you there yet? Oh, dear Heaven, how can I talk to somebody who isn’t—”
”I’m here.” I was ready to leave, but I had a suspicion that Kathleen might be poised to put herself in a big jam. “Promise me you won’t go anywhere near Daryl’s cabin.” Kathleen’s face might not have been an open book, but I had no trouble reading it. Consternation was succeeded by guilt. Obviously, she’d intended to make a foray there as soon as I was safely absent.
I hadn’t raised two redheaded children without discovering all there was to know about guile, deceit, and general foolhardiness.