CHAPTER THREE

“I thought we were taking it easy through the holidays,” frowned Gabe, tossing a rubber ball against the wall of the conference room. Every time it bounced back, Miller tried to grab it.

“Would you put that damn thing away! It’s annoying as fuck,” he growled.

“Too much merry-making yesterday,” smirked his little brother, poking the bear as he tossed the ball against the wall once again.

“Don’t test me, Gabriel. I’m feeling like shit today, and I will beat the hell out of you,” growled the older brother.

“Could you two stop it,” said Gaspar. “I know we said we wouldn’t take any cases, but this one is actually a favor for Miss Ruby’s grandson, Barry.”

“Barry? What’s wrong? What happened?” asked Antoine, filled with concern for the young man. “He really turned his life around. Did he go back to drugs and alcohol? Please tell me he didn’t fall off the wagon.”

“No,” said Ian. “Not at all. He’s doing great. Working full-time for the city in the public works division. He’s clean, he’s sober, and he finished his college degree. He’s a great young man. He volunteers at a local church in his neighborhood and is an usher for them.”

“Then what’s going on?” asked Gabe.

“As we said, he works as an usher and does odd jobs for the Second Street Non-Denominational Church. The Reverend there helped to get Barry into rehab and find his new path. After services yesterday, two police officers showed up to let them know that the church secretary, Imelda Coliya, was found murdered in her home. Her husband and daughter had gone out for a walk before Christmas service. When they returned, Imelda was in the foyer of their home, dead from several knife wounds.”

“Damn,” muttered Nine. “Not the way anyone should start their Christmas Day. Any cameras on the house? Doorbell cameras?”

“That would be far too easy. The other thing is that the dad and daughter were only gone for about forty minutes. She didn’t appear to put up a struggle with anyone, so the assumption is she knew the person at the front door. Cops said the husband and daughter reported that she’d gone to the church earlier to get it ready for services. They suspect someone followed her home.”

“Who are we speaking to?” asked Ghost.

“Barry and Reverend Sizemore,” said Gaspar, giving a nod to Code. A few minutes later, the two men were shown into the room.

“Barry, you look great, man,” smiled Gabe, giving the younger man a hug. He didn’t look anything like Ruby. Tall and slender, he had lean muscles and an angular face that he’d inherited from his father.

“Y’all sure don’t age,” he smiled. “Grandma said you all looked the same and darned if you don’t.”

“How are you, Barry?” asked Gaspar.

“I’m well, Mr. Gaspar. Thanks to the Reverend, Grandma, and, of course, Mama Irene, I’m doing great.”

“We’re so glad to hear that,” he nodded. “Reverend Sizemore, I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Gaspar Robicheaux.”

“Actually, we did meet many years ago,” he smiled. “You all needed some help offering shelter to a large group of children. The church was able to house eleven of them until their families were found.”

“That’s right,” nodded Nine. “Sorry. Nine Dougall. I remember now, Reverend. Sorry about that.”

“Same,” said Gaspar.

“I’ll agree with Barry, though. You all look exactly the same,” he laughed. “I’m going to assume, knowing Mama Irene and her unique personality and tenacity, that you didn’t make a deal with the devil.”

“No, sir,” smiled Miller. “We’re sorry to hear of your secretary. Can you tell us anything about her?”

“I told Barry we should let the police handle this, but he was insistent that you all would have the time to help as well. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable. I just worry that too many cooks in the kitchen and all that might cause more harm than good.”

“They’re the best, Reverend. It just broke my heart seeing Ms. Imelda’s daughter all tore up by her death.” He turned to stare at the men in the room. “It was an awful scene. She was right there at the front door, lying in a pool of her own blood. Police said she was stabbed six times, a few in the hands and feet and then the rest in her torso. The poor daughter actually walked in the door and slipped in her mother’s own blood.”

“Was there a weapon found?” asked Ian.

“No, sir. They said the coroner thought it was just a simple kitchen knife. Nothing fancy.”

“What was she like earlier when she was at the church?” asked Nine. The Reverend stared at them. “I mean, did she appear upset by something? Was she distracted at all?”

“Oh. Oh, no. Imelda was a wonderful woman and had been working as my secretary for almost eight years. She was a retired daycare provider and was wonderful with the children in the church. She and Shirley, the choir director, had been arguing earlier about duties, but nothing serious.”

“What duties?” asked Trak. Barry and the Reverend jumped, then chuckled, shaking their heads at the man.

“My word! You are a quiet one,” smirked the Reverend. “As I said, it was nothing serious. Shirley was just asking Imelda to help put out the choir books, and Imelda was pulling the ‘it’s not my job card.’ I spoke to them and then they were fine after that. I think they were both tired, that’s all.”

“It’s been hard on the staff since they lost Matilda a few weeks ago,” said Barry. The Reverend stared at Barry for a moment, then nodded.

“Who is Matilda?” asked Ghost.

“She was another secretary at the church. I think she’d been with us almost three, maybe four years, maybe longer. She only worked part-time in the office. The rest of the time she worked with some of our children in the after-school daycare program. She was a lovely young woman, and I thought we were all like family.”

“We are Reverend,” said Barry, patting his back. “Matilda just left one day and never came back. She didn’t call, didn’t text, e-mail, write, nothing. She was just gone. It wasn’t like her at all. She was quiet but very dedicated to the church.”

“Isn’t that strange, considering how long she was with you?” asked Nine.

“I suppose so,” said the Reverend. “Honestly, no offense to Barry, but it doesn’t surprise me at all some of the things these young people do. Do you know that on Christmas Day during services, I actually had to tell a mother to ask her son to put away his hand-held game? In the middle of services!”

“Kids are a bit different nowadays, aren’t they?” smirked Miller.

“They are,” he nodded, “and I suppose I am too. It used to be when a man of the cloth or someone prominent in the community came into the home or business, people would stop and pay their respects. They would greet them, give them their attention and respect as it was due to them. These days, the kids just don’t pay attention any longer. They’re getting into more trouble, and honestly, sometimes I feel as though the parents are almost letting them get into trouble. It’s the strangest thing ever to watch the new dynamic.

“Of course, this coming from the man who doesn’t watch much television, who has never seen an episode of the TeleTubbies, and only listens to choir music. The world is changing, and I need to change with it.” Gaspar smiled at the clergyman, nodding back.

“Well, for now, let’s see what else we can do to help this family achieve some peace.”