Requiem Murder Part 11

Chapter 5.

Rex Tremundi.

After the picnic, I saw little of Beth or Roger. Though the quiet days were welcome, my curiosity burned to know what was happening. With Roger's capable leadership of the choir, there was no need for my involvement. Still, I wondered if Roger had managed to break up Judith's clique.

On the afternoon of the first Evensong, Lars came for me. "Are you ready for this?" he asked.

"I was ready twenty years ago, but the Vestry wasn't. So you suppose if I'd been a man they would have agreed?"

"For shame. Are you accusing our Vestry members of chauvinism? This year we have a woman on board."

"A first? Or is it a second?"

He shrugged. "Does it matter? There are seldom any members willing to give up their places. Let's go before all the good parking s.p.a.ces are gone."

We parked a block from the church and strolled up the sidewalk. As always I was struck by the beauty

of the building.

Edward stood at the church door. "Lars, Katherine, this is so exciting. A first in the history of St.

Stephen's. Roger was so masterful with the Vestry. Wouldn't Katherine have been impressed if she'd heard his masterful address?"

Lars nodded. "Absolutely."

The twinkle in his eyes brought a smile to my lips. "I'm sure I would have been. Maybe I should have come. Members of the congregation are welcome to add their views."

"Good grief, Katherine. You would have found a way to antagonize them."

"Not me. My days of pushing for freedom of artistic expression and experimentation in alternate modes of worship are over."

Lars dug his elbow into my ribs. "We'd better find a seat. Looks like a good turn out." He dropped some

bills in the offering plate that stood on a table beside the doors into the sanctuary.

Though I spotted several of my friendly enemies seated in rigid silence in the last few pews, I headed for a center seat. Watching those judgmental faces might be fun, but I knew Roger would accompany the dancers and his music mattered to me more than just desserts.

I'm not sure I enjoyed the troupe of large women who stomped through several biblical stories. My granddaughter was a talented dancer who often ch.o.r.eographed her own dances. She seldom uses awkward body positions these women did.

Following the program Lars and I joined the majority of the attendees in Fellowship Hall for a reception.

I complimented the dancers on their energetic presentation and circulated.

Roger drew me aside. "I need to ask you a favor."

His smile made me want to agree with anything. "And what's that?"

"It's for the Mozart Requiem in November."

"You're brave to tackle it. What are you doing about soloists?" There were several singers who'd appeared at St. Stephen's in the past few years I could recommend.

"I'm working with four members from the choir. Ralph for one. He has an incredible voice."

"I'm not singing. Voice was never one of my strengths. Besides, I'd charge." Rumors had circulated about Roger's plans for the Evensong collections, but he hadn't been here long enough to understand their purpose.

He laughed. "That's not what I want. I'd like you to do something you're good at."

My smile deepened and my resistance melted. Age doesn't bring immunity to seduction. "I can't imagine what."

"I want to fill the sanctuary with sound by having the choir stand in the nave. Since I can't play and direct,

I'd like you to be up front. Isn't the Requiem one of your favorites?" He grinned. "I'm sure you want it to be perfect."

More flattery and more warm feelings. "I'll try, but if it doesn't work --"

"I refuse to consider the possibility. We'll be a super team. Come to the church on Friday and we'll go over our scores."

"Why don't you come to the house for lunch?"

He arched an eyebrow. "The cat."

"I'll send him to play with Carlos." My hand rested on his arm. "He's really a gentle creature. Maybe he

and I can help you over your fear."

"Phobia." He rubbed his hand over a faint tracery of scars on his left arm. "I've lived with this for a long time and I'm not about to change. If I lose my fears, my music might suffer."

"You could be right."

Judith's wild laughter rose over the hum of conversation. Roger tensed. "She drives me crazy by feeding

that stray cat. The others have lost interest, but she persists. Comes every day and brings food."

Lars strode toward me. "Definitely an interesting program." He took my arm. "Ready?"

"Yes." I turned to Roger. "Friday at noon."

"Should I be jealous?" Lars pulled the door open and held it for me. "I believe half the female population

is enamored."

"Only half?"

"That's enough to turn this place upside down. "What's up?"

"He wants a favor. The choir is performing the Mozart Requiem for the November Evensong. He's

asked me to direct." I explained why.

Lars opened the pa.s.senger's door. "For that I'll delay my New Mexico trip. Why don't you come with me this year? You'll need a break after working hard." He caressed my cheek. "I can offer some interesting diversions and spectacular scenery."

For the past five years he has spent six months in New Mexico and six months here, though not in single stretches. Two of his children have settled there and two have remained in the East.

"What would your children think?"

"Whatever they want. Kate, we're both alone and available unless you're hiding something. You're retired. Why not?"

His question startled me. At one time, a year or so after my husband's death, I'd dreamed of life with him. His children, especially his youngest daughter, had made life miserable for us. Since then I've learned to cherish my independence.

"You know it won't work. We're both used to going our own way. I've no desire to spend half my year in the Southwest when my only child lives here."

"We could find a compromise."

I shook my head. "I'm too old for an affair or marriage. Those are diseases of the young."

His laughter boomed. "You're a wonder and probably right. At least one of my children would worry you were after my money."

Which was a considerable fortune. I understood which child. In the past few years I've developed a good rapport with the other three.

*Monday was one of those lovely September days with a bright sky and temperatures in the seventies. I was in the garden gathering the last of the tomatoes. Autumn, my favorite of the seasons, had arrived.

The combination of the dramatic colors of the changing leaves, crisp days and nights is a stimulant for me.

"Mrs. Miller."

I turned and saw Marcie standing on the walk. "h.e.l.lo, child."

"Can I help?"

"That would be lovely. Carry two of the baskets to the porch." I lifted the third.

Robespierre appeared and nearly knocked her over with the force of his greeting. Twenty-three pounds is a lot of cat.

Marcie put the basket down and bent to pet him. His purr became a rumble nearly as loud as a car engine. Finally she stopped scratching his head and followed me into the house. The cat ambled at her heels.