Requiem Murder Part 31

the situation. Except once Roger had come to St. Stephen's and showed his mastery of the organ,

there'd been no other choice.

I walked to my car. Plans formed in my thoughts. I believed I knew what had happened, and in the morning, I'd prove my theory. Catching Roger's killer wasn't my goal.

Protecting the innocent was.

Marcie. Once the police learned what Roger had done to her, they would accuse her of at the least startling him and at the worst of his murder. She'd been at the church this afternoon at close to the right time. I wish I could remember if I'd heard the organ before our collision, but all I could remember was her terror and shock.

Beth. Her scarf had been found in the choir loft. Pete knew about the way Roger had used her and how he'd abused their friendship. She might be labeled as a woman scorned, especially it they thought she'd

witnessed the scene between Roger and Marcie.

Since the year moved toward the winter solstice, darkness had fallen by the time I started the car. My thoughts were as dark as the night. An answer had to be found before more lives were ruined.

The drive home was a horror for me and probably a nightmare for the drivers in the string of cars behind mine. The misting rain, the moving windshield wipers and the blinding headlights kept me to a crawl and further depressed my spirits.

After I parked the car, I grabbed my umbrella and walked back to Beth's house. I needed to learn why her scarf had been in the choir loft. I refused to suspect her, but I wanted to know where and when she'd worn it last.

When she opened the door, a thrill of fear jolted my spine. Had I suspected the wrong person? She looked gray and drained.

"Are you all right?" We said the same thing at the same time.

"I need to talk to you about something that happened this afternoon."

"Come in. I'm not sure how much sense I'll make. I'm beat."

"What happened?"

"It was one of those days at the hospital. I didn't get home until four thirty."

Relief buckled my knees and I grabbed the door to steady myself. "Where's Robby?"

"At Maria's. He's having dinner there. When I knew I'd have to work late, I called the Simpson's. No one was home. Then I tried for Blanca and she wasn't home either. Maria met Robby at the bus stop."

"Thank heavens. Is that all?"

She headed to the kitchen. "Pete just called. He's tied up with a case. He sounded cold and formal. Is it the case or me?"

"Make some tea. It's not you."

She stared. "You're doing it too. What have I done?"

"Nothing. I'm chilled to the bone."

As she made the tea, she studied me. Finally, she pulled the cup from the microwave and sat across from

me. "Tell me what's going on."

I inhaled the aromatic steam and sighed. "Roger's dead."

"What? When? How?"

"This afternoon. I found the body."

She shook her head. "How awful for you. Where?"

"At the church. In the sanctuary. He fell from the choir loft."

She shuddered. "An accident?"

After weighing how much to tell her, I decided to keep my story brief.

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't think he was pushed. I think someone startled him. You know how deeply

he immersed himself when he practiced. Someone from the police will talk to you. Your blue scarf was found in the choir loft."

She frowned. "My scarf. I don't understand."

"When was the last time you wore it?"

Her forehead furrowed. "Sunday. I think I left it at the Simpson's. At least, I haven't seen it since then and I've torn the house apart. I even asked Martin if he'd seen it."

"And you didn't wear it home?"

"Pete was in a hurry to escape the bad vibes. I didn't

stop to look for it."

"Did you tell Pete it was missing?"

"Why? It's just a scarf and not an expensive one. Does this make me a suspect?"

"Hardly. You've an alibi unless no one at the hospital saw you."

"They saw me all right. We had a code at change of shift. Who do you suspect?"

"It could have been an accident."

"You don't believe that. I can tell by your voice."

"No, I don't, but I have no proof." I lifted the cup. "Something worries me. Marcie had a problem with

him this afternoon. He hurt her. Happened about an hour before I found the body."

"Not Marcie." She shook her head. "What kind of problem? One that could be a cause for murder?"

"The police will think so."

"She wouldn't. She's one of the most stable people I know. She's been dealing with Judith all her life and that takes strength. If Marcie was going to kill someone, I'd vote for her mother."

"I agree." I put the cup in the saucer. "Let me be on my way."

"What are you going to do?"

"Investigate."

"Don't put yourself in danger."

"You sound like Pete." I put on my coat and stopped at the door. "I almost forgot. Will you bring Robby tomorrow evening or Sat.u.r.day morning?"

"Probably Sat.u.r.day morning around eight. Since I'm a murder suspect, the weekend could be called off."

"Once your alibi is confirmed, you won't be."

She stood in the doorway. "Did Roger...did he..." She shook her head. "He did and I hate him for that."

"She'll be all right. My son found a therapist and Martin took her to meet the woman."

I opened my umbrella and instead of going home, headed around the corner and down the block to the

Simpson's. I wanted to check on Marcie and to further my investigation.

I rang the bell and waited. My foot tapped lightly against the porch floor. The rain had changed from mist

to wind-driven droplets and I was glad for the shelter of the porch. When no one answered, I rang again.

Finally, the door opened a crack.

"Mrs. Miller." Marcie widened the opening and threw her arms around me. "Thank you for being there

and for finding the counselor for me. She was wonderful."

"Then you're all right?"

"Sort of. They're going to charge him. I'll have to testify."

"Don't worry."

"It won't be fun, but it has to be done."