Page 49 of Deathtoll
“Exemplary military service. No trouble with the law that I could find.”
“Kate keeps hoping he’ll come back.”
“Never seen her give up on someone.”
And that was Murph’s number one hope, for sure.
“Anybody as bad as him at the center?” Bing asked.
“Seen worse,” Murph told him, and for the rest of the drive, they discussed treatments that were offered.
Bing was the one to ring Pastor Garvey’s doorbell.
The man himself answered. “Is everything all right, Captain?”
Bing had put on a smile before the door even opened, and he kept it on to indicate they weren’t delivering bad news—what most people feared when they saw a law enforcement officer at the door. “Just a few questions about Betty Gardner. Sorry to disturb you at home, Bill. Would it be all right if we came in?”
“Of course.” He stepped aside, fifty-something, thin in the neck, thick in the middle.
“Thank you. Is Amanda here?”
Bill ushered them in. “In the kitchen.”
The house hit Murph all at once, a sensory shock.Wow.Tchotchke Central. Or Flea Market Chic, as Kate would call it.Hecalled it claustrophobic.
Every surface was covered, more crocheted things than he would have previously thought existed in all of Broslin, if he’d ever thought to think about the town’s crochet saturation. And it wasn’t just crochet. All manner of crafts covered the shelves, from homemade pottery to hand-dipped candles. Overwhelmed little tables were crammed in every corner.
Bill caught him looking. “We receive a lot of gifts.” He flashed an indulgent smile. “Given with love and kept in love.”
He seemed to mean it.
This kind of clutter on a daily basis would have driven Murph crazy.
The pastor’s wife, five or so years older than her husband, was frosting a cake on the kitchen counter.
Her smile was instant and welcoming, no worry crossing her face. “Hello, Captain. Murph, thank you for all that help with delivering furniture. Linda tells me you keep saving the day.” She set the spatula down and pivoted to the counter, talking over her shoulder. “Please, take a seat. Let me put on some coffee.”
“Why don’t I brew the coffee?” her husband offered. “Captain Bing is here to talk to you about Betty.”
“Oh?” Amanda wiped her hands on her apron and sat, genuine sadness filling her blue eyes. She tucked a few strands of blonde hair behind her ears as she blinked back tears. “Poor Betty. I still can’t believe she’s gone. I’ll think, oh, I need to call her about something. And then I reach for the phone, and remember…”
She sniffed.
“Did you visit her on Monday?” Bing asked.
“Briefly in the morning. I was in the neighborhood and popped in to ask if she needed anything. I do my groceries on Monday on my lunch break. But she said she was set.”
“Around what time did you leave her?”
“A little before eight. She was an early riser, so I knew she’d be up.”
“You sure it wasn’t later?” Murph pushed. Betty’s time of death had been put at around nine thirty.
“Definitely not. I start Mondays with the women’s prayer circle at eight thirty. By nine, I’m at the preschool. I don’t get out of there until noon.”
Murph wanted to push more, but Bing simply asked, “You wouldn’t know if anyone from the congregation was planning on visiting her too that day?”
“We have regular volunteer visits to some of our less able seniors, but Betty was far from that. If anything, she was helping others. I’m sure if someone was out at her place the day she died, they would have mentioned it to me. You know how people are.Oh, I just saw her that morning! She looked fine!” Amanda pressed a hand to her chest. Tears flooded her eyes. “As if people can’t die just because we’ve recently seen them.” She sniffed. “I keep telling Bill, I was just there earlier. If only I’d stayed.”
