Page 16 of Pepper, the Biker & the Vanishing Body

The church sat at the edge of the oldest section of the cemetery where the mausoleums and aged headstones were located. The church wasn’t the original wood building that had been built with the inception of the town. The weather and age deteriorated it over the years and a lovely stone church replaced it, steeple and all. It went through several updates until a final modernized addition was added that did not distract from its age and beauty.

Reverend Herbert’s office was in the oldest part of the church, and I pulled into the small parking area there.

Some people believed that Millie, the reverend’s secretary, was there as long as the church, but that wasn’t possible. Besides, the woman looked younger than her seventy years.

“He’s waiting for you, Pepper,” Millie said, greeting us with a pleasant smile when Ian and I entered the office. “How is your mom? I intend to vote for her for mayor.”

“She is doing well, and she will be delighted to get your vote, Millie,” I said, people telling me the same nonstop, which had me believing my mom just might win the mayoral election. I cast a quick glance at Ian. “I don’t know if you have ever met?—”

“Your boyfriend, Ian Macgregor,” Millie said, extending her hand, “the handsome book cover model everyone is talking about. I have several books with you on the cover.”

Ian shook her hand, holding it a bit before letting go. I noticed he did that with women who would come up to him and request an autograph or just tell him how much they love his book covers. It was as if he was letting them know he appreciated the recognition. I also saw that no matter what age, it caused every woman to blush, something you don’t see often.

The door to the reverend’s office opened and a short, slim man with silver-colored hair and a gentle smile stepped out.

“Pepper, what mystery brings you to the church?” he asked with a chuckle.

I smiled. “A local one, Reverend.”

“Come in then and we will see if we can solve it,” Reverend Herbert offered, stepping aside for Ian and me to enter.

Ian introduced himself after the reverend closed the door.

“It is good to finally meet you, Ian. I was wondering when you might come and visit your uncle’s grave.”

“We did the other day, though an unfortunate incident delayed us some,” Ian said.

“A break-in to the Willow Mausoleum,” the reverend said, nodding. “I heard about it and thought it might have something to do with your visit today.”

I didn’t waste time in asking, “Who holds the deed to the Willow Mausoleum?”

“The church,” the reverend answered. “All records for the Willow Mausoleum remain with the church. They cannot even be accessed through the cemetery files. It was something Ignatius Willow had written into legal documents when he turned the mausoleum and land over to the church. All reverends who have served the parish have been made aware of it when assigned here.”

“One would think Ignatius Willow wanted a secret kept,” Ian said.

I loved that Ian often said what I intended to say or ask. We did think alike.

“It has been speculated,” the reverend said, “but rumors have a tendency to grow over the years, so it is difficult to say what reason the man had for keeping his family’s mausoleum records confined to the church.”

“Is it true he permanently sealed his daughter’s tomb never able to be opened again?” I asked.

“It is and you can see marks and chips on the marble where people tried to pry it open,” the reverend said.

“Then it is possible that there is something valuable buried with Verbena?” I asked.

“So, rumors say, but the only way of knowing that is to open the tomb and according to the documents signed between Ignatius and the church that can never happen,” the reverend explained.

Again, Ian asked the question I was just about to. “What if a relative of the Willow family agrees to it?”

“I’m afraid it would not matter since the church has been granted the rights to the mausoleum in perpetuity. Of course, if a family member, proven to be a descendant of the Willow family, wanted to gain access to the mausoleum, they would be granted permission. But the church has the final say in anything regarding the mausoleum.” Reverend Herbert leaned across from behind his desk where he sat. “I know what you are thinking, Pepper, but I cannot allow you to go snooping around in the mausoleum. It is a sacred resting place, and I will not have it disturbed. I will, however, grant you access to the documents so you can see for yourself what Ignatius Willow intended. But not today. Millie will arrange everything and call you with a convenient date and time.”

“That is generous of you, Reverend, and I appreciate it,” I said. “One other thing before we go. Has Damian Stone gotten in touch with you about the Willow Mausoleum?”

The reverend nodded. “He has and he claims to be a descendant of the Willow family, but he has no proof of it.”

“Wouldn’t it be difficult to establish a direct line to the Willow family when the three descendants are dead?” Ian asked. “How could a bloodline be matched to them?”

“That’s the problem. Ignatius kept excellent business records but not personal records. No correspondence with family or friends has been found between either he or his wife, Claire. They arrived in this area and established the town. The only thing known about them is that they were Irish immigrants.”

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