Chapter 14

We all stackedup our plates with home cooking and found a table. I noticed the room was mostly divided, Baptists and their ribs on one side and Catholics and their fish on the other side. Their longing stares at our plates was a bit unnerving, but I couldn’t blame them. I loved a good fish fry, but it would never beat a plate of ribs. And these were so tender they were falling off the bone.

By the time I plowed through the ribs, potato salad, coleslaw, corn on the cob, and green beans, I was glad my dress was stretchy fabric but worried that my stomach was not. I wasn’t sure how I was going to fit in peach cobbler but was still going to try. I’d just settled down with my bowl when Father Michael and Pastor Don stumbled to the front of the room and turned on a microphone. Everyone stopped talking when it let out a loud screech, and all you could hear was the sound of forks hitting plates as everyone clasped their hands over their ears. I saw one of Celia’s group run for an electronic board in the corner and finally the screeching stopped.

The two church leaders had never even flinched at the sound and were standing there, arms around each other’s shoulders and grinning as though they were at a Swamp Bar party instead of leading a religious event.

“They’re drunker than Cooter Brown,” Gertie said.

“I thought the Baptists got the ribs but not the drinks,” Blanchet said. “You guys are confusing.”

“Father Michael and Pastor Don were eating together,” Ronald said. “I saw Father Michael go twice to refill their drinks.”

“Oh Lord,” Ida Belle said. “Pastor Don isn’t a drinker. If he’s been chugging whatever Father Michael is serving up, he might not even be back from the abyss to preach on Sunday.”

Ronald pointed to the other side. “That nun was eating with them as well, and she’s face down in her cobbler.”

Carter sighed. “Let’s just hope they get through this, and everyone clears out without problems. Gertie, I want you to put your purse under the table and don’t touch it.”

“You gonna ask her to empty her bra as well?” Ida Belle asked. “Because boobs aren’t shaped like that at the bottom. I’m just sayin’.”

Carter grimaced and then gave us a hard stare. “Pretend it’s elementary school. The three of you should put your hands on the table and not move them for anything except your food.”

I stuffed another bite of cobbler in my mouth. Father Michael and Pastor Don didn’t scare me when they were sober—assuming Father Michael ever was. Based on the way they were swaying, I was pretty sure blowing on them would take them out at the moment.

Pastor Don tapped the microphone, cleared his throat, and started.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today in the presence of God and these witnesses to join?—”

“That’s a wedding ceremony!” someone yelled.

Pastor Don looked confused, but Father Michael gave him a pat on the back. “Let me try,” he said as though it was a carnival game and one of them was going to ‘hit’ on the right sermon.

“Dearly beloved, we have gathered here today to get through this thing called life.”

“That’s a Prince song!” someone yelled.

“I love this town,” Blanchet said.

“It’s Easter!” someone yelled, hoping to give the two religious leaders a cue.

“Oh!” Paster Don’s face cleared. “Jesus died for our sins.”

Father Michael looked stricken. “He died? Then we must light a candle.”

He turned around and fished a white candle out of a box behind him, then pulled a lighter out of his robes.

I shook my head. “Two drunk men with a lit candle in a hundred-year-old building, with only two exits and half the town inside. What could possibly go wrong?”

“Crap.” Carter jumped up and hurried for the back of the room, where he grabbed a fire extinguisher and started trying to convince people to exit.

“You don’t look worried about it,” Blanchet said.

“Because if this place goes up in flames, I’m diving out that window. But this room full of knee replacements does not have that option.”

“I’m glad I’m not wearing heels,” Ronald said. “They don’t do well in a stampede.”

“Neither does silk, and half those hands stampeding are going to have barbecue sauce on them.”

“Lord help!” Ronald said. “I’ll just toss this plate in the wash bin and make my way toward the door.”

And he was off.

The two drunk men had abandoned the microphone and were now standing there with the candle, swaying and singing a Taylor Swift song. I think. It was hard to hear over the general grumbling of people. I couldn’t figure out if they were upset that their religious celebration had gone pop or that good manners required that they stop eating until the debacle was over.

I saw Ronald creep up to the table in the back and deposit his plate and utensils in the wash bin. As he turned around to slink out, the sequins on his hat caught just right in the light, and they shot out a beam that blinded Father Michael and Pastor Don. The two religious leaders cheered, mistaking the beam of light for a sign from God, and Blanchet started laughing so hard I thought the folding chair he was sitting on would collapse from the vibration.

When the beam of light shifted and they could see again, Father Michael launched into the “Hallelujah” chorus, but Pastor Don looked over, trying to figure out where the light had gone.

And locked in on Ronald’s tail.

Pastor Don shot off faster than I thought he’d be able to manage given his obvious intoxication, and I silently willed Ronald to run. But instead, he caught sight of the rapidly approaching preacher and froze.

Wrong move.

Pastor Don let out a squeal of delight and grabbed the rabbit tail.

“It’s so soft!” he called out.

The entire room erupted in laughter, and Ronald finally came to his senses and darted away. Unfortunately, the crowd had moved in closer to see the tail and the exit was blocked. Ronald set off running and dodging people and tables as Pastor Don chased him through the room with an outstretched arm.

Blanchet fell onto the floor and Ida Belle and Gertie collapsed on the table. But I stood, my eyes still locked on Father Michael—the man standing in the middle of what was fast becoming pandemonium—eyes clenched shut, singing at the top of his lungs, and still holding a lit candle.

I inched through the crowd toward the front, but Celia beat me to it. She burst through the last line of people and started chasing Pastor Don.

“Stop trying to touch that man’s butt!” she yelled. “It’s a sacrilege!”

Ronald made a quick ninety-degree turn and ran right in front of Father Michael, with Pastor Don—only an inch from grabbing the tail—right behind, and Celia on Pastor Don’s heels.

And then Celia Gertied.

She tripped over the microphone cord and crashed into the singing priest. Father Michael dropped the candle as he fell, and his robe went up in flames. Carter stepped out with the fire extinguisher, but the thing was probably as old as the building and not a single drop of foam came out.

I sprinted for the fallen priest, yanked off his robe, and tossed it in an ice chest, grateful that he was fully clothed underneath. Celia was back up and flapping around like a chicken, the hem of her dress starting to kindle. I was just about to heave some of the water out of the ice chest when Blanchet stepped up and threw the contents of his flask on her.

The fire extinguished, Celia stopped flapping and glared at Blanchet. “You threw alcohol on me!”

“It’s water,” Blanchet said. “I filled it from the holy water basin on my way in.”

The crowd went silent, and everyone stared. Then Gertie stepped up and asked the question on everyone’s lips.

“Does it burn?”

Celia’s face turned beet red, and she put her hands on her hips and stomped off. The entire building erupted in laughter. Father Michael stood there looking completely confused as to what had happened. Pastor Don, halfway to heart attack level between the alcohol and all the running, was collapsed in a chair, and some of the church ladies were fanning him with napkins.

My phone went off and I saw it was a text from Ronald.

Sorry. There’s a BBQ spot on my tail and I have to get vinegar on it. Catch a ride with someone.

Celia, who must have partially recovered, stomped up to Carter and pointed her finger at him. “Why didn’t you do anything about those men?”

“I did. I had a good quarter of the building emptied before you caused a fire.” He shoved the fire extinguisher at her. “And the date on this is older than me. You’re in violation with that piece of useless crap. So before you start yelling at me about doing my job, I suggest you do yours. I’ll be writing up a citation when I get back to the sheriff’s department.”

Celia’s jaw dropped, and I knew she desperately wanted to let loose a witty defense, but since she lacked both, she couldn’t. Carter glared at her before heading my way. He gave me a brief kiss.

“I’m going to get the rest of these people out of here and then head home. I’ll give you a call in the morning.”

I nodded as he headed off and Blanchet watched him leave, his grin turning to a pensive look.

“He’s not okay, is he?” Blanchet asked.

“Not yet. But I think he will be when this is over.”

Blanchet nodded and gave me a quick side squeeze. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do. You’ve become like family to me.”

I smiled. “Thanks. I feel the same.”

He gave me a nod and left.

Gertie stepped up and sighed. “We’ve got a ton of fish to deal with. The Catholics fled with the rest of the barbecue, of course. I’m going to start packing up to-go containers for the fish. What I can’t get rid of, I’ll take to Godzilla. He’s one of God’s creatures, after all.”

“I have to agree Godzilla’s got more utility than Celia,” Ida Belle said after Gertie headed off. “But I’d never tell her that.”

I nodded. “I know he’s drunk, but I still want to ask Father Michael about his motel stay.”

“He’s always drunk. Tonight is no different…just a tad bit more entertaining.”

We headed over to where the dazed priest was standing, staring around the quickly emptying room as if trying to figure out where he was and for what purpose.

“Father Michael,” I interrupted his thoughts. “I wondered if I could ask you about something that happened quite a ways back.”

He brightened. “From the Old Testament?”

“Not quite that far. About ten years ago.”

“Oh, heavens. Well, we can certainly try. But if it’s personal, you might do better if you don’t go any further than last week.”

Given that he’d clearly been dipping in the communion wine for the past several decades, I was pretty sure going back to ten minutes ago would prove problematic, but I wouldn’t be doing my job if I didn’t follow all the leads.

“Back about ten years ago, you stayed at the Bayou Inn. See, here’s your receipt. Do you remember staying there?”

He frowned as he stared at the image on my phone, his brow scrunched in concentration. Finally, he shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

“But this is your name, credit card, and signature.”

He beamed at me. “If you say so. You’re very smart.”

“You don’t remember staying there? It was the night a young woman was murdered in Magnolia Pass, and the man arrested for it was staying at the motel.”

“Oh, that sounds vaguely familiar. I remember the police cars…sirens are so loud. I think I left, but I’m not sure. Wait… Was I there? Yes, I remember now. Proverbs 23:4.”

I sighed. This was going nowhere. “Thanks, Father Michael.”

“Bless you, my child,” he said. Then he beamed at me and practically skipped away.

“Do you think Nora’s been spiking the communion wine with her own brand?” I asked.

Ida Belle snorted. “Father Michael’s been hitting the Good Friday sauce.”

“Is the Good Friday sauce stronger than regular Friday?”

“I heard he skips wine altogether and goes straight for whiskey on religious holidays.”

“Of course he does. I mean, who would want a sober man delivering the Easter sermon?”

“Have you ever talked to him when he’s sober?”

I thought for a minute, then shook my head. “I don’t think so. Have you?”

“Only the one time after that surgery. Sober as a monk and just as boring. Well, I guess I best help Gertie with that fish so I can go home and take off these shoes. Anything but tennis shoes or boots is uncomfortable after about ten minutes in them.”

“I’ll help,” I said. “I need to catch a ride. Ronald had a barbecue-sauce-rabbit-tail emergency and abandoned me.”

Ida Belle shook her head. “They say you’re known by the company you keep. I worry for both of us.”

We made quick work of boxing up the fish, and Celia’s group waved off our offer to help with the cleanup, stating that their year meant their mess. We’d get a go at it next year, so we headed out. As soon as Ida Belle dropped me off, I went straight upstairs for a long shower. I’d fed Merlin before I left, but I figured he’d be happy to get a treat, so I gave him a piece of the fish. He almost looked pleased.

I grabbed a bottled water and my laptop and headed for my recliner, anxious to check my email, just in case I’d heard from the prison. My pulse quickened when I saw the email from Angola. I clicked on it and let out a whoop Gertie would have approved of when I saw the notification I’d been waiting for. I was cleared to visit Ryan.

And the next available time was the next day.